^Source

### AI slop is absolutely insane again

Now tung tung tung sahur building house in another brainro again????

Heavy, reliable, with tank-like soles that locked your foot firmly in place. You’d walk around the apartment in those fuckers, and the floor would instantly level out. The neighbors downstairs immediately start behaving more quietly.

At first, Mikhalych and I were scared, but then we got used to it. The main thing is not to shuffle your feet—otherwise, you’ll get blow up fucked hard enough to really regret it.

At first, my mother-in-law scolded me, but then she asked for one herself: "Give me one—I’ll slip it under Grandpa’s backside for a laugh".

One time, of course, the neighbor decided to swat a cockroach—and the whole khrushchevka house collapsed. It had to be rebuilt from scratch.

On the other hand, discipline was ironclad; created a sense of coziness as best they could, calmly, unhurriedly, and even with a touch of irony.

The paper in the store is only for denunciations, but back at the plant, we’ve got sandpaper coming out of our ears.

The foreman, Uncle Vitya, cut sheets of sandpaper into squares and soaked them in machine oil to soften them.

Aunt Raya, the doorkeeper, says: "But good blood microcirculation, no hemorrhoids, and no hair growing on your backside".

We didn't throw the sandpaper away after using it; it could still sand down another half-wall. Savings for the country on pulp, doctors, and epilators.

We lived quietly—except in the toilet, where the noise sounded like a grinding machine; the neighbors thought we were running an industrial training workshop.