I am an artist.

Remember when I was young? No? Me neither.

Sometimes my brain is like, "You could be 28 still!!" But my body goes, "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, that's cute." And you know how science and crap say that brains rule over bodies? That's wrong.

So back when I was young I used to be funny and write blog posts that people actually wanted to read. It was a good time. Now things are different. You know what I've been entertaining myself with a lot lately? AI. Text and images.

At first I was like, "AI is evil and I don't want to touch it. Because someday when it takes over the world, I'll have contributed to it's power!" But then I was like, "Meh, it's gonna happen either way."

I discovered that playing with AI is fun. And easy. It makes me laugh all the time. Like when it tries to make baby fingers and they come out as nightmares. Or when I make it write stupid poems about random things.

So I feel like I'm going to be posting more often. But a lot of it could be AI generated. Not the boring, helpful, I'm-trying-to-be-a-professional type of AI generated stuff though. More of the look-what-I-made-it-do-now stuff.

Or.....I dunno......who knows. Maybe I won't.

But for right now, here's a picture and wonderful poem that AI and I created about leftovers:

In the fridge, a graveyard drear, 

Leftovers lurked, inspiring fear. 

Beneath the foil, they'd bided time, 

A culinary grime, a ghastly crime.

Once a feast, a taste sensation, 

Now a detestable and dire situation. 

They'd morphed and mutated, a moldy surprise, 

A symphony of stenches, a feast for the flies.

I ignored the warning, now it's clear, 

Eating those leftovers, I shed a tear. 

What once was savory, now reeks of decay, 

A cautionary tale, for me to convey.

Oh, the regret that churns in my gut, 

For consuming that food, I'm now in a rut. 

I'll toss out the remnants, let them find their rest, 

And vow to never again put my colon to the test!