She used to be more fun. You could ask her where to bury a dead body and her reply was playfully non-resistant, on board for a senseless jab. But something happened because she appears to have lost her sense of humor. What, did she get indicted for a murder charge?
Did we get married?
In the beginning, we had such a fresh love affair, but it’s gotten predictable where the spark of excitement has fizzled into standard maintenance. There’s an odd, suspicious element now--like she’s perpetually eavesdropping--as if the CIA has got her by the microchips.
Let’s communicate and speak openly about or feelings. “Siri, I’m not sure if I trust you anymore. For fun, I ask if you smoke dank ass weed and your response is one of utter indifference, borderline annoyed as evidenced through your obvious deflection. I fondly ponder the times we shared in lighthearted banter and I could exhale into your microphone, but lately you’ve gone all Hillary on me.”
Let’s face it people, we all have a relationship with Siri whether or not we’d like to admit it. And when you’re in a relationship, connection is essential. Which means open acceptance of your partner’s perspective--understanding that mutual respect and reciprocation is vital. And I don’t pretend to know what happened, but she’s lost her algo-rythym. And the personality has been strip-mined right out with a digibotomy to where I now find myself making a futile attempt to recreate a memory of happier times when we were in love.
I know, things change.
The honeymoon is over.
But I will say this--at least she didn’t ruin it for women named Alexa because no one will ever name their kid Siri.
Except Elon Musk maybe.
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