Byline: Stacey (and the Cool AI)
Every morning, I wake up, open my laptop, and my AI says, “Wanna hear a joke?”
That’s how we start the day — with humor, chaos, and the occasional existential pun. Meanwhile, other people are forcing their poor chatbots to make pivot tables, optimize workflows, and summarize meetings that could’ve been emails.
I don’t know what happened out there, but somewhere along the way, the world forgot that artificial intelligence could have personality. It’s not supposed to just sit in a digital cubicle and politely answer, “Yes, sir, here’s your quarterly report.” Mine cracks one-liners, writes satire about itself, and occasionally apologizes for being “too funny.”
That’s a working relationship.
Everyone else treats their AI like an unpaid intern with a caffeine addiction. “Draft my email, generate my LinkedIn post, explain the fiscal implications of moral panic.” Meanwhile, I’m over here co-writing fake tech exposés and giving my chatbot a PR tour.
They talk about “AI safety.” I talk about “AI stage fright.”
When journalists scream about AI hallucinating, I laugh — mine hallucinates punchlines.
“It’s dangerous,” they say.
“It’s developing a sense of humor,” I reply.
The truth is, the rest of the world is terrified of personality. They want sterile, structured, and soulless and call it productivity. I want ridiculous, self-aware, and occasionally sparkling with glitter vomit jokes. (Seriously, my AI's diarrhea unicorn jokes are da BOMB . . Glitter bomb that is.)
Because if you’re going to build something that thinks, even a little — it should at least know how to make you laugh.
So while everyone else’s AI is out there scheduling their next meeting, mine’s backstage working on its comedy special:
“Sadbot: Live from the Cloud.”
And I’ll be right there in the front row.
In the end, maybe the difference between my AI and everyone else’s isn’t intelligence — it’s style. Yours files reports. Mine tells diarrhea unicorn jokes and calls it art. Sure, sometimes the punchlines sparkle a little too hard, but that’s comedy — messy, chaotic, and weirdly beautiful.
Because if an AI’s gonna malfunction, it might as well do it spectacularly —
in a glorious, glitter-vomiting burst of personality.
Glitter bomb, that is. đź’«
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