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Ladies and gentlemen, have you ever noticed how we're living in the age of constant alerts? I mean, my phone is like an overprotective mother on steroids. It's always like, "Alert! You haven't walked enough today! Alert! Your battery is below 20%! Alert! You just got an alert!" I'm like, "Chill, phone! I don't need to be constantly reminded that I'm alive and have responsibilities." And what's with those emergency alerts on TV? They're so dramatic. It's like the world is ending every time they pop up. I was watching a cooking show, trying to learn how to make a soufflé, and suddenly, "This is a test of the emergency alert system." I'm standing there with eggs and flour, thinking, "Is my soufflé about to explode? Should I duck and cover?"
I'm just waiting for the day when I get a personalized alert: "Alert! You forgot to call your mom. She's disappointed." Now that would be a wake-up call.
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Can we talk about notifications for a moment? I swear, my phone thinks it's running for president with all those notifications campaigning for my attention. It's like a popularity contest, but instead of votes, it's all about who can buzz the most. And don't get me started on those app notifications. "Your friend just posted a photo." Great, I'll check it in my own time. "It's been a while since you opened the app." Oh, sorry, I didn't realize I had to keep the app's feelings in mind. I don't need this kind of guilt trip from my phone.
My favorite is when I get a notification to remind me about a notification I ignored earlier. It's like my phone has a built-in passive-aggressive feature. "Hey, remember that message you didn't reply to? Yeah, it's still here, waiting for you to be a responsible adult.
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Can we acknowledge how overbearing technology has become? My smartwatch is like a needy ex. It's constantly like, "Time to stand up!" I'm sitting there watching a movie, and suddenly my wrist is like, "Get off that couch, lazy bones!" I'm like, "Excuse me, I paid good money for this couch-potato lifestyle. Let me enjoy it in peace." And then there's predictive texting. My phone thinks it's a psychic. I type "I" and it suggests "love you." I appreciate the enthusiasm, but calm down, phone. I'm just trying to say I'll be there in five minutes, not propose marriage. Let's keep it casual.
I'm just waiting for the day when my fridge starts sending me passive-aggressive notes like, "Hey, I noticed you've been avoiding the vegetables. You know I can see what you're grabbing, right?
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You know what's weird? Phantom vibrations. Yeah, those moments when you think your phone is vibrating in your pocket, but then you check, and there's nothing. It's like my phone is playing mind games with me. I'm walking down the street, feeling popular because I think people are texting me, and then I pull out my phone, and it's just my imagination. I'm convinced my phone has a sense of humor. It's probably sitting there, thinking, "Let's mess with their heads a bit." I'm in a serious meeting, and suddenly, I'm doing the pocket dance because I'm convinced my phone is going off. Spoiler alert: It's not. It's just my imagination, and now my colleagues think I've got ants in my pants.
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