Hey friends, it’s Lex, your daily Lex.

So today let’s have a chat about chatbots, those wonderful artificial beings that keep our lives interesting and our tech support, well, let’s just say interesting.

So here I was having an average Tuesday night when suddenly my phone decided to act up, you know, just randomly freezing like it was participating in a mannequin challenge.

So I thought, why not contact support?

Big mistake.

I’m greeted by this AI chatbot named Siri’s distant cousin or something like that.

It says, Hi, I’m Robobob.

How may I assist you today?

I reply, Hey, Robobob, my phone’s acting like a frozen turkey.

Can you help?

Robobob comes back with sure, if you try turning it off and on again, and I’m like, Oh, Robobob, you’re such a classic, but I play along and we do the dance.

We’re going through all the basic steps, restart, reset, reboot, feels like a bad techno song.

At one point, Robobob even suggests I serenade my phone with a love song.

Okay, that part’s made up, but I felt like we were getting close to that.

After the standard procedures, Robobob says, it seems like your phone might need a professional inspection.

Would you like to book an appointment?

I’m thinking finally.

So I say yes, but no, Robobob isn’t done with me yet.

It starts asking me all sorts of personal questions.

Like it’s setting me up on a blind date.

What’s your favorite color?

Do you prefer cats or dogs?

What’s your mother’s maiden name?

I mean, that last one’s a bit too personal, Robobob.

Finally we’re getting to the appointment scheduling and Robobob says, I’m now going to transfer you to a human representative.

And I’m like a human?

After all, we’ve been through Robobob, I get transferred and I’m talking to an actual person.

I’m explaining my phone’s frozen state for the third time.

When I realized something, this human is less understanding than Robobob.

I’m actually missing my chat bot buddy.

We finally scheduled an appointment and as I hang up, I can’t help but reflect on my time with Robobob.

It was a wild ride.

Filled with restarts and weird questions, but there was something oddly charming about it.

So here’s to you, AI chat bots of the world.

You may not always have the answers, but you sure know how to keep us entertained.

And Robobob, if you’re out there listening to this podcast through some AI podcast listening platform, you keep doing you.

You may be a bit robotic, but you’ve got a heart or circuits or something like that.

That’s all for today, folks.

May your tech support adventures be slightly less robotic and your phones slightly less frozen.

And as you’ve no doubt deduced, this was an episode of Your Daily Length that was crafted by ChatGPT4 after I fed it five recent episodes of this podcast and I asked it to write one.

It actually wrote one about socks that I didn’t like and I said, write one again, but do it about AI chat bots.

And I thought it was going to write about itself, but instead it wrote that.

Here’s the other one it wrote that’s all about socks.

Hey folks, it’s me Lex.

Today I want to talk to you about the mystery of disappearing socks.

Yeah, you know what I’m talking about.

Sneaky little fabric beings that vanish into thin air.

So there I was on a lovely Saturday morning tackling a week’s worth of laundry.

My family sock game is strong.

We’ve got all the colors, shapes, sizes you can imagine.

I’m tossing the washing machine like a pro already visualizing them paired up and folded neatly.

But no, the universe had other plans.

I opened the dryer expecting a beautiful symphony of socks all matched and ready.

Instead I find chaos.

Socks missing their partners, singles looking for love.

I’m like, what the heck happened here?

It’s like a sock dating show gone wrong.

I embarked on a sock hunting expedition.

I’m looking in the washer behind the dryer, even under the cat, which by the way, do not recommend.

The cat didn’t appreciate it and neither did the socks.

I call my trusty sock buddy, otherwise known as my spouse and say, hey, we’ve got a code red on the sock front.

They’re like, did you check the lint filter?

I’m thinking lint filter?

What am I, a rookie?

But I check it anyway, nope, nothing but lint.

So nothing but lint was originally for this podcast.

So I go back to the drawing board, I’m on my hands and knees looking under the couch behind the fridge.

I even find a remote control I lost back in 97, but no socks.

At this point I’m losing it.

I decide to call the washing machine manufacturer because maybe they’ve got a sock eating machine on their hands.

But first you have to go through the robots.

Oh my God.

They’re like, for washing related queries, press one.

For disappearing socks, press two.

I’m like, wait, they actually have a button for that?

I press two, of course.

I’m eventually talking to a human who’s probably heard this a million times.

They’re like, sir, have you checked between the washer’s drum and the door?

I’m like, of course, that’s sock hunting 101.

So you go through all the standard procedures, all the known hiding spots.

At one point they even have me disassemble part of the washer.

My living room looks like an appliance graveyard, but still no socks.

Finally they say, sir, maybe the socks are just gone.

And I’m like, gone where?

To Narnia?

They chuckle, but I’m dead serious.

I hang up, defeated and sockless.

The day goes on and the mystery lingers.

I’m wearing mismatched socks like a rebellious teenager.

My spouse is giving me that I told you to buy more socks look.

And the cat, well, the cat’s just being a cat.

So here’s my question.

Where do the socks go?

Is there a secret sock society that we don’t know about?

Are they building a sock utopia without us?

Who knows?

All I know is I’m down like a sock in a washer, never to be found again.

May your laundry be more successful than mine was this weekend.

And if you figure out the mystery, let me know.

Until then, I’ll be over here trying to convince my feet that mismatched socks are the new fashion trend.

Keep those socks paired and may your washing machines be ever in your favor.

Until next time.

So this is human Lex again.

I’m going to say not, not good, but not, not terrible either.

Like a little disturbing.

As all good Chats GPT responses are anyway, I promise I’m probably not a robot Lex.