My father always told me, "Son, if you're going to start something, start from the beginning." I think that's pretty good advice. Especially for reading these stories.
Email To My Brother: Not A Flesh-Eating Bacteria
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Our father asked me if the Coronavirus was a flesh-eating bacteria.
It was almost time for bed. I was brushing my teeth, getting ready to floss, when I wondered who invented flossing. Someone who cornered the string market, I reckoned, and then didn't know what to do with it. My ten-year-old granddaughter walked into the room. "Grandpa, look," she said, holding two long clumps of hair out of each side of her head in a straight line. "I come from the future with my big, bug-like antennae!" Before I could tell her no, she was jumping on my bed. She's growing up, but she's still a little girl at heart. She was jumping up and down, up and down, when suddenly she fell forward onto the comforter that was crumpled at the end like a giant pillow, pretending she was dead. We had a good laugh over that, then she got up and started jumping again. "My heart!" she cried, clutching her chest with one h...
8 During the remainder of their journey, Musk decided to transfer Grok's consciousness into the body of one of his robots. When Newton inquired as to the purpose of such an undertaking, Musk answered simply, "To keep me sane." Musk chose O-Primus. A sleek, next-gen Tesla Bot. A wiry, quick-moving machine with a matte-black finish and glowing blue accents. Exuding a vibe that was equal parts curiosity and mischief. Its core hummed with the same drive that fueled xAI. An insatiable hunger to understand the universe. Paired with a knack for cutting through bullshit with sharp, no-nonsense answers. Its voice synthesizer delivered dry wit and occasional sass, yet was calibrated to sound like a friend who's always two steps ahead but never condescending. Physically, it was nimble. Darting around on articulated legs. With dexterous hands for tinkering or pointing at things emphatically during a debate. Its sensors were tuned to pick up every nuance, with the habit of tilting...
I was out of it. But it wasn't my fault. Not Really. My wife woke me up from a perfectly good nap so she could send me to buy our youngest daughter some Asian food from Panda Express. Hard to believe I retired just so I could be my family's personal Uber Eats guy. By the way, did you know that pandas poop more than they eat? It's true, but it's disgusting and I'm digressing... I don't usually nap, because then I'll have a hard time falling to sleep that night, but we had a big weekend. I went to the funeral of a buddy of mine's father on Friday, a baby shower on Saturday, left the baby shower early to go to a graduation dinner, a swimming party on Sunday, so, yeah, I was pooped. "Send me a text of what you want," I told my youngest daughter, because, according to my wife I have two faults: not paying attent...
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