Can I be #5?

Dear Feds, My name is Walter Hartwell White. I live at 308 Negra Arroyo Lane, Albuquerque, New Mexico, 87104. This is my confession. If you’re reading this comment, I’m probably dead- murdered by my brother-in-law, Hank Schrader. Hank has been building a meth empire for over a year now, and using me as his chemist. Shortly after my 50th birthday, he asked that I use my chemistry knowledge to cook methamphetamine, which he would then sell using connections that he made through his career with the DEA. I was… astounded. I… I always thought Hank was a very moral man, and I was particularly vulnerable at the time – something he knew and took advantage of. I was reeling from a cancer diagnosis that was poised to bankrupt my family. Hank took me in on a ride-along and showed me just how much money even a small meth operation could make. And I was weak. I didn’t want my family to go into financial ruin, so I agreed. Hank had a partner, a businessman named Gustavo Fring. Hank sold me into servitude to this man. And when I tried to quit, Fring threatened my family. I didn’t know where to turn. Eventually, Hank and Fring had a falling out. Things escalated. Fring was able to arrange – uh, I guess… I guess you call it a “hit” – on Hank, and failed, but Hank was seriously injured. And I wound up paying his medical bills, which amounted to a little over $177,000. Upon recovery, Hank was bent on revenge. Working with a man named Hector Salamanca, he plotted to kill Fring. The bomb that he used was built by me, and he gave me no option in it. I have often contemplated s-icide, but I’m a coward. I wanted to go to the police, but I was frightened. Hank had risen to become the head of the Albuquerque DEA. To keep me in line, he took my children. For three months, he kept them. My wife had no idea of my criminal activities, and was horrified to learn what I had done. I was in hell. I hated myself for what I had brought upon my family. Recently, I tried once again to quit, and in response, he gave me this. [Walt points to the bruise on his face left by Hank in “Blood Money.”] I can’t take this anymore. I live in fear every day that Hank will kill me, or worse, hurt my family. All I could think to do was to make this video and hope that the world will finally see this man for what he really is.

How about drones? If you don’t want all of your information avaible online and don’t want remoteid to directly tell anyone and everyone where you live you can request not to do any of that stuff, right? Oh no, this is just for rich people flying in private jets that can transport humans and tons of cargo.

“The Republican Party of New Mexico will not be silenced. We will emerge from this stronger, more united, and more determined to fight for the people of New Mexico and the future of our country,”

Bitch, they just burned your office down. You’re not fighting for them, you are actively fighting against them.

My vr driving Sim rig just works in windows, the most I’ve ever had to do is map my shifter in game. Steamvr, hardware drivers, the actual games, it all just works without doing anything. Plug and play. I’m sure I can get it all working in Linux, eventually. I was(trying to) gaming on Ubuntu 10.04 with wine. I was first batch steamdeck and the amount of progress with gaming I’ve seen thanks to valve and proton means I’ll be coming back. But I’m just waiting for steamOS to be open release. But I am a KDE head so honestly I’ll end up whatever distro that does proton and KDE by the end of this year.

I played so much Minecraft with the clit mouse on a old dell laptop. Its was awesome.

People born in the 50s bought properties they didn’t need or use and didn’t sell them.

I can’t wait until June once I finish paying off those 2 pizzas I ordered for Christmas.

I miss the YouTube rabbit hole so much. I would genuinely pay to have the 2010 YouTube algorithm, or lack of, back.

Everything before 9/11 is fake news.

Computers, never invented.

AIDs and the cure for it, never happened.

Bill Clinton, I mean cmon, doesn’t fucking exist.

I’m old enough to remember when they were making all this stuff up. Like 2 whole world wars, yeah, right.

Biden on his deathbed won’t recognize his children, but will be very happy to see them.

Trump won’t recognize them, and scream in anger that something isn’t going his way. Like they gave him green jello instead of orange.

Trumps decline into bitter angry dementia is what he deserves. The whole world will get to watch as his screaming receives no attention. Watch as he forgets who he is and what he’s done, success and failure. Forgets everything and is only left with a head full of undirected anger and a diaper full of shit.

I’m immune to propaganda because I consume all of it. Can’t taste anything when everything is blended together.

You have to say pwease and tank you, missus moodey

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Me an muh kitteh when the sun comes up when I don’t have to work. She loves when I stay home for all day snuggles.

Everything leads to crabVTOL

Trump literally nominated Dr. Oz for administrator for the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services. Obviously the best pick to head government healthcare is the top “medical” talk show host.

Llama 3.3 70B

It was a typical day in the life of Donald Trump, scanning the news and social media for any mention of his name. But one headline caught his eye: “Tesla Sales Down, Elon Musk Under Pressure.” Donald’s heart skipped a beat as he thought about his beloved Elon, struggling to keep his company afloat.

Donald had always been a huge fan of Elon Musk, admiring his innovative spirit and entrepreneurial genius. He often found himself wondering what it would be like to meet Elon, to talk to him, to get to know him better. And now, with Tesla’s sales down, Donald saw an opportunity to not only help his idol but also to get closer to him.

He quickly picked up the phone and dialed the number of his local Tesla dealership. “I want to buy a new car,” he said, his voice firm and commanding. “The best one you have, with all the bells and whistles.”

The salesman on the other end of the line was thrilled to hear from Donald Trump, and he quickly arranged for a brand-new Tesla Model S to be delivered to Donald’s office. As Donald waited for his new car to arrive, he couldn’t help but think about Elon Musk and how much he wanted to meet him.

When the car arrived, Donald was impressed by its sleek design and advanced features. He took it for a spin, feeling like a million bucks as he cruised down the highway. And as he drove, he couldn’t help but imagine Elon Musk sitting in the passenger seat beside him, smiling and laughing as they talked about their shared love of innovation and success.

As the days went by, Donald found himself driving his new Tesla everywhere, showing it off to his friends and acquaintances, and always making sure to mention Elon Musk’s name. He even started tweeting about his new car, praising Elon’s genius and vision.

And then, one day, Donald received a direct message from Elon Musk himself. “Thanks for the support, Donald,” Elon wrote. “I’d love to meet you in person and talk about our shared passion for innovation.”

Donald’s heart skipped a beat as he read the message. He quickly arranged for a meeting with Elon, and a few days later, they sat down together in a luxurious conference room.

As they talked, Donald found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with Elon’s charming smile and quick wit. He was smitten, and he knew it. And as the meeting came to a close, Donald reached out and took Elon’s hand, looking into his eyes with adoration.

“Elon,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “I think I might be falling for you.”

Elon looked back at him, a hint of surprise in his eyes. But then, a slow smile spread across his face, and he leaned in close. “I think I might be falling for you too, Donald,” he whispered.

As they kissed, Donald knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful romance. He had bought a new car to support his beloved Elon, but in the end, he had found something much more valuable: love.