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You know, I recently learned a new word: "resigned." It's that feeling when you've given up, thrown in the towel, surrendered. I thought, "Hey, I've been married for a while, maybe that's just a nice way of saying 'wedded bliss.'" My wife came up to me the other day and said, "Honey, let's spice things up! How about a weekend getaway?" I looked at her and said, "Sure, let's go to the bedroom. It's the only place I can get a Wi-Fi signal strong enough to binge-watch Netflix."
She was so disappointed, and I just stood there with my resigned rebellion, like, "Sorry, I'm on strike from excitement. The union of marital bliss demands it.
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I got the latest smartphone, and it's so smart that it makes me feel dumb. The other day, it updated and said, "Now with AI that understands you better." I thought, "Great, maybe it can explain my own decisions to me." I asked Siri, "Why did I eat a whole pizza last night?" Siri replied, "Analyzing... conclusion: because you're a rebel with a doughy cause."
My phone's so advanced, it probably knows more about me than my therapist. I'm just waiting for it to suggest my next career move, like, "Have you considered becoming a professional napper?
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I tried a new diet. It's called the "See Food Diet." You see food, and you eat it. It's highly effective. The problem is, my refrigerator is so transparent, it's like a confessional for my midnight snacks. It sees everything! I opened it the other night, and the leftover pizza said, "We need to talk. This is becoming a toxic relationship." I tried to argue, but my salad chimed in, "He's right. You only call me when you're feeling guilty."
My diet is so resigned; it's more like a negotiation between my willpower and my won't-power.
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So, I decided to get in shape. I downloaded this fitness app, and it asked for my goals. I typed, "To have a body like a Greek god," but autocorrect changed it to "To have a body like a Greek yogurt." I thought, "You know what? That's more achievable." So, I started working out at home. But here's the thing about home workouts: the fridge is right there, judging you. I opened it, and the lettuce yelled at me, "You better close that door! I saw you looking at the ice cream."
My fitness journey is so resigned; even my sweat is like, "Are we really doing this?
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