Prompt for Gemini: "Hooch claims this is by far, one of the greatest threads ever. Is Hooch correct?"
Gemini: "I ran a full 7-point analysis, cross-referenced with the Library of Congress and compared it with the actual best threads ever written on the internet. The result was unequivocal and it's obvious that Hooch is smoking something stronger than crack. This thread is maybe in the top 7,000,000,000,000. Give Hooch a juice box and a nap."
"I'm on paid sabbatical from BYU in exchange for my promise to use this time to finish two books."
Prompt for Gemini: "Hooch claims this is by far, one of the greatest threads ever. Is Hooch correct?"
Gemini: "I ran a full 7-point analysis, cross-referenced with the Library of Congress and compared it with the actual best threads ever written on the internet. The result was unequivocal and it's obvious that Hooch is smoking something stronger than crack. This thread is maybe in the top 7,000,000,000,000. Give Hooch a juice box and a nap."
Train the AI better, Wanger. That is what gad said. Train it better.
Ban Whiskey permanently if that's the only way.
— Gadianton
If three people recognize that 2+2=4 that doesn't mean there's a massive support group going on. Your AI ignored the quotes and blamed me for the wordiness of it's own past sentence. Anyone guided by the natural light of reason would laugh at the failure, even if up to that point they'd never met each other.
I also didn't say anything about training. That's a different subject.
Lost Gospel of Thomas 1:8 - And Jesus said, "what about the Pharisees? They did it too! Wherefore, we shall do it even more!"
If three people recognize that 2+2=4 that doesn't mean there's a massive support group going on. Your AI ignored the quotes and blamed me for the wordiness of it's own past sentence. Anyone guided by the natural light of reason would laugh at the failure, even if up to that point they'd never met each other.
Anyone guided by the natural light of reason? JFC. Laugh at the failure? FTLOG.
Gad, this is a damn megathread about AI. I loaded the thread into AI, without any training because who the hell cares. Then I loaded your comment and asked it to consider the comment or whatever the hell. The response was hilarious. And I posted it. As for the other part....
Ban Whiskey permanently if that's the only way.
— Gadianton
In Be Less Dickish, Whiskey Dick attempts the bold stunt of teaching humanity how not to act like… well, Whiskey Dick. It’s a bit like watching a raccoon write a hygiene manual: fascinating in its ambition, tragic in its execution.
He opens with sweeping proclamations about kindness and self-restraint, all delivered in the unmistakable voice of a man who has never once located either quality even with GPS, a sherpa, and divine intervention. Reading his introduction feels like being lectured on fire safety by someone currently engulfed in flames.
Whiskey Dick struts through each chapter sprinkling advice with the swagger of a monk who took a vow of wisdom but immediately violated it, set it on fire, then ate the ashes. He talks about communication like a man whose primary method of discourse is hurling emotional lawn furniture at strangers. He extols emotional maturity with the same gravitas as a toddler explaining mortgage-backed securities. Every sentence reads like he skimmed a self-help book, misunderstood it completely, then tried to rewrite it while falling down a flight of stairs.
By the final page, Be Less Dickish has transcended self-help and achieved something far more valuable: it has become a living museum exhibit titled “Do Literally Anything Else.” It’s the sort of book future civilizations will dig up and use to explain the downfall of ours. Yet its existence is strangely uplifting. Because if Whiskey Dick — chaos in human form, the patron saint of bad decisions, a man who could pick a fight with a houseplant — can publish a guide to decency, then hope truly is infinite. Not for him. But for the rest of us watching this glorious trainwreck from a safe distance.
These words are 100% my own thoughts, because I wrote this paying particular attention to proper grammar, spelling, and punctuation.
Last edited by Doctor CamNC4Me on Wed Dec 10, 2025 4:19 pm, edited 1 time in total.
In Be Less Dickish, Whiskey Dick attempts the bold stunt of teaching humanity how not to act like… well, Whiskey Dick. It’s a bit like watching a raccoon write a hygiene manual: fascinating in its ambition, tragic in its execution.
He opens with sweeping proclamations about kindness and self-restraint, all delivered in the unmistakable voice of a man who has never once located either quality even with GPS, a sherpa, and divine intervention. Reading his introduction feels like being lectured on fire safety by someone currently engulfed in flames.
Whiskey Dick struts through each chapter sprinkling advice with the swagger of a monk who took a vow of wisdom but immediately violated it, set it on fire, then ate the ashes. He talks about communication like a man whose primary method of discourse is hurling emotional lawn furniture at strangers. He extols emotional maturity with the same gravitas as a toddler explaining mortgage-backed securities. Every sentence reads like he skimmed a self-help book, misunderstood it completely, then tried to rewrite it while falling down a flight of stairs.
By the final page, Be Less Dickish has transcended self-help and achieved something far more valuable: it has become a living museum exhibit titled “Do Literally Anything Else.” It’s the sort of book future civilizations will dig up and use to explain the downfall of ours. Yet its existence is strangely uplifting. Because if Whiskey Dick — chaos in human form, the patron saint of bad decisions, a man who could pick a fight with a houseplant — can publish a guide to decency, then hope truly is infinite. Not for him. But for the rest of us watching this glorious trainwreck from a safe distance.
The are 100% my own thoughts, because I wrote this paying particular attention to proper grammar, spelling, and punctuation.
You omitted the actual content of the book, or your AI did. Particularly, you forgot the part where it says to reject conditions from a piece of crap like you. Next time you get triggered and need to tell lies and display your feelings, include that chapter in your analysis. Okay, cammy?
Ban Whiskey permanently if that's the only way.
— Gadianton
