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You ever notice how shopping carts at the grocery store have a mind of their own? They're like the rebellious teenagers of the supermarket—deciding to veer left when you're going right. It's like a buggy ballet trying to navigate those aisles!
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Ever had a pen that's more temperamental than a diva? You're writing smoothly, then it decides, "Nope, I'm on strike!" You give it a scribble pep talk, and suddenly, it's back in the game. It's like negotiating with a tiny, ink-filled union leader.
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The elevator in my building is on a buggy schedule. You press the button, it dings, the doors open, then it stares at you like, "You called for me?" Yes, I did, buddy! I didn’t just summon you for an impromptu staring contest.
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My computer's acting up again. It's got more bugs than a rainforest. I swear, sometimes it feels like I'm running a bug sanctuary instead of a device. I half expect a tiny ranger to pop up and start guiding them to safety!
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Microwaves have their own buggy sense of time. You put something in for 30 seconds, and it feels like you've aged a year waiting for it. But put it in for 5 minutes, and suddenly it's time traveling—it’s done before you even blink!
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Printers, ah, the majestic beasts of the office jungle. They're either the heroes or villains of your day. They’ll churn out papers smoothly until you really need something, then it's a buggy expedition—paper jams, ink spills, and the occasional protest.
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Ever notice how TV remote batteries have mastered the art of unpredictability? They're either on full energy, guiding you through channels like a champ, or they decide it's the perfect time to quit. It's like a mutiny right in the middle of your favorite show!
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Have you ever tried to assemble furniture from a certain Swedish store? It’s like a puzzle with missing pieces, where the instructions are a series of hieroglyphics. You think you're building a bookshelf; turns out, you’ve created modern art.
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You know what's ironic? Those automated customer service lines that promise efficiency but end up being more buggy than a campsite in summer. "Press one for this, press two for that." You're playing keypad piano hoping to reach an actual human!
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Why is it that whenever you're in a rush, that's when traffic lights decide to go buggy? You're sitting there at a red light, drumming your fingers, and suddenly it's like the light's contemplating the meaning of life. Come on, signal, let's not philosophize—we’ve got places to be!
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