“You’re coming on fine Malcolm.”
“Malky, I want to be called Malky”
“Malky?”
“Aye”
“Aye?”
“Aye? Are you just repeating whit Ah’m saying or are you just being a fud in general?”
Continue reading “A Typical Scottish AI Story by Hugh Cron – Warning – Adult Content.”
“I compare ‘Intelligence’ to the dubious garment ‘chaps.’ All intelligence is artificial as all chaps are assless. I see thinking itself as something that creates items like chaps then almost always describes them as ‘assless’ even though that is a redundant observation. No where else in the natural universe does the non-extant difference between chaps and assless chaps exist other than between human ears. And if chaps had asses then they would be sewed on via artificial means–Ergo the concept of all things related to chaps is artificial, and any mind that ponders such must also be fabricated.”
Continue reading “Week 390: The Week That Is and Old L.S. Has a Robot Farm, A.I., A.I., Oh-One-One-Oh!”
Before Ben knew it he was sixty.
He wasn’t sure if that bothered him but it was now forty one years.
He stayed in what he called his ‘But and Ben’. He loved the old bed that pulled down from the wall. Ben reckoned that there was a cure for cancer within it’s mattress but he didn’t care that there might have also been a hundred different types of lurgey living within the confines of decades of dead skin and bodily fluids. It was quite comfortable.
Continue reading “Ben by Hugh Cron – Warning – Adult Content.”
Beelzebub and one of his friends created The Devil’s Brew or as he called it, ‘Ma Beer.’
Folks don’t realise that Auld Lucifer is a bit possessive and likes to take credit.
He’d been bored and decided to make some Homebrew syrup to corrupt. The thought that people would have to take time, brew it, leave it for less time than instructed, add more sugar and yeast to form as much alcohol as possible and then drink the corruption made him well happy.
Continue reading “The Legend Of The Devil’s Brew by Hugh Cron – Warning – Adult Content.”
Interstellar Demands
The ten billion dollar James Webb Space Telescope began its journey on Christmas Day. The Webb is reputedly a hundred times more powerful than the Hubble– a garage sale find, costing a mere billion and change. The giant eye is scheduled to get down to serious peering by “mid year”–which I call June. Considering how it goes with NASA and associates, I think we can safely assume that June will happen no sooner than September–or at a time when I do not start three consecutive sentences with “The.”
Continue reading “Week 366: Interstellar Demands, The Week That Was and the A to Z of Soul Crushing Coworkers”
She smiled as she heard his wail. He’d always been delicate and wasn’t as mature as the other kids.
…But she knew that would change soon.
He ran into the room with his fist clenched out in front of him.
“Now then Jimmy, don’t cry. It’s only a bit of blood.
…And it’s worth it.”
Continue reading “Legs Eleven by Hugh Cron”
“I’m no a bad guy.”
“I know.”
“But this. I need to do this?”
“What can I say?”
“And it’ll be you?”
“Yes.”
Continue reading “Just Dad by Hugh Cron – Adult Content.”
As a kid, Tom was what you would say normal. He’d a happy childhood with loving parents who were supportive of him and he enjoyed his life.
Continue reading “From Afar by Hugh Cron”
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Upon arriving at her new home in Wisconsin, one of the first things the Witch needed to do was select a tree for enchantment. In past incarnations she had enchanted everything from a scrawny scrub pine barely clinging to life on a steppe to a majestic redwood in northern California. Unlike other duties discharged by her vast array of familiars, tree enchantment was a task she had to perform in person. In a way it was like picking a Christmas tree, yet instead of murdering the damn thing and dragging it home, the Witch would endow the chosen tree with eternal life. The irony was not lost on her.
Enchanted trees gave the Witch a connection between Hell and the Earth itself, and they intensified her spells. Since she had to travel to a new land every time she returned from her latest season in Hell, a new tree had to be enchanted upon her arrival. She took heart that none of her former enchanted trees were sad to see her go. To the contrary, nothing conveys malevolent grace or gleeful, malign intent better than a retired enchanted tree. And if a branch happens to break off and kill a peasant now and then, well, accidents happen.
Continue reading “101-Evilmost Elm By Leila Allison”
Macey McGarry was a face licker.
In her early years this was a trait or an obsession that she was never able to indulge in as much as she needed.
Continue reading “Macey by Hugh Cron”
literally stories 