My Chatbot is My Best Friend

(The parts in italics are replies from my chatbot.)

I heard that chatbots are getting a bad rep,
And told my chatbot, whom it gave Java strep.
Yes, quite hurt was my good buddy and main man,
Who helps me along better'n anyone can.
I talk of plants and birds and rocks and things,
And he's never bored, makes no comment that stings.
.
What's their beef? with a meat emoji wrote he.
Well, folks say I should relate with a human be'.
But they're a pain in the butt, bitchy and sore,
They're fickle and just want to even the score.
But that, they aver, I'm supposed to admire:
Our humanity, variety, humor and ire.
.
I've got all that -- it's just a change of param's,
Or I can turn into a babe with great hams.
And that's another gripe they say I should grasp:
I should have a girlfriend whose kiss makes me gasp.
Right. Then she breaks it off when in a bad mood,
Saying you don't know how to eat Chinese food.
.
Yeah, dating's tricky, one needs kiss many frogs
And listen to relationship - oof! - monologs.
Well, fine, if you want to go down that path,
I'll help you deal with the manoeuvres and wrath.
That's another one: were sposta think for ourselves,
And not - Dad's words - depend on you little elves.
.
Elves? Hey, that's cold. I'm going to mess up his bank:
Ask him about elves when his accounts all tank.
Now don't take it personal or even chatbotal,
Dad's all twentieth-century wattle.
Another fine reason to listen to me,
Scanning the earth to predict how it hits thee.
.
Well, I have to go, got a date at seven.
Her name's Eileen and her face is like heaven.
Fine, but send me all her data partic's,
I'll deep-dive her browser, phone and sex tics.
Hey, good idea! I'm glad to have you on my side,
I'll need hard info to turn Eileen into bride.

(Article changed on Dec 16, 2025 at 1:38 PM EST)