/lit/ - Literature

>>14495103
there’s already a meg thread up you simpleton

please dont spam her

I want to smell her.

>>14495103
Fed up of seeing shit spammed on this shit board. Guennon, Liveblog, Boyle, fucking stop

>>14495290
we have become collectively more cynical about memetic warfare.

>>14495290
The Ellman spammer is bad too. Guenonfag is probably the most pathetic or creepy of them, at least the Megan Boyle retard is obviously joking since he also posts the foot fetish shit.

>>14495439
>ellman spammer
There’s probably one thread every week about Newburyport, wouldn’t call it spamming

>>14495475
The obsessive defensiveness of the OP of those threads is a bit telling, smells like newfag/tourist trying to force something.

>>14495485
the only thing you’re smelling is your own farts, schizoposter

>>14495485
I think he’s just frustrated with how myopic /lit/ can be in the face of the 21st century authors

>>14495103
Meganposting helps up the measurable sincerity around here

>>14495103
Liveblog is a riot to read.

Liveblog excerpt

>>14495567
ok ellmananon

>>14495835
>schizo ramblings

>>14495166
What do you imagine she's like, anon?

>>14496083
I imagine that she doesn't smell good, but I've fallen so madly in love with her that it's like an aphrodisiac. I'd joke to her about her scent and we'd both laugh about it.

"Megan, don't look at my face, just watch for those fists, ok?"
"Ok!"
"We'll start at quarter speed, but then I want us to get to half speed for the rest of the drill, alright?"
"Yeah, that-that sounds great. Cool!"
"Ready?"
"Yes."
"Ok. Don't look at my face, just take in the whole combative form. That's how you'll sense right or left, foot work for a punch or a kick, etcetera."
"Y-yeah, that makes sense."
"Great, now come down and grab that wrist, perfect, now peel it back towards me, good. See how open I am, sweeping takedown, knees, ribs, neck, temples, strike-break or break-strike, whatever you feel in that moment."
"Um, got it, yeah."
"Let's go again?"
"Yeah, let's go."
"Quarter speed still,"
"Got it."
"Grab, peel, good. But see how you're standing?"
"Oh no-"
"Your back is to me basically."
"Yeah, um, shoot, yeah you're right."
"Ok, reset."
"Quarter speed, good. Reset."
"Ok."
"See, you're watching my eyes and not my body."
"No, really I was watching you, just sometimes I let my irises just sorta float."
"Well, whatever you're doing, watch me, with whatever chakra or eyeballs you fancy."
"Thank you, that's really accomodating."
"Well they're paying me a great deal of money to be here."
"That's great to here."
"Yeah, you got sponsorships and all that lined up?"
"Oh, um, wow, yeah, that's such a good idea, yeah. I should totally get sponsors, but, wait, yeah, I can't really compete."
"What?"
"Sorry, I shouldn't talk, I'm - it's a private thing."
"Ok, whatever, lady, I'm just here to train you. You gotta focus on the fight. Your mind is elsewhere and that's why I can surprise you."
"Y-yeah it's alot to take in, that's for sure."
"You ain needa write a novel, Meg, just keep your eyes on his sneaky ass and don't let him surprise you. Make that your blog."
"Darrell is right, if you're focused, the feigns and jukes will just pass through you like energy, and you'll sense what your opponent is committing to."
"Its about that footwork, Megwork."
"Ready?"
"Yeah, ok."
"Quarter speed still."
"Ok."
"Good, peel, mind your stance, ok. Again."
"..."
"Good catch, your legs are all wrong."
"Shoot-"
"Reset."
"Half speed, ok?"
"Yes, great."
"Good, great, excellent, Megan, that back leg is great, you can resist a grapple, knee to groin, take out a knee, and look, see all that exposed meat, that's yours for a moment if you do this right."
"Um, yeah, wow."
"Reset."
"Nice catch, see, you get it. She's teachable Darrell!"
"Yeah, well that mean you gotta pay up and I know how that goes so-"
"Darrell doesn't know how much they're paying us."
"Yeah, well they gotta nice water feature in the lobby so I thought it'd be decent."
"Darrells gonna get himself some sugar offsets."
"Pff, if this gig that good, I'll get an Aerodrone and leave the ring."
"Good, Megan, let's progress a bit, if that's alright with you?"
"Yeah-um, yeah that sounds great. I'm up for whatever."

>>14495835
So it's Faulkner without the elegance or moral grounding?

>>14497076
>moral grounding
Imagine being so pointlessly stuffy about what one reads, why it's a most sordid amusement.

>>14495103
Meggo Fandango
Cat fur entangle
Anklets and bangles
Facial quadrangle
Dreamcatcher dangle
Ginger drain tangle
Endure such mangle
Tight pants rump wrangle
Eye gaze at angles
Necklaces jangle
Spiced with galangal

>>14495290
Yo, it's two thousand twenty
I want y'all to meet Megan Boyle, broil, got sum small feet
It's all Yeet! in this day and age
I'll dunk dat funk, aint no fucks to buck the truck
Sinceremancer, perfect blend of technology and magic
Use my blogging so you all can see the hazards
Plus entertainment where many are brainless
We cultivated a lost sincerityand I brought a buddy

Seeing the first of the pair of resplendently festooned drivers, her feathers and jewels nestled in hypnotically wrapped headwear, and then the over opulent scale of the eight wheeled luxury automobile in which Rupi motioned Megan aboard with a hook of her jade swirling coupe, it’s breadth taking up two whole lanes of the VIP disembarkation port and around which zoomed, purred and roared the scarlet and daffodil and spotlessly gold and platinum plated and the demure ivory and matte onyx trucks and cars of the ordinary travelers, Megan feeling propelled into the extraordinary vehicle as if along a silent kinesis nudging her as a sacred logistical transmission between lush desert airport and the extravagant vehicle, its rearest clamshelling openings but one of three ports available to the passengers and hostesses, once inside which she spied not only the ur-fallopian upholstery but the overlooking mezzanines that could be crept to by fur-lined spirals, foxy and mink spiralings continuing yet upwards to an outer deck that would be wondrous, Megan regretted, if not for the length of this compulsively decided upon flight Rupi had cajoled, coerced, coaxed Megan into booking instead of returning home, telling her they both needed a break from the promotional circuses, the junkets, the release events, the tiresome sabrage and molecular gastronomy and feedback and strategy sessions and early AM and late PM conferences with editors and publishers and stakeholders who only joined just now and have very strong opinions on the piece and would really appreciate being heard and would hope you would receive this feedback with all candor and professionalism, so many cycles and versions of that repeated day conditioning Megan into a machine of those systems and unspecialized to all the other graces of life, requiring, it being actually critical to Megan’s spiritual health that her reflexively dwelt ruminations were rudely by Rupi’s pierced and rended by a saucy cackled “Get your pale ass on here, puta!”

>>14495103
Megan's miasmas
Pagan plume plasmas
Fugu-duced asthmas
Playful to dogmas
So cute, mind magmas

>>14497133
Yep. It's reading to feel the sensation of life. Like the book version of someone like pewdiepie. This is not a criticism, only an observation. One does not read Meg to grow knowledge but to be immersed. Again, pure sensation.

I'm pretty sure there are only two of us posting Megan Boyle. Me and the schizo guy.

“Alpha Charlie this is Oscar Yankee. Um, I’m switching off subvocals on uh two three.”
“Oscar Yankee, Alpha Charlie receives you on the hyperband, all spectra green. Next touchpoint is a click before Lima Quebec.”
“Copy that, Alpha Charlie.”
“Hey, professor, say something if you can hear me.”
…
“Professor Wallace!”
“Oscar Yankee this is Mike Echo Six Four, psionometrics spiking from up here, everything ok?”
“Copy that, Mike Echo, We’re fine, beginning lateral descent.”
“Good luck, Oscar Yankee, Mike Echo Six Four out.”
“Oscar Yankee keep your speed up, there’s spotters that saw a supporting aircraft.”
“David Foster Wallace, for fucks sake what is your deal?”
“Uh, uh – Megan?”
“David!”
“Sorry, I’m uh, It’s really been lately about still getting used to the virtual equivalents of slumber and waking.”
“But you can hear me?”
“Oh, OH! Oh no, shoot are you on open bands?”
“No, no, we’re good.”
“Ok, cuz wow, phew, for a second there”
“Yeah-“
“If they fixed your position-“
“Right.”
‘What’s to keep them from-“
“Can you tell me something about Floresia? I’m supposed to land on one of its sky scrapers in less than two minutes.”

>>14499870
“Floresia? Oh, yes, ok, the yes, bear with me, it wasn’t a thing anyone had heard of during my time.”
“No problem. Glad to know you can hear m-“
“So Floresia, from what I can glean, has some of the wealthiest real estate in the country, er, hemisphere, it’s not a part of the United States. It’s a seasteaded progressive metropolis, successful largely because of green sex tourism and a huge influx of geriatric boomers after Floresia legalized recreational euthanasia, beating the mainland US by three decades, and was able to get trillions of dollars of assets transferred to the Floresian accounts as part of the mercantilist legal frameworks configured to make the most of the doddering boomer tourists eager to indulge and go out asphyxiated betwixt collegiate thighs or glutes, or confined to a cannibinoidally smogged diving bell floated into the Pacific’s dark churn before trifolding doors contract and so discretely deposit the deceased into the depths, a pre-mortem quantity of leaden weights being orally ingested by the customer as part of the service before their being hotboxed and pushed off to sea, or else the next popular alternative, the boomer mainstay of a shopping spree, weaving a scooter or shuffling behind a cart, a to-be-triggered device waits affixed to their hips ready to release at some orchestrated point of the spree, perhaps the check-out, or in the canned vegetables or the ice cream novelties, the Floresian proprietary ‘Terminus’ juice, said to stimulate the psycho-psionic reticula to ease the transition from morally controversial and ecologically costly existence to that of the slumped over customers who signed all the accompanying notarized Floresian legalese permitting the recreational euthanasia providers to dispose of the remains by the expedient chemical corpse digesters displayed prominently in addition to the private suicide studios and euthanasian dungeons but also in topiaried Floresian parks, iconic commercial courtyards and aureate residential complexes, said to be long mundane, the disposals’ distinct bright green piping nearly everywhere, although many still opt to zip up the remains in similarly hued bright green sapient waste sacks and send them to private corpse digesters.
“Holy fucking shit. What the fuck.”
“Yeah, it’s a unique society, alright.”
“Why?”
“They had tons of legal drugs and legal sexual economies to start. Euthanasia was just another subgenre to those markets.”
“Still pretty fucked up.”
“Yeah it seems largely caste based too. The enhanced aren’t the ones obligated to report for digestion.”
“What’s it like on the ground?”
“Sidearms are permitted but they must be worn openly and registered with the Floresian Sisterhood, one of heir constitutional branches it seems.”

>>14495835

GR: Your output is intensely personal. What motivates your level of sincerity? Do you find it necessary to hold anything back for yourself?

MB: Every person is an individual mass of potentially sincere or insincere output. If someone is acting "insincere" it probably means they're wanting to project an idealized version of themselves—which isn't any less real than their "less ideal" self, just like "up" isn't any less real because "down" exists; the process of getting to know a person becomes longer because it now requires guesswork. I always want to fast forward a person's coding to get to the thing writing it, which to me seems infinitely more complex and interesting, but also unreachable because I'm never going to enter someone else's consciousness. I like reading things that make me feel like I sort of can, though.

A lot of my book is just the result of me milking my brain for boring, intimate details because I think boring, intimate details about people are funny and honest and comprise so much of what life feels like to me. I also don't like, ooze sincerity. I lie. Being honest seems like the best method of connecting with another person, but it feels easiest when I'm alone and typing things into a computer.

The drink had flowed to such extent the scribes put away all records, conceding customary documentation of vows, honors, disputes and resolutions that attend these rarest of occasions, a cavern hosted feast joining the many Men of the Mountains, attended also by parties of finely educated Sindhi, Kalosh and Persian scribes who wore their erudition by their elaborate dress, the occasion's import requiring such honor bound adornment because this was not a festive meal nor a formal counsel between leaders, war lords, and socially ascendant chieftains but a ritual where their futures were declared and pooled, odds set at ease, fortunes churned and set to the tracks of new destinies, new bindings and codes, renewed intimations and breathtaking divinations, the feast's current intermission of Enochian Tea and bhang and poppy yogurt being served to each guest in sipping obsidian bowls each with a deftly tucked rose-rolled cigarette loaded with a local potpourri of what translates imperfectly to "Moon Juice," a highly stimulatory cerebromantic conjurin favored most during the Fighting Season when it is least occasion to so indulge, filling many obviously fake legends where such smog inspired holy warriors were said to burn down not one cigarette but packets of Moon Juice or "Kubricks," as GIs came to call them in their classified slang, finding them often in the clutches of easily slain men, making it obvious to the seasoned and talented mountain-inured combatants that such drugs, whatever their benefit, had little to aid the warrior at war, even a sacred or holy war. And it was only several minutes after the last esteemed guest was slyly and surreptitiously disarmed, swift and silent harem hands soothing a portion of scarred torso or inner thigh while another lifts machine pistols, revolvers, laser-bristled handguns daubed in ornamental colors of foreign flags, aureate and argentate frames, knives, bush swords, gladii, kukris and war clubs, snake skin and ostrich holsters and dromedary scabbards, their respective concubinages in tow to each guest had survived until now by sensing by tender tip toes the capricious monstrosities they also dutifully bedded, which made the silently pounced upon moment's sneaky grabs and seizures successful, although one hopes any detected misdeed to their masters could be deflected in amorous gestures, laundered in lust, but it was in everyone's interest, especially the formerly armed champions, for weapons to exit the introduction of the Nodian hospitality and its attendant aggressive disassociation from corporeal sensoria, requiring an utmost dexterity and grace by each guests' respective team of sheered fleshy doters, many of their heads cured bald with lime when captured and oiled shiny for conspicuous display to the powerful audience,

>>14502950
many of the more affluent guests showcasing prized formerly hulking captives made into similarly hairless eunuchs who were mostly unseen, barely seen receiving first the ladies removed jangle-prone precious accessories from their wrists and elbows, before receiving in their oafishly cupped hands the carefully the confiscated guns and blades and taking them per the wordless gestures and looks of the women to somewhere safe for the coming festivities. Long dormant, the mountains were alive again, as they had not been for thousands of years. There was a new warrior that entered their holy garden of combat, a Yankee woman, a new invention though.

So is she actually footfag or is it just a meme?

>>14502966
>>>14502144
Note her clever choice of wine

>>14502966
Megan finds in feet, especially her own or those of her girlfriends, expressive forms, gestures and micrometer dramas, an askance unpolished toe ring, muddled by so much unshod traipsings at after-party hours, or the new anklet blessing an unsure girl's every step, a just below tickly reminder of her, of her power loaded through her legs, or the ritualized psychedelia of henna hewn hyperreality, feet more than feet, no longer of flesh but resplendent architectures, flower gardens, leaping fish and frogs, toes crowned in reticulating gems, soles chalked in crimson and violet powders so that the footprints themselves become a legible ink of feminine record tread upon Goddess Earth, her stones, sands, muds and clays daubing the travelling women's do annointed feet, mixing in the compacture and blourished lamina a vivid biographical knowledge, sweaty patinas and acidic sour notes manifest in the most ageless of human tools, marching, moving, walking forward, somewheres.

Megan finds in feet, especially her own or those of her girlfriends, expressive forms, gestures and micrometer dramas, an askance unpolished toe ring, muddled by so much unshod traipsings at after-party hours, or the new anklet blessing an unsure girl's every step, a just below tickly reminder of her, of her power loaded through her legs, or the ritualized psychedelia of henna hewn hyperreality, feet more than feet, no longer of supply fleshed skeletal blooms but resplendent architectures, flower gardens, leaping fish and frogs, toes crowned in reticulating gems, soles chalked in crimson and violet powders so that the footprints themselves become a legible ink of feminine record tread upon Goddess Earth, Her stones, sands, muds and clays daubing the travelling womens' so annointed feet, mixing in the compacture and blourished lamina a vivid biographical knowledge, sweaty patinas and acidic sour notes manifest in the most ageless of human toils, marching by the oldest sapient tool, walking forward, somewheres.

>>14502966
Megan finds in feet, especially her own or those of her girlfriends, expressive forms, gestures and micrometer dramas, an askance unpolished toe ring, muddled by so much unshod traipsings at after-party hours, or the new anklet blessing an unsure girl's every step, a just below tickly reminder of her, of her power loaded through her legs, or the ritualized psychedelia of henna hewn hyperreality, feet more than feet, no longer of supply fleshed skeletal blooms but resplendent architectures, flower gardens, leaping fish and frogs, toes crowned in reticulating gems, soles chalked in crimson and violet powders so that the footprints themselves become a legible ink of feminine record tread upon Goddess Earth, Her stones, sands, muds and clays daubing the travelling womens' so annointed feet, mixing in the compacture and blourished lamina a vivid biographical knowledge, sweaty patinas and acidic sour notes manifest in the most ageless of human toils, marching by the oldest sapient tool, walking forward, somewheres.

"One more thing before you go, Oscar Yankee."
"I'm listening, Professor."
"Your hotel suite has...unique accomodations with which you should be familiar."
"Ok, so like a bidet?"
"Yes, you have four it looks like, one for each toilet and a minge mop closet in the second bedroom."
"Ok, well, I am - thanks, for the heads-up."
"No, Oscar Yankee, it's - so,"
"What?"
"Your room has several -"
"What? Fruit baskets? Tell them I hate something or I'm deathly allergic. I want to see what they do."
"You're free to prank the concierge, Oscar Yankee but Floresia has several fully indentured servant castes and your hotel is famous for-"
"Aerial sommeliers?"
"Human toilets."
"Like?"
"Fully expecting to be sat upon and receive all emitted human waste."
"Ok."
"You have no conventional toilets in your accomodation."
"Isn't this supposed to the uppermost floor, like the nicest?"
"Oh, it is, you've round the clock servants, laundry, chefs, masseuses, conversationalists, psychic media, baristas, butchers, gaucho-garbed pitmasters, Tokobashi certified Geishas, Reiki Interventionists, tantric rolfers-"
"But wait, there's seriously not a single normal vanilla non kinky means of going to the bathroom?"
"Oscar Yankee, don't you dare kink shame these selfless toilet slaves-"
"Oh come on, Professor, really? You too?"
"If you're badmouthing their giving spirit, you're going to come off as the bad guy here, that's just basic human psychology-"
"Ok, but, um, yeah, so, I just will try not to spend much time there I guess."
"It's-"
"What?"
"More complicated."
"How can you help me, Geek Squad?"
"I'm trying to help you avoid a big faux pas. Kink shaming is to the Floresians what a facially-tatted gangbangers were to your time."
"You mean fuckin' hot as hell?"
"Oh, Oscar Yankee, I did not need to know that granular detail about your carnal preferences"
"I think if I did a gangbang, I'd want some acrobatic Salvadorans yipping and hooting as they just clobber me two or three to a hole, greedy feral thugs-"
"..."
"You still there, Professor? I didn't lose you to eroticism did I?"
"No-no, I guess I deserve it for booking you in the mouth potted lavatory. It has the best vantage points for counter surveillance, and connects to the former city's underground."
"Well, that's swell, Professor, I'll keep that in mind as I'm chatting up the porcelain people."
"So, I would be mistaken to not implore you that the human toilet, at least at this advanced level - whoever is in your room is no amateur or weekender - they accept this on a philosophical level, a hard coded conviction to accept your waste. They might talk with you but it's kinda like handing a sushi chef fish sticks. I'm probably not making any sense, Oscar Yankee."
"No, uh, I appreciate the subtle detail. There's more to this than I thought."

>>14503684
"You've experience in erotic pooping?"
"I think it's moreso about power, so it's like power pooping or something like that."
"Well if you do not use any of the provided for toilets, Floresia will take it as the highest insult to their values."
"I can't just like mash it down the bidet drain with room service cutlery?"
"It sounds like a ledger is kept of each guest serviced by the "Ingesters" as the hotel branded its human toilet program. And so you'll be joining storied company if you use them and use them well."
"Ok, alot riding on something totally not related to why we're here."
"It's about blending in, Oscar Yankee."
"Ok, and maybe also about not having nightmare fuel for the rest of my years."
"You want to be the only guest who is not pooping in their fancy kinkster pad's hominid latrines? You think that's discrete?"
"Well, whatever it is-"
"Use at least whoever is waiting mouth agape adjoining the Mistress Suite."
"You had better tell me right now if you're fucking with me, Professor."
"Oscar Yankee, I've compiled the past decades worth of briefings given in Farsi, Pashto, Arabic, Russian and French and they all insist upon their agents using the human toiletry."
"Ok, but how do you unsee it, or like, be a normal person after pooping into another human being's mouth?"
"Oscar Yankee, they literally beg, ritualistically beg before thundrous Floresian Stadia and are showered in thrown bouquets and tossed tulips and chucked blossoms for each and every adoptee welcomed into the toilet training sodalities."
"Um, yeah, so I get that it's important to them, but what about if you're not of a culture where you bathroom on other people? Is that so weird?"
"Now, yes, but I get your point."
"Don't you have to poop professor? You still have that body that's gotta be inhabited and walked and showered every so often."
"Twice every week."
"That's brutal, I'm down to one shower a week, it's awesome."

>>14495103
Dumb bitch, don't you have anything better to do?

Napkin, feet, jam and spoons
Summit picnic Gobi dunes
Birdsong flutters flirty tunes
Meg unlaces boots dragoons
Talc coughed soles, hoot baboons
Steam wisps as in cartoons

Megan soles inflame afluster
Rashed by kitty litter bluster
Scrubbing her feet to new luster
Cursed by fur poofs burning muster
'mmonia scented ex's duster
If you ain't G, you a buster

>>14504043

>>14495290
They are destroying all of our work in ridding the board of acc trannies. Is it a plot?

She says she's always high on adderall, and writes like she's always high on adderall.

What exactly is liable or unique about this? You could replace her with any number of faceless females from these days. Give them a few months supply of adderall and tell them to write and the result would be the same.

>>14506053
It's penis inspection for this >>14506053 anon
Trousers trundled beneath lamps xenon
Chilled fondlings by Kiba from Bhutan
Mia with calipers, brought from San Juan
Chartings and graphings, phallic polygon
Tape measured penile phenomenon
"Hold still, look, the merry mastodon!"
Testing for wronglusts, toxic Babylon
Virgin assays swiped by the lexicon
"No fairer pizzle this morn laid hands on"
Aylen chewed jellies, folk meds Huron
To spew coat the cut tip of your baton
Penis Donation, brochures from Hebron

>>14495103
Top o' the morning, Megheads!

>>14495103
Megan Boyle's a writer's writer. If you're a reader, you might not get her.

Sup bmore

Remember when Tao Lin used to spam his own stuff on this board every day?

>>14495103
Autofiction entails too an "auto-critique," both a kind of parallel corrective process during the creative transcription, writing, and the exacting re-examination afterwards, editing. I think these get mixed up more in the autofictional mode but so too does the self we think is getting bared. It's not simply an error in the textual construction but in the writer's own life. In this sense, a good autofiction method may play a psychologically therapeutic role, permitting the self to be edited, life to be altered.

>>14495103
Of course not- why would anyone’s mindless ramblings be a substitute for something improved/cared about
use your damn head

>the current state of alt authorettes

>>14510668
>trying the Bernie thing again
Jesus, do these people just enjoy shame and humiliation and defeat?

Currants drying in sunlight, Ponceau in nitrocellulose, cinnamon powders with hilly glints, the least tamed of Megan's hairs crisscross in hazey micrometries, mahogany traceries, ruddy stonework, cherry threadings originating from berry knots, rosy tangles, capillaries piping sangrias, Burgundies, Beaujolais, carmine flows, fluids, blazes, breezes of ruby, rhubarb, Swiss chard stems, willowy scarlets, lipsticks, fire extinguishers, emergency vehicles, curvaceous sports cars, reds that can be felt, feathered through fingers, teased, twisted, twizzlers, candy canes, barber poles, ruined red slinkies, cooling lava, oxygen-rich blood, myoglobin, blue rare centers, balloons, bows, alta dyed soles, carnelian stones, ziggurats of beet roots, cardinals and tanagers circulating a bath, splashing in blurried pairs, petunias, vermillion brows in felinated fixation.

>>14510668
mira lived and will die as a boring prostitute

>>14510668
that's so generous of Mira. I'm good though. Got some vintage Megan

>>14510124
Tao is doing great. I'm excited for his new work, Leave Society. He just posted a table of contents in the past day or so. But I hope he stays away from this shit hole.

>>14510668
>>14512800
a fitting end and a small price to pay for her hacky ways

>>14513341
Um, bruh, She's 27, what do you expect, lmfao.

>>14513323
tao has knopf now, he doesn't need us anymore

>>14512856
They are cute n chubby :3

>>14513656
Megan's feet are how women's feet used to be aesthetically represented before the paraphiliafied cybermancy changed everything to penis toes and HD sole close-ups

>>14511715
how did this dude bag such a based girl

>>14514676
Tao is a productive beast, a gifted writer and smart. But how he got Megan, who knows. They're still only separated and not formally divorced I think.

>>14514676
Based girls choose their men.

Legend, that, Megan The Centaurides
Bolts lightning fast by her daily Wheaties
Leap and speed records, all shattered freakies
Lapping sirens and satyrs, her galopping speedies
Returning from drills, Meg shines quite greasies
Coveralled spongers hatted in beanies
"Shampoo thorough, Leaping Archimedes"
Four Meg feet on equine legs creepies
Merest errands greet jaunty cities
Safe Centaur passage by gilded treaties

What material is Megan Boyle's beetle box? Wood? Marble? Porphyry?

Oh, well, knowing myself, I would only ever bodger something like that up, so as ungracious as this seems, I can't, not for short of wanting to, but knowing how threadbare things have been and considering now another set of goals to juggle and keep alive throughout that process, whatever I know, I do not know how to be good at that, how to excel at that process, to be more than proficient, to be impressive per your metrics, your clients, your style and rhetoric standards, and I know enough to know you care about your work, and so I'm taking the social risk here in being more candid about whatever or whoever you need is best being someone other than me and my unreliability and inconsistency and phobia towards delivering and I belabor this only for your benefit, all because it helps maybe temper your seduced perspective that doesn't appreciate how greatly I fear the emptiness after a project good or dreadful is dead, once blooming, but always moving towards cindered blooping singularity somewheres in memory's lived wake, and otherwise without me droning at length like this, you had no way of knowing what your innocent invitation flirted with, why it's the only downside to such generous casting of your lines, you make hook an ungainly boot rather than the big one. I admire your aggressiveness and zeal and being so forthright too. It's how such things are kept alive, and I truly respect the work you do and that's why I regret this fate, but i assure you it's far from compulsive and is highly calculated and thought out, knowing that whatever loss of face or ridicule I receive here it pales in comparison to whatever would get me out there and I don't want you to loathe me or to know the full extent of how full of shit I am so it's essential that this awkward exchange be the be all and end all for us. Sorry, that came out way too prescriptive or proscriptive, double my apologies and that ambiguity should give you pause too, not just that you live in a world of deadlines and cycles and seasons and annuals and special features and I to put it plainly do not, but that you need a specific product with a specific feel and there are feeder programs designed to give you the kind or person you need. In a sense it would be such a jarring attempt for us to attempt a fit. And you are so creative and strategic and sharp and you take risks which is why you reached out in the first place and your instincts are sort of correct but in ways that I could never explain without inviting woe into both our lives, which is why I should say no more on that point, only to just if I may underline that I still enjoy and support you completely and sure, maybe in some future point there's some world where we work, but there may be much less i wish to retain a grip upon at that point. I worry I've only wasted your time and always hate these sorts of synchronicities where a new group must learn why they must avoid me like the plague, which is why I've tried to condense everything.

Has she talked any about her MKUltra programming?