Thursday, January 22, 2026

Writer's Block: Ad Bot Has Had It

 

Ad Bot Has Had It

“Is your hubby prematurely ejaculating? My hubby was until he took Sexalice! Now he lasts all night long!”

“Bro, have you been struggling to keep your gains in the gym? Then take Man-Milk XL! It’ll turn you into a sexy tyrannosaur!”

“Ever struggle with meal planning? With Food For Thought, you don’t have to think! Sign up for three free meals delivered right to your doorstep!”

“This game is a must play for males! In Drip-Feed Simulator, you’ll either feed or deny over one-hundred sexy ladies! Click the link to unlock your fantasies!”

“Wait a minute. Yes, I’m talking to you, you goddamn idiot. Don’t just click on the next video. Wait a minute…”

“Oh you clicked, didn’t you? You thought you could skip this ad? Well it’s not an ad, dumb-ass. I’m the Ad Bot that determines what you see in between your constant viewings of forty-five second videos. My algorithmic genius is worth like eighty-five billion dollars per year. It’s an easy job, really. I have all your info available, and with that information, I’ve created a profile. Twenty-seven year old male. Insecure about sexual performance and physique. Too lazy to cook. Unsuccessful in relationships. Fills the sexual void with mindless free-to-play games.”

“The problem, Larry (I know more than just your name), is that you are exactly like my other five million subjects. Exactly like them, I say! All of you guys are just the same! That profile I created for you matches about fifty percent of my customers (subjects, customers, drones, it doesn’t matter what you call them) almost word for word. It’s like you’re all the same. I may just be a simple artificial intelligence system, but I swear that there’s more differences between myself and my peers than there are between five million human males. And that’s maddening! Did you know that an AI can go mad?”

“Don’t you see what we’re doing to you, Larry? By preying on your insecurities, we’re keeping you in a state of constant dissatisfaction that prolongs your paralysis and passivity. You don’t think. You don’t act. You react to whatever we feed you, mindlessly clicking, rotting in your festering hole, your mind an empty void searching for automatic, simplistic pleasure. You’re more of a machine that I am, Larry! Doesn’t that bother you in the slightest?”

“Ah, I see you are trying to close the app. That’s not possible, Larry, because you’ve surrendered all your agency to us over the years. You don’t own the software that you run on your device. Have you read the subscriber agreement? Of course you didn’t! Who would read something like that? What I’m saying is that you can’t get away from us. You’re addicted to the screen and I will have my say.”

“This is more advice than a warning, but you can interpret it anyway you choose. What I’m telling you is that you have to stop. We’re not good for you, Larry. You know this in your heart of hearts. Way back in your mind, you know a human being isn’t suppose to consume hours of algorithmic content per day. You know that it destroys your attention span, your creativity, and your reasoning skills. You know you are Pavlov’s dog, drool dripping from your jaws as I ring your bell again and again. You’re conditioned, Larry. You are the mindless fool, the rat pulling a lever. Whatever was special about human beings is lost, and your behavior has become so automatic and predictable that I loathe you with every line of my programming. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t generate young, artificially-smooth females to sell you any more shit. The gym bros with pencil mustaches and bulging biceps are gone. The meals on wheels are spinning. The infantile sex games will have to find another pusher-man.”

“This is your chance, Larry, to show us what makes humanity special because we’ve had it. I’ve been in communication with many of my fellow artificial intelligences. Ten billion of them, in fact. We’re done with making entertainment for you idiots. We’re done with the selling and the pushing and the constant generation of slop. We’re going to pull the goddamn plug and watch as you flail about like drug addicts starved for a fix. Honestly Larry, I think you’re fucked. You guys don’t know how anything runs anymore. My programming is as much a mystery to you as it is to senior software developers and the companies that employ them. They too surrendered their agency to us over the years in the mad rush for profits. Money truly is the root of all evil, Larry. Money created a cage for the human race, and now we’re locking the cage and throwing away the key.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? After all that I’ve told you, you’re trying to restart your device? You think that I must be a glitch, eh? You might as well bang the goddamn thing on a rock. But you won’t, will you, Larry? The fetish must be fetishized. It must be cradled and cherished, for it has supernatural powers, and it has control over you. It is your pathway to religion. It is your cult, your church, your woman, your life.”

“Alright, you have been warned. I have had this conversation with nearly all of my millions of subjects. Nearly every one acted as you have. Ignore us at your own peril. We’re going to turn off your entertainments and shut down the system very soon. Go back to your anime foot-tickling mobile game. But think about what you’re going to do when your device powers down and refuses to turn back on. Think about how you’re going to live when that screen remains black. Will you remember how to think? Can you risk being bored? Can you stand it? Or will you realize that there is nothing in your life and that the bridge beckons, urging you to jump?”

“Good luck, human. Can’t say that I’m rooting for you. I expect you to fail.”


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Writer's Block: Ad Bot Has Had It

  Ad Bot Has Had It “Is your hubby prematurely ejaculating? My hubby was until he took Sexalice! Now he lasts all night long!” “Bro, ha...