I'm not ready for stuff to start talking to me and telling me what to do. That's what spouses and friends and acquaintances and random strangers are for.
My Whopper is apparently pissed at me. I didn't even know we were having a disagreement.
My Stylefeeder thinks I'm gay. Probably heard that from my Tivo when it started suggesting all those Bravo shows.
The Garmin lady is giving me that disapproving, resentful tone when she says, "recalculating" and emphasizes the cal syllable. That's code for "Why can't you follow simple instructions for heaven's sake?"
And now my fortune cookie is getting attitude.
At lunch yesterday: Work on improving your exercise routine.
Ow. That hurts. And Chinese food had always been there for me. I thought General Tsao had my back.
Well far be it from me to take advice from faux Chinese desserts. Next time, I'm just going to have Fong slip a diet pill into my Mu Shu Pork.