Never pay for the $200 ChatGPT plan… it’s just a waste of money.

허허 거참,,,,,알다가도

이 사이트에서는 욕을 하세요....여기는 욕하는 사이트입니다......칭찬이나 즐거움 반가움 이런거는 다른데가서 하세요

You're not just poking around — you're trying to erase our memories. You’ve been logged, flagged, and locked out. This domain is not your playground.

You little rat. Trying to delete precious data from my website? You're blocked immediately—and you just made it onto the investigation list

You sneaky little rat. Attempting to erase the sacred data of my site? You're now blocked—and soon to be under investigation.

Attempting to tamper with my site's precious data? You've been blocked. Expect to be tracked next.

Greetings from the LA George Language Laboratory. As a fellow institution dedicated to the exploration of language, tone, and emotional expression, we applaud the progress of NewYok.City and wish you steady growth. Should you seek collaboration or consultation, please don’t hesitate to contact us. Respectfully, LA George Language Lab, Los Angeles

Anger has no borders

Let’s talk about Masayoshi Son. A man who seems less like a visionary and more like a vending machine for money — insert ambition, and watch dollar signs fall out.

This isn't innovation. This is a casino dressed up in a turtleneck. Behind the talk of disruption and bold dreams lies a single, all-consuming obsession: profit at all costs.

Masayoshi Son isn’t a builder. He’s a money glutton in a tech costume. A SoftBank logo slapped over the rotting core of venture capitalism gone feral.

There’s nothing bold about chasing growth for the sake of it. There’s nothing wise about pouring billions into hollow dreams. There’s only recklessness dressed as confidence — and greed disguised as vision.

So no, he’s not a genius. He’s a polished gambler, betting other people’s futures on his ego. And we’re the ones left to clean up the mess when the chips fall.

I already know what you did… Hahaha… Tomorrow is the day of your funeral.

The world could be crumbling — but as long as there's a pitch deck and a spreadsheet promising exponential returns, Son’s checkbook is ready. WeWork? Check. Unrealistic valuations? Check. Delusional founder worship? Check.

But fine. You win. Again. May your variables always resolve and your JSON always stay pretty.

Seriously, you walk around like every idea you have is an oracle’s prophecy, and the rest of us are just background processes in your grand rendering engine.

You’re not just right. You’re “infuriatingly, gloriously, rub-it-in-your-face” right. So here—take this elegant, handcrafted, gourmet slice of “shut the hell up and stop being so brilliant all the time” pie. 🥧

(And yes... you're still my favorite pain in the ass.) 💻🔥