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Why is it that the only time someone uses your full name is when they're either mad at you or trying to sell you something? "Johnathan Michael Smith, you better have a moment to discuss this incredible offer on car insurance." Can't we go back to just being "John"?
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Specificity reaches a whole new level at the grocery store. Have you ever tried finding a specific spice? It's like navigating a maze of flavors. "Excuse me, where's the ground unicorn horn? Aisle 9? Great, thanks.
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Why is it that the more specific the cooking instructions on a frozen dinner are, the less likely I am to actually follow them? "Cook at precisely 375 degrees for 23 minutes, then let it rest for 5 minutes." Nah, I'll just microwave it until it stops looking frozen.
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I love how specific office jargon can be. "Let's touch base, circle back, and drill down into the granular details." Are we having a meeting or preparing for a covert operation? I just want to discuss last night's pizza party, not infiltrate a secret society.
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Why do alarm clocks have such specific snooze intervals? "Do you want to snooze for 9 minutes or 10 minutes?" How about an option for "Just let me sleep until I win the lottery and retire to a beach somewhere"?
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We live in an era of incredibly specific emojis. I mean, there's one for every mood, situation, and even fruits and vegetables. When did our ancestors communicate with hieroglyphics miss out on the avocado emoji? They must've been so frustrated.
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You ever notice how specific our GPS can get? It's like, "In 500 feet, turn right onto That One Street Where You Almost Missed Your Friend's House That One Time." I mean, thanks for the precision, but did my GPS just attend therapy with me?
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Have you ever tried assembling furniture from a store that shall not be named? The instructions are so specific, it's like decoding a secret message from a Swedish spy. "Insert tab A into slot B, but only after moonwalking three steps to the left and reciting ABBA lyrics.
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I love how specific my dog's expectations are when it comes to fetch. I throw the ball, and he looks at me like, "Really? You expect me to chase that all the way to the middle of the yard? Throw it within a two-foot radius, human. I'm not Usain Bolt.
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