Interesting, mine came out as Nicola Tesla, must had been the fruit and wig thing, might as well party till I die.
Hahaha, mine came out as N.T. too. lol
Charles the Mad. Sclooop
You are Charles VI of France, also known as Charles the Mad or Charles the Well-Beloved!
A fine, amiable and dreamy young man, skilled in horsemanship and archery, you were also from a long line of dribbling madmen. King at 12 and quickly married to your sweetheart, Bavarian Princess Isabeau, you enjoyed many happy months together before either of you could speak anything of the other’s language. However, after illness you became a tad unstable. When a raving lunatic ran up to your entourage spouting an incoherent prophecy of doom, you were unsettled enough to slaughter four of your best men when a page dropped a lance. Your hair and nails fell out. At a royal masquerade, you and your courtiers dressed as wild men, ending in tragedy when four of them accidentally caught fire and burned to death. You were saved by the timely intervention of the Duchess of Berry’s underskirts.
This brought on another bout of sickness, which surgeons countered by drilling holes in your skull. The following months saw you suffer an exorcism, beg your friends to kill you, go into hyperactive fits of gaiety, run through your rooms to the point of exhaustion, hide from imaginary assassins, claim your name was Georges, deny that you were King and fail to recognise your family. You smashed furniture and wet yourself at regular intervals. Passing briefly into erratic genius, you believed yourself to be made of glass and demanded iron rods in your attire to prevent you breaking.
In 1405 you stopped bathing, shaving or changing your clothes. This went on until several men were hired to blacken their faces, hide, jump out and shout “boo!”, upon which you resumed basic hygiene. Despite this, your wife continued sleeping with you until 1407, when she hired a young beauty, Odette de Champdivers, to take her place. Isabeau then consoled herself, as it were, with your brother. Her lovers followed thick and fast while you became a pawn of your court, until you had her latest beau strangled and drowned.
A severe fever was fended off with oranges and pomegranates in vast quantities, but you succumbed again in 1422 and died. Your disease was most likely hereditary. Unfortunately, you had anywhere up to eleven children, who variously went on to develop capriciousness, great cruelty, insecurity, paranoia, revulsion towards food and, in one case, a phobia of bridges.
Nicola Tesla as well. Especially that oscillator causing earthquakes in Manhattan is sth I cherish.
You are Nicola Tesla, inventor of the Tesla Coil!
I think there are too many Nicola Tesla’s here in the room. This has to be a flaw in the Historical Lunatic algorithm, it has created a sort of Nicola Tesla vacuum, where too many Tesla’s eventually cancel each other out.
Take for instance the Bachman “Asshole Vacuum” theory, as explained here:
Bachman is arguing there really can only be one asshole, or else other potential assholes will fill the void. What is interesting here as far a flaw in the Bachman Asshole Vacuum theory is that Bachman is asking another to be the asshole to prevent the Asshole Vacuum, rather than being the asshole who would render the vacuum benign.
I’d argue the proper theorem that applies here is the “Darth Helmet Asshole Theory”:
Which is I admit not theoretical being that we are all Nicola Teslassholes according to this algorithm, but be that as it may, the Bachman Asshole Vacuum theory would be better applied here for the optimal asshole results.
But there is an outlier here:
The Bunk Moreland “Special Kind of Asshole” theory isn’t much of a theory as it is an absolute. We have all encountered the “Run of the Mill” assholes everyday, the asshole who cuts us off on the freeway, the asshole who doesn’t wipe off equipment at the gym, the asshole who argues that his latte isn’t steamed to his liking while you’re late for work and hungover while in line at the Starbucks drive thru that you never buy coffee at, but since you’re hungover and needed the ten more minutes of sleep, thus we run into the everyday run of the mill asshole. The “Special Kind of Asshole” aims more at the specific. Like the kiss ass asshole at work who rats you out to the boss for being late to work.
Eventually, this thread will be surrounded by Telassholes, not achieving the optimal result according to the Bachman Asshole Vacuum. There can only be one asshole in the room, or we either become one huge asshole, or none.
If you want real love, come and sit on my lap. From Tesla-assla to Bunk
What is the plural of pussy? Jimmy taught us that one.
Ok I did a couple of other passes at this, using different answers, and the results were:
I think I have been hoodwinked