wallace
@wallacewilson.bsky.social
I never know what you are talking about so I made a custom GPT to have AI explain you to me (because I know you love AI. Here is what it said about this
August 8, 2025 at 8:24 PM
I never know what you are talking about so I made a custom GPT to have AI explain you to me (because I know you love AI. Here is what it said about this
I tried for like 5 min to find this and can only find part 3 so I give up.
July 14, 2025 at 7:07 PM
I tried for like 5 min to find this and can only find part 3 so I give up.
Just got back from there a few days ago. Meow Wolf was bonkers. We spread my mom’s ashes on North Table Mountain in Golden. Happy to send you the lat/long of where if you would like to pay your respects. Red Rocks is right by a tiny mountain town called Morrison. Good stop for a hike and some food
June 12, 2025 at 12:05 AM
Just got back from there a few days ago. Meow Wolf was bonkers. We spread my mom’s ashes on North Table Mountain in Golden. Happy to send you the lat/long of where if you would like to pay your respects. Red Rocks is right by a tiny mountain town called Morrison. Good stop for a hike and some food
Is that @runningboard7.bsky.social’s house? Is there a Peloton in the driveway?
May 23, 2025 at 12:46 AM
Is that @runningboard7.bsky.social’s house? Is there a Peloton in the driveway?
You two don’t scare me
May 17, 2025 at 2:20 AM
You two don’t scare me
Shut up and talk about Van Halen
May 17, 2025 at 2:15 AM
Shut up and talk about Van Halen
That night, the house filled with smoke.
March 30, 2025 at 2:54 AM
That night, the house filled with smoke.
Two days later, in Topeka, an old couple opened their door to find a burned, bacon-wrapped infant on the porch holding a sign:
“ADOPT ME.”
He cooed, charred fingers clutching a rattle made of bones.
They smiled.
“Harold, look at his little face!”
He is not cute. He is not small.
“ADOPT ME.”
He cooed, charred fingers clutching a rattle made of bones.
They smiled.
“Harold, look at his little face!”
He is not cute. He is not small.
March 30, 2025 at 2:54 AM
Two days later, in Topeka, an old couple opened their door to find a burned, bacon-wrapped infant on the porch holding a sign:
“ADOPT ME.”
He cooed, charred fingers clutching a rattle made of bones.
They smiled.
“Harold, look at his little face!”
He is not cute. He is not small.
“ADOPT ME.”
He cooed, charred fingers clutching a rattle made of bones.
They smiled.
“Harold, look at his little face!”
He is not cute. He is not small.
Later, cops arrived to a house filled with smoke and the scent of barbecue death.
No bodies.
Just a single paper plate on the kitchen table, smeared with sauce:
“Meatbaby was born into fire. You raised me wrong.”
And below that:
“Gone to find a new family.”
No bodies.
Just a single paper plate on the kitchen table, smeared with sauce:
“Meatbaby was born into fire. You raised me wrong.”
And below that:
“Gone to find a new family.”
March 30, 2025 at 2:54 AM
Later, cops arrived to a house filled with smoke and the scent of barbecue death.
No bodies.
Just a single paper plate on the kitchen table, smeared with sauce:
“Meatbaby was born into fire. You raised me wrong.”
And below that:
“Gone to find a new family.”
No bodies.
Just a single paper plate on the kitchen table, smeared with sauce:
“Meatbaby was born into fire. You raised me wrong.”
And below that:
“Gone to find a new family.”
Susan didn’t have time to run.
Meatbaby lunged and hugged her face like a fleshy oven mitt.
She slammed against the wall, clawing at its greasy skin.
“YOU FORGOT MY NAP, MOMMY!”
Then—CRUNCH.
Her skull folded like a tortilla.
Meatbaby lunged and hugged her face like a fleshy oven mitt.
She slammed against the wall, clawing at its greasy skin.
“YOU FORGOT MY NAP, MOMMY!”
Then—CRUNCH.
Her skull folded like a tortilla.
March 30, 2025 at 2:54 AM
Susan didn’t have time to run.
Meatbaby lunged and hugged her face like a fleshy oven mitt.
She slammed against the wall, clawing at its greasy skin.
“YOU FORGOT MY NAP, MOMMY!”
Then—CRUNCH.
Her skull folded like a tortilla.
Meatbaby lunged and hugged her face like a fleshy oven mitt.
She slammed against the wall, clawing at its greasy skin.
“YOU FORGOT MY NAP, MOMMY!”
Then—CRUNCH.
Her skull folded like a tortilla.
She scrambled into the bathroom, locked the door.
Whimpering.
Then silence.
Until she heard a wet dragging sound from the toilet.
A whisper:
“Peekaboo.”
The toilet exploded upward. Meatbaby emerged, grinning with burnt-cheeked fury.
Whimpering.
Then silence.
Until she heard a wet dragging sound from the toilet.
A whisper:
“Peekaboo.”
The toilet exploded upward. Meatbaby emerged, grinning with burnt-cheeked fury.
March 30, 2025 at 2:54 AM
She scrambled into the bathroom, locked the door.
Whimpering.
Then silence.
Until she heard a wet dragging sound from the toilet.
A whisper:
“Peekaboo.”
The toilet exploded upward. Meatbaby emerged, grinning with burnt-cheeked fury.
Whimpering.
Then silence.
Until she heard a wet dragging sound from the toilet.
A whisper:
“Peekaboo.”
The toilet exploded upward. Meatbaby emerged, grinning with burnt-cheeked fury.
Meatbaby stuffed a hot dog finger down Chris’s throat.
Chris gagged, eyes bulging.
Then it kicked him in the chest, and the finger launched through the back of his neck like a gory meat Pez dispenser.
Susan screamed, slipping in blood.
Chris gagged, eyes bulging.
Then it kicked him in the chest, and the finger launched through the back of his neck like a gory meat Pez dispenser.
Susan screamed, slipping in blood.
March 30, 2025 at 2:54 AM
Meatbaby stuffed a hot dog finger down Chris’s throat.
Chris gagged, eyes bulging.
Then it kicked him in the chest, and the finger launched through the back of his neck like a gory meat Pez dispenser.
Susan screamed, slipping in blood.
Chris gagged, eyes bulging.
Then it kicked him in the chest, and the finger launched through the back of his neck like a gory meat Pez dispenser.
Susan screamed, slipping in blood.
Chris tried to run.
Meatbaby slither-hopped across the floor and launched itself like a roast grenade.
Bacon diaper unwrapped in midair.
WHIP-CRACK! It lashed Chris in the eyes, blinding him.
“TIME FOR BURPING, DADDY!”
Meatbaby slither-hopped across the floor and launched itself like a roast grenade.
Bacon diaper unwrapped in midair.
WHIP-CRACK! It lashed Chris in the eyes, blinding him.
“TIME FOR BURPING, DADDY!”
March 30, 2025 at 2:54 AM
Chris tried to run.
Meatbaby slither-hopped across the floor and launched itself like a roast grenade.
Bacon diaper unwrapped in midair.
WHIP-CRACK! It lashed Chris in the eyes, blinding him.
“TIME FOR BURPING, DADDY!”
Meatbaby slither-hopped across the floor and launched itself like a roast grenade.
Bacon diaper unwrapped in midair.
WHIP-CRACK! It lashed Chris in the eyes, blinding him.
“TIME FOR BURPING, DADDY!”
Chris leaned in, chuckling. “Weird.”
Then Meatbaby exploded out of the smoker like a greasy chestburster, hit the ground with a splat, and stood up.
Dripping, sizzling, snarling.
Its sausage eyes rolled red.
“BAD MOMMY. BAD DADDY.”
Then Meatbaby exploded out of the smoker like a greasy chestburster, hit the ground with a splat, and stood up.
Dripping, sizzling, snarling.
Its sausage eyes rolled red.
“BAD MOMMY. BAD DADDY.”
March 30, 2025 at 2:54 AM
Chris leaned in, chuckling. “Weird.”
Then Meatbaby exploded out of the smoker like a greasy chestburster, hit the ground with a splat, and stood up.
Dripping, sizzling, snarling.
Its sausage eyes rolled red.
“BAD MOMMY. BAD DADDY.”
Then Meatbaby exploded out of the smoker like a greasy chestburster, hit the ground with a splat, and stood up.
Dripping, sizzling, snarling.
Its sausage eyes rolled red.
“BAD MOMMY. BAD DADDY.”
They named it Meatbaby.
Took pictures. Laughed their asses off.
By hour three, the smoker groaned.
Smoke turned green. The bacon diaper quivered.
Something shifted inside the meat.
A crackling voice hissed:
“Mommy?”
Took pictures. Laughed their asses off.
By hour three, the smoker groaned.
Smoke turned green. The bacon diaper quivered.
Something shifted inside the meat.
A crackling voice hissed:
“Mommy?”
March 30, 2025 at 2:54 AM
They named it Meatbaby.
Took pictures. Laughed their asses off.
By hour three, the smoker groaned.
Smoke turned green. The bacon diaper quivered.
Something shifted inside the meat.
A crackling voice hissed:
“Mommy?”
Took pictures. Laughed their asses off.
By hour three, the smoker groaned.
Smoke turned green. The bacon diaper quivered.
Something shifted inside the meat.
A crackling voice hissed:
“Mommy?”
Chris Giffin had one too many Coors Lights when the idea hit him like a meat truck: “Let’s make a baby outta ground beef!”
Susan cackled. “With a bacon diaper!”
So they sculpted. Shaped. Seasoned.
Vienna sausages for eyes. Ketchup smile.
And into the smoker it went.
Susan cackled. “With a bacon diaper!”
So they sculpted. Shaped. Seasoned.
Vienna sausages for eyes. Ketchup smile.
And into the smoker it went.
March 30, 2025 at 2:54 AM
Chris Giffin had one too many Coors Lights when the idea hit him like a meat truck: “Let’s make a baby outta ground beef!”
Susan cackled. “With a bacon diaper!”
So they sculpted. Shaped. Seasoned.
Vienna sausages for eyes. Ketchup smile.
And into the smoker it went.
Susan cackled. “With a bacon diaper!”
So they sculpted. Shaped. Seasoned.
Vienna sausages for eyes. Ketchup smile.
And into the smoker it went.
I asked ChatGPT to tell me the story of the night you and @wordofchris.bsky.social made a real meatbaby. Here is what followed.
March 30, 2025 at 2:54 AM
I asked ChatGPT to tell me the story of the night you and @wordofchris.bsky.social made a real meatbaby. Here is what followed.