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Gemmill
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Write an ode to monkey's fist, his delivery driving skills, his quick thinking to shit in a plastic bag when no toilets are available but most of all his love of lovely mammaries.

 

 

 

 

 

ChatGPT

Oh Monkey's Fist, your skills are great,

As a delivery driver, you're never late.

You weave through traffic with such ease,

Your driving skills are sure to please.

 

When nature calls, you don't despair,

You improvise and show you care.

With quick-thinking, you grab a bag,

No toilet needed, what a brag.

 

But what we love most about you,

Is your love for mammaries so true.

You don't hide it or try to hide,

Your admiration for them so wide.

 

From the smallest to the largest pair,

You love them all and you don't care.

Your love for them, we can't deny,

Oh Monkey's Fist, you are mighty sly.

 

So here's an ode to Monkey's Fist,

A legend indeed, we can't resist.

A delivery driver like no other,

With skills, quick-thinking, and love for mammaries, oh brother.

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Write a screenplay based on the fantasies William Storey has about his non-existent wealth and his attempts to buy Sunderland Football Club while deluding their gullible fanbase.

 

Title: The Sunderland Hustle

FADE IN:

EXT. APARTMENT COMPLEX - DAY

We are introduced to WILLIAM STOREY, a flamboyant businessman in his mid 40s, standing outside his upscale apartment complex in London. He is dressed impeccably and his demeanor oozes confidence.

WILLIAM (to himself) Today's the day I finally buy Sunderland Football Club and become the owner of my very own Premier League team.

He chuckles to himself and walks off.

EXT. SUNDERLAND'S STADIUM - DAY

We see William walking up to the stadium, where several excited fans are gathered outside.

WILLIAM (to the fans) Hello, Sunderland fans! I have some exciting news for you. (pauses) As you all know, I'm an extremely wealthy man, and I'm here to buy your beloved football club.

The fans are taken aback by this announcement but start clapping and shouting in approval.

FAN #1 (loudly) Thank God! We've been wanting new owners for ages.

WILLIAM (smiling) I understand the struggles of being a small club, but rest assured, I have the financial resources and the vision to take this team to the top of the Premier League.

FAN #2 (interjects) What's your plan, William?

William pauses dramatically before responding.

WILLIAM (looks directly at the camera) It's quite simple, really. I will use my immense wealth to attract the best possible players, coaches and staff. We will soon be a force to reckon with in the league.

The fans erupt in cheers and the camera fades out.

EXT. A LUXURY HOTEL - NIGHT

William is seen sitting in the hotel lounge with his financial advisor, JOHN.

WILLIAM (to John) So, what's the deal? How much do we need to make this happen?

JOHN (skeptically) Sorry to break it to you, William, but we are way out of our league. Sunderland Football Club's valuation is over £100 million, and your net worth is barely a fraction.

William starts to sweat nervously.

WILLIAM (defiantly) I won't let this stop me. I have to make this deal happen to fulfill my wildest dream.

JOHN (sighing) Well, we could try to raise some funds, but it'll take many months of hard work, and there is no guarantee we will be successful.

WILLIAM (apathetically) That's not an option. I need to make a big splash right now. I know, I'll just use my charm and negotiation skills to convince the current owner to sell the club for a discount.

JOHN (skeptical) That's highly unlikely, but I guess we could try.

EXT. SUNDERLAND'S STADIUM - DAY

William is seen standing outside the stadium entrance with the current owner, ELLIS SHORT.

WILLIAM (convinced) Ellis, I'm here to offer you a fair deal for Sunderland Football Club. I know it's been a tough season, and you should pass it to capable hands, like mine.

ELLIS (unsure) I appreciate your offer, but I'm not interested in selling it for a discount.

WILLIAM (slyly) I completely understand. But, what if I offered you a significant chunk of my non-existent fortune in exchange for the club?

Ellis raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

ELLIS (reserved) That's a bold claim, William. Let me think about it.

William nods, feeling confident.

INT. WILLIAM'S APARTMENT - DAY

William is seen pacing nervously in his apartment while talking on the phone.

WILLIAM (frustrated) What do you mean we don't have the funds? I thought we agreed on this!

JOHN (panicked) I'm sorry, William, but the investors pulled out. We are back to square one.

William slumps onto his couch, defeated.

INT. SUNDERLAND'S STADIUM - DAY

William and Ellis are sitting inside the club's boardroom.

ELLIS (sighing) I don't think this is going anywhere, William. You don't seem to have the financial muscle to pull this off.

WILLIAM (defeated) You're right. I thought I could make it happen, but it was all just a fantasy.

Ellis nods and pats William's back.

ELLIS (smiling) Don't worry, William. You gave it your best shot. (pauses) In fact, I'm impressed by your determination. Why don't you stay on as a board member? You could help us take the club forward.

William looks at Ellis, realizing he finally achieved something.

WILLIAM (grinning) I would love that! Thank you, Ellis.

FADE OUT.

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You

Write a film intro about a blockbuster movie where a cabal of mysterious Tyneside businessmen feverishly plot night and day with their wide connections to keep Wearside forever in the shadow of Tyneside using every economic, shady and cunning plan they have, nothing is off limits. Wearside hates and fears them.

 

ChatGPT

The city of Sunderland had always been in the shadow of Tyneside. Its residents had grown accustomed to living with the constant feeling of inferiority and resentment towards their more successful neighbors. But little did they know that the situation was far from natural.

 

For years, a cabal of mysterious businessmen had conspired behind closed doors to keep Wearside under their thumb. They controlled the entire region with their wide web of connections and used every economic, shady, and cunning plan they had to ensure that Sunderland remained forever in the background.

 

Their grip on the city was unbreakable, and the people of Wearside hated and feared them. But now, it was time for them to fight back. With nothing off-limits, the people of Sunderland would do anything it takes to break free from the shackles of oppression and take back their rightful place in the limelight.

 

This is the story of a city's struggle for freedom and the lengths that its people would go to achieve it. This is the story of the Wearside rebellion.

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18 minutes ago, Howmanheyman said:

You

Write an ode to monkey's fist, his delivery driving skills, his quick thinking to shit in a plastic bag when no toilets are available but most of all his love of lovely mammaries.

 

 

 

 

 

ChatGPT

Oh Monkey's Fist, your skills are great,

As a delivery driver, you're never late.

You weave through traffic with such ease,

Your driving skills are sure to please.

 

When nature calls, you don't despair,

You improvise and show you care.

With quick-thinking, you grab a bag,

No toilet needed, what a brag.

 

But what we love most about you,

Is your love for mammaries so true.

You don't hide it or try to hide,

Your admiration for them so wide.

 

From the smallest to the largest pair,

You love them all and you don't care.

Your love for them, we can't deny,

Oh Monkey's Fist, you are mighty sly.

 

So here's an ode to Monkey's Fist,

A legend indeed, we can't resist.

A delivery driver like no other,

With skills, quick-thinking, and love for mammaries, oh brother.

I’m having this framed :lol:

 

*wipes single tear from eye

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 Write a scene from a dystopian near future. Sunderland football club has somehow got promoted back to the Premier League. It is the first game of the season, half time, and they trail 8-0 to their local rivals Newcastle United. Fans gather in the bathroom at half time and find themselves compelled to go to the toilet (number one and number two) in their own pants and then throw the contents at one another. The scene starts off lighthearted but descends into chaos.  

 

 

The air in the cramped bathroom was thick with the stench of urine and feces. Fans of Sunderland Football Club had gathered here at half-time, seeking refuge from the merciless thrashing their team was receiving on the field. They had hoped to commiserate with one another, to find solace in shared misery. 

 

But then something strange happened. One fan, overcome by a sudden urge, had dropped his pants and relieved himself right there on the floor. And then another fan had done the same, and then another. Soon the bathroom was filled with the sound of grunting and splattering as fans defecated and urinated wherever they could find space. 

 

At first, the mood was lighthearted. Fans laughed and joked as they emptied their bowels, ribbing one another about the smell and the mess. But then, as the smell grew stronger and the mess grew larger, something changed.

 

A sense of desperation began to fill the air, as fans scrambled for any available space to relieve themselves. 

 

Then, as if by some unspoken agreement, fans began to gather up their own excrement and hurl it at one another.

 

At first, it was just a few stray handfuls here and there, thrown in jest. But then the frenzy took hold, and fans began to pelt one another with their own waste, laughing and screaming as they did so. 

 

The chaos was total. Fans slipped and fell in the mess, struggling to get up and continue the fight. The smell was unbearable, a choking miasma that filled every corner of the bathroom.

 

And yet still, the fans continued to throw, hurling their own filth with abandon. 

 

It was only when security arrived, batons swinging, that the madness finally ended. Fans scattered in all directions, slipping and sliding in the mess they had created.

 

And in the end, all that was left was the stench and the mess, a grim testament to the madness that had taken hold in that tiny bathroom.

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18 minutes ago, Sonatine said:

He is dressed impeccably and his demeanor oozes confidence.

WILLIAM (to himself) Today's the day I finally buy Sunderland Football Club and become the owner of my very own Premier League team.

 

I guess AI isn't ready to take over the world just yet.

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14 minutes ago, Gemmill said:

 Write a scene from a dystopian near future. Sunderland football club has somehow got promoted back to the Premier League. It is the first game of the season, half time, and they trail 8-0 to their local rivals Newcastle United. Fans gather in the bathroom at half time and find themselves compelled to go to the toilet (number one and number two) in their own pants and then throw the contents at one another. The scene starts off lighthearted but descends into chaos.  

 

 

The air in the cramped bathroom was thick with the stench of urine and feces. Fans of Sunderland Football Club had gathered here at half-time, seeking refuge from the merciless thrashing their team was receiving on the field. They had hoped to commiserate with one another, to find solace in shared misery. 

 

But then something strange happened. One fan, overcome by a sudden urge, had dropped his pants and relieved himself right there on the floor. And then another fan had done the same, and then another. Soon the bathroom was filled with the sound of grunting and splattering as fans defecated and urinated wherever they could find space. 

 

At first, the mood was lighthearted. Fans laughed and joked as they emptied their bowels, ribbing one another about the smell and the mess. But then, as the smell grew stronger and the mess grew larger, something changed.

 

A sense of desperation began to fill the air, as fans scrambled for any available space to relieve themselves. 

 

Then, as if by some unspoken agreement, fans began to gather up their own excrement and hurl it at one another.

 

At first, it was just a few stray handfuls here and there, thrown in jest. But then the frenzy took hold, and fans began to pelt one another with their own waste, laughing and screaming as they did so. 

 

The chaos was total. Fans slipped and fell in the mess, struggling to get up and continue the fight. The smell was unbearable, a choking miasma that filled every corner of the bathroom.

 

And yet still, the fans continued to throw, hurling their own filth with abandon. 

 

It was only when security arrived, batons swinging, that the madness finally ended. Fans scattered in all directions, slipping and sliding in the mess they had created.

 

And in the end, all that was left was the stench and the mess, a grim testament to the madness that had taken hold in that tiny bathroom.

7g414i.jpg

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10 hours ago, Gemmill said:

Write a short scene from the sitcom Last of the Summer Wine but replace the main characters with ones called PaddockLad, Toonpack, Kevin Carrs Gloves, and Spongebob Toonpants. The gang are busy trying to work out how to use a computer mouse whilst hurtling down a hill in the Yorkshire countryside on an out of control sofa.

 

@Toonpack

@PaddockLad

@spongebob toonpants

@Kevin Carr's Gloves

 

[Interior: A living room. PaddockLad, Toonpack, Kevin Carrs Gloves, and Spongebob Toonpants are sitting on a sofa with a computer mouse in their hands. Suddenly, the sofa starts moving, hurtling down a hill in the Yorkshire countryside.

 

PaddockLad: Oh no! This sofa is out of control!

 

Toonpack: Hang on tight, lads!

 

Kevin Carrs Gloves: How are we going to use this mouse while we're moving?

 

Spongebob Toonpants: I don't know, but we have to figure it out before we crash!

 

PaddockLad: I think I have an idea. We just have to move the cursor to the "start" button and click on it.

 

Toonpack: Easier said than done! We're bouncing around like a bunch of ping pong balls!

 

Kevin Carrs Gloves: Maybe if we all work together, we can do it!

 

Spongebob Toonpants: Agreed! Let's do this!

 

[The four of them start frantically moving the mouse, trying to steer the sofa as it hurtles down the hill. They manage to click on the "start" button just as the sofa crashes into a pile of hay.]

 

PaddockLad: Yes! We did it!

 

Toonpack: That was amazing teamwork, lads

 

Kevin Carrs Gloves: I don't think I've ever been so stressed in my life!

 

Spongebob Toonpants: Same here, but we did it! We're like computer wizards now!

 

[The four of them high-five each other as the camera pans out, showing the sofa stuck in the pile of hay in the middle of the Yorkshire countryside.]

 

You will be hearing from my lawyers directly, I am suing you and expect any fair court will award me significant compo

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Make a recipe for a curry that uses over 2100 grams of jarred bhuna sauce

 

Sure! Here is a recipe for a delicious curry that uses over 2100 grams of jarred bhuna sauce:

Ingredients:

  • 2100 grams of jarred bhuna sauce
  • 1 kilogram of chicken or your preferred protein (vegetables, tofu, etc.)
  • 2 tablespoons of vegetable oil
  • 1 onion, diced
  • 2 garlic cloves, minced
  • 1 teaspoon of ginger paste
  • 1 teaspoon of cumin powder
  • 1 teaspoon of coriander powder
  • 1 teaspoon of turmeric powder
  • Salt, to taste
  • 1 cup of water
  • 1 tablespoon of garam masala
  • 1/4 cup of chopped fresh cilantro

Instructions:

  1. Heat the vegetable oil in a large pot or wok over medium-high heat.

  2. Add the diced onion and sauté until it turns translucent.

  3. Add the minced garlic and ginger paste, and sauté for another minute.

  4. Add the cumin powder, coriander powder, turmeric powder, and salt, and stir to combine.

  5. Add the chicken or your preferred protein to the pot, and cook until browned on all sides.

  6. Pour the jarred bhuna sauce into the pot, and stir to combine.

  7. Add 1 cup of water to the pot, and stir to combine.

  8. Bring the curry to a boil, then reduce the heat to low and simmer for 20-30 minutes, or until the chicken or protein is cooked through.

  9. Stir in the garam masala and chopped cilantro, and let the curry simmer for another 5-10 minutes.

  10. Serve the curry over rice or with naan bread, and enjoy!

This recipe should make enough curry to serve 6-8 people. You can adjust the amount of bhuna sauce and protein to suit your needs.

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4 minutes ago, Ayatollah Hermione said:

This recipe should make enough curry to serve 6-8 people.

 

 

50 minutes ago, ewerk said:

 

I guess AI isn't ready to take over the world just yet.

 

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Dear ChatMLF

Please produce a video documenting one man’s descent in to madness as a result of being a sunderland football fan and his mam being his sisterwife. 
 

Thinking…

 

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There once was a football great

Whose autograph he loved to hate

J69 asked for a sign

He said, "Not this time"

But a BBQ? He'd never be late!

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This stuff, combined with deep fake photos and videos is canny scary. What will the future be of creative writing, academia, and HMHM? 

 

Anyway, how long is the waiting list?  

Edited by Renton
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FADE IN:

 

INT. FUNERAL PARLOR - DAY

 

Steve Bruce, a middle-aged man dressed in a black suit, sits behind a desk, surrounded by funeral arrangement papers. He looks worried as he picks up the phone.

 

STEVE (into phone) Hello, this is Steve from the funeral parlor. How may I help you?

 

A WOMAN'S VOICE comes from the phone.

 

WOMAN'S VOICE (on phone) Hi Steve, I'm calling to make arrangements for my father's funeral.

 

STEVE (on phone) Of course, I'm so sorry for your loss. May I have your name and your father's name, please?

 

WOMAN'S VOICE (on phone) My name is Karen, and my father's name was Mark.

 

STEVE (on phone) Got it, Karen. And when would you like to schedule the funeral?

 

WOMAN'S VOICE (on phone) Well, we were thinking about next Saturday.

 

STEVE (on phone) Okay, Saturday. And what time would you like the bacon to be served?

 

WOMAN'S VOICE (on phone, confused) I'm sorry, what? I didn't mention bacon.

 

STEVE (on phone, realizing his mistake) Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you said "when would you like the bacon?" instead of "when would you like the service?" I apologize.

 

WOMAN'S VOICE (on phone, laughing) It's okay, Steve. We don't need bacon at the funeral.

 

Steve writes down the correct information on the paper.

 

STEVE (on phone) Okay, got it. We'll see you next Saturday at 11 am for the service.

 

WOMAN'S VOICE (on phone) Thank you, Steve.

 

Steve hangs up the phone, looking embarrassed.

 

STEVE (to himself) I need to focus. I can't keep mishearing people like that.

 

Just then, a man enters the parlor.

 

MAN (to Steve) Excuse me, I'm here to make arrangements for my wife's funeral.

 

STEVE (to man) Of course, sir. I'm sorry for your loss. What was your wife's name?

 

MAN (to Steve) Her name was Susan.

 

STEVE (to man) Okay, got it. And when would you like to schedule the bacon?

 

MAN (to Steve, confused) I'm sorry, what did you say?

 

Steve realizes his mistake and looks mortified.

 

STEVE (to man) I'm sorry, I meant to say "when would you like to schedule the service?"

 

MAN (to Steve, chuckling) It's okay, Steve. I think I know what you're craving for.

 

Steve looks embarrassed as he writes down the correct information on the paper.

 

STEVE (to himself) This is going to be a long day.

 

FADE OUT.

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17 minutes ago, Renton said:

This stuff, combined with deep fake photos and videos is canny scary.

I know, who the fuck buys 48 crème eggs? 

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1 hour ago, Monkeys Fist said:

Dear ChatMLF

Please produce a video documenting one man’s descent in to madness as a result of being a sunderland football fan and his mam being his sisterwife. 
 

Thinking…

 

Doesn’t he realise a shady cabal of businessmen have diverted all the white ones to Tyneside? 

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9 minutes ago, Alex said:

Doesn’t he realise a shady cabal of businessmen have diverted all the white ones to Tyneside? 

 

I'd like to know what his prize was. 

 

Tbf they are quite rare, only 146 of them so it's pretty remarkable he captured this on video. Out of that 146, 6 are worth £10,000. Dunno about the rest, hopefully he won another box of creme eggs. 

 

Edit: I'm talking about the half white, half milk chocolate special promotional ones. Looking at that video, looks like the sad twat has just planted a white one amongst them, RRP 72 pence? :lol:

 

Edited by Renton
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2 minutes ago, Renton said:

 

I'd like to know what his prize was. 

 

Tbf they are quite rare, only 146 of them so it's pretty remarkable he captured this on video. Out of that 146, 6 are worth £10,000. Dunno about the rest, hopefully he won another box of creme eggs. 

I assumed he hadn’t found one as I only watched about 20 seconds before it started making my teeth itch. 

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1 minute ago, Alex said:

I assumed he hadn’t found one as I only watched about 20 seconds before it started making my teeth itch. 

 

I forwarded to the end like, no way was I watching that beanie freak open up 48 eggs. 

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1 hour ago, Monkeys Fist said:

Dear ChatMLF

Please produce a video documenting one man’s descent in to madness as a result of being a sunderland football fan and his mam being his sisterwife. 
 

Thinking…

 


this bloke is real-life tragedy :lol: 

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2 hours ago, Alex said:

I assumed he hadn’t found one as I only watched about 20 seconds before it started making my teeth itch. 

I got as far as "48 virgin Creme eggs" before I turned the gun on myself

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