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Using AI to edit your smut can be so wild. ProWritingAid decided that this sentence…
QuoteKai’e’ie is insatiable—ravenous, breath-stealing, and covetous—and its expression is primal and passionate fucking.
…needs this correction:
QuoteKai’e’ie is insatiable—ravenous, breath-stealing, and covetous—and its expression is primal and passionate about fucking.
I mean, sure, I’m as passionate about fucking as anyone, but that isn’t quite what I was going for there. I can only assume the algorithm assumed Kai’e’ei is a name rather than an emotion and that I was trying to make small talk instead of comparing two different emotional states—Kai’e’ie versus mi’lee’veez—related to intimacy. (Kai’e’ie’: combined from syllables from words meaning love, say, life, and bond; combined, the meaning is, literally love said, life bound, or figuratively, without you, I die. The fictional people who created this word are apparently as dramatic as I can write them. Mi’lee’veez: the root words in their entirety and proper order mean my dream heart. Sappity-sap-sop, someone get a mop.)
This is what I get for creating a fictional language for my novel. 🙄 J.R.R., you’re a horrible influence.
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Our cats have access to two cat beds, several chairs, a couch, a couple boxes, a footrest, a beanbag, countless pillows and blankets, a sunny windowsill with a blanket in it, our bed, and a cat tree. The cats are permitted to have a cuddle, nap, or lazy moment in all of these places. If we don’t catch them first, there’s even a couple baskets of clean laundry that might be comfy.
…and Woozle wants to sleep on top of a flat of toilet paper jammed into a storage shelf.
Cats, man. You just can’t make sense of them.- Show previous comments 3 more
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No surprise to me – my cats always seem to have a new favorite thing to lie down in or on. We call it “surface of the week.”
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I no longer have cats, but my half-Maine Coon brothers, Toivo and Aino, preferred to nap on top of the kitchen cabinets, or in Toivo’s case, on the very small window ledge in the bathroom, after he’d swept it clear of offending shampoo bottles. Both of them would deign to sit in boxes, which was often complicated by their size, but Aino also liked to hide inside paper bags, which for some reason offended Toivo no ends. The battle to free Aino could last for a good half hour before the paper bag was in tatters.
They weren’t fond of my feet (unlike my corgi who has cost me several years of lifespan when she stealth-licks my ankles) but Toivo liked to give me large, dead horseflies. They were placed carefully on the pillow next to my head.
I miss having cats...
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Mine? Starts with me hearing the high pitch noises, find the Queen having kittens, so I claimed half the litter (three of six). Seventeen years later, I still have one of them with me (the other two have ventured across the rainbow bridge).
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My smartass husband almost doomed us all. He’s eating animal crackers and found a cookie that appeared to be two different critters stuck together. What’s he suggest? ”Hey. Think we can fix this chimera with alchemy?”
No, Cold. HAYELL no. We are not breaking the alchemical taboo in twenty-twenty-anything, this is not the decade to risk it! There are two whole anime series about just why we don’t mess around with that!
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We ordered Chinese tonight, and got a broken fortune cookie. My husband’s response? “Now that’s a misfortune right there.”
I’m choking on my chicken, people.
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I’ve got another zinger from hubs to share! A few minutes ago, I was chatting with Cold about my plants in the window and I said, “I mean, those two need repotting already. They must really like this southern exposure!”This guy. This absolute smartass. He looked at me with a completely innocent face and said, “yeah, but I don’t know how they can stand the accent.”
…y’all. Cold has a southern accent.
Yes, I choked on my spit. That mouth of his makes me so stinking proud sometimes.