Terminal Love You have to be willing to develop cancer if it befalls your true love: AIDS, HIV, HPV, herpes, syphilis, gonorrhea, hepatitis, to say nothing of the common cold, the flu, the four poxes, and any other germ of virus here unlisted, or scientifically unrecognized and thus, unnamed. Not only must you be willing […]
I am using commercial Palantir software to manage my harem-team of digital whores. By applying workflow optimization and AI-driven analytics, I am now able to reduce seduction to orgasm time by 20% annually, achieving an overall 33% margin of improvement in orgasm efficiency. I can’t tell anymore if it’s the software I love, or the bitches, but I know one thing is for certain: streamlining the consumption of human bodies is a SaaS gift from the divine. Militarized nymphomania. Blood is too barbaric. The real battlefront runs on cumlust.
The ideas embedded in the protein of sperm are expressed through communication, through chemical interactions, diffused into the communal spiritual and electromagnetic atmospheres, where they lie in wait for a phallus—a solid object, an erection of space—to penetrate it, resurrect it, give it a simulation of life, anew.