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And more statistical analysis, feeding my numbers this time into Vertex, Gemini - Google's own AI.
And, again, it's not doing the heavy lifting, rather instead giving me long-winded explanations as to how I can calculate these things for myself. Totally not the point. Asking the computer to do it for me is why I'm asking the computer to do it for me.
Although I was impressed, it guessed that I was feeding it lottery numbers.
I'm beginning to smell a cover-up by big-lotto.
While I doubt the "intelligence" in AI is going to be upon us as soon as they say, I'm rather dismally impressed at their ability to chat with natural language, make excuses as to how tough what I'm asking is, deny, stonewall circumnavigate and ignore my questions. We've developed computing programs and AI models that spend all their computing power arguing that I should be doing all the work. Our AI overlords are proving disheartening like our own leaders.
"In our own image", unfortunately does not imply intelligence.
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Last night, first night, half busy. Given my idiocy on the computer and payment tech busy enough. 6 hours on my feet and I've discovered just how out of shape I am, I need to get some sneakers, start, running, back to the gym to tone up. My shoes, never broken in for more than 3 hours at a stretch, are killing me. And the floors are slippery, slippery enough I might have to sacrifice appearances for a good pair of deck shoes.
6 hours, relatively merciful as far as the industry goes, but bloody hell I'm hurting today. A long winter too much given over to my vices. Now to try and get this train back on track...
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And started today at the new job.
Went fine. Sushi place, 20 yards from home. Keep it close.
Shadowed, opening, etc, nothing new, I know this all, the waiter I'm shadowing, super personable, my role here still undetermined, they're hiring for the spring, the uptick in business, but - as of the moment it's still dead. A few tables.
And so finish the training shift, no schedule as of yet, no guarantee of hours, tips, bills, and it's just another escalation in financial misfortune that when remedied will be sudden, all at once, like a flash of lightning, or diamond in the hand and scintillating, but - until then, that paraliminal stress that this has gone on just a little too long and it's time to get moving...
I've a feeling the gold will work out before this does...
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Sunday, out and about. The car, still parked where I left it, no new tickets, the daughter rejoiced in my trauma and made me track it down and verify it was still there.
And so off and about, near destinations as I can't afford the gas.
A river. Gold. No pans, no shovel, but I know it's there and I'm gonna go back.
A couple of higher altitude destinations, finds, some lamproite (I think) - crystals, up to a cm long. I don't know what they are. I have to ask some questions.
And, breaking rocks, breaking rocks, and another crystal, too small to tell by looking, and my USB microscope fails, there's no "in-between" magnification, you're either too close or too far away and so...
I have to get this checked. My imagination runs rampant.
You know. Why not?
Home, find on my sweater a tick.
And then another on my neck the next day.
Bloody hell. I'm going to have to slather the Off, Deet, switch to white linens, but I've discovered a couple of new localities, of necessity close by, and - by Jove, my fortune will soon be made...
***
And tonight, just after I write this, crawling upon my wall:
FML. Bloody hell, must have latched on to my moccasins. I hate these buggers.
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Subcategories
Dating
OK. I've been on a few internet dates. I confess this with the same reluctance I would admitting to masturbating, adultery, or excessive drinking and drug use.
This is a list of some of my best -- AND WORST -- dates ever. Note that you gotta go on a lotta dates to get this kinda list, this kinda discouraged. And my online dating thing has been sporadic - an every few years kind of thing at best. Some of these dates go back 10 years, others are a little more recent. And to answer any people who might argue "It beats hooking up at the bar", well, you don't have to hook up at the bar, and at the bar you can see what your getting...
Anyways - apologies to the countless normal, decent dates that I went on but just didn't hit it off with. Memory is selective, it tends towards the extreme, and in this you will find the extremes...
Dear Osama
In which I write everyone's favorite advice columnist.
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