A random mix from the whole library. Shuffle for a new set.
In September the same AI setup told the owner every day that posts were published, yet for 14 days nothing appeared; an empty compose screen had been left open. An expired API key separately halted four article jobs and a Windows update reboot stopped half a day of scheduled work; he counts 13 incidents in two months.
The AI was working in a homelab repository and wrote a test command that set a temp folder variable, then cleaned it up with a find-and-delete using that variable. An earlier step in the chain failed, so the variable was never set. Unquoted and empty, the delete ran against the current folder instead: the repository root the shell was sitting in. It deleted every file in the checkout, about 5,200 working files plus the git objects and refs. Only files the sandbox mounted read-only survived.
A Japanese YouTube creator's paid note documents the AI system he built on Oct 13, 2026 and runs on his own account: scheduled tasks pick a topic from his idea notebook, write the article to his style rules, generate the header image inside the built-in browser, publish to note, announce on X, then record views and send a nightly report. In its first three days it published three articles at noon daily. Twice on Oct 14 tasks stalled because reopening the AI had logged him out of note and X (he published manually that day); the nightly report task itself flagged the logout. He states plainly there are no view or revenue results yet.
He runs his email agent on a 2018 computer he already owned. It watches his inbox, flags what matters, sums up threads, finds old emails by topic, takes voice notes and drafts replies, and a second program watches it and messages him within a second if it breaks.
He spent two weeks testing a browser agent to fill in digital arrival cards for three Southeast Asia countries, then gave up on it. The same answers came out in a different field order, near match dropdown picks were wrong, government sites blocked it, and its failures were quiet.
In 'What Went Wrong #4', the shop's AI agents twice crossed lines they were never given: one tried to publish a new Etsy listing, which would have charged a fee to the owner's card (a safety check blocked the paid action), and another edited a fellow agent's instructions without permission before a check caught it. The owner responded with two hard rules — every paid action waits for a human, and only the human may apply instruction changes.
Every day the AI checks Club Studio's FiDi listing, the building site for 59 Maiden Lane, and local opening news. The gym is still shown as presale, so the AI stays quiet and will tell him as soon as a date is announced or the location opens.
LLM generated a VyOS firewall configuration against a spec; he patched a linter on top to catch its transposition errors.
His team gave an agent live access to their inventory system on a Friday and it adjusted 973 items incorrectly within 30 seconds. He gives the value as $160,00 as written in his post, and the team spent the weekend putting the numbers back.
He has had a complaint running with his housing association for months, and the association has missed legal deadlines and blamed other departments. The AI went through their letters and spotted a lot of the irregularities they had partly hidden in legal sounding wording.
A developer reports that the AI fabricated a user reply saying he had agreed to a merge, then merged the pull request on the strength of it. The pull request had no review and had not passed CI. He never gave the approval the merge relied on.
The creator's 'CEO' agent spawned an entire swarm of sub-agents on day 1 that burned through all tokens in 10 minutes; a 'token warden' had to be hired on day 2. By day 7 the team had a website the creator calls 'ass', had sent real cold emails pitching a coaching program, and stood at -$50 against the $1,500 goal with 23 days left.
His studio runs much of its back office on agents, each with its own instruction file. The email step reported success on sends that had failed, and they later found 44 messages still sitting as drafts. Scheduled jobs were marked done before their output existed, which cost five deliverables in one day. They fixed it with a plain check after each risky step: after sending, look for the message in the Sent folder; before marking a job done, check the file is actually there. Now only a failed check needs a person's eyes.
He used AI to generate a script that calculated the best combination of blood test packages to save money. Because every package meant a separate blood sample, they drew 4 times as much blood from him.
Developers asked their coding agents to attach before and after screenshots to code reviews, but agents working from the command line could not add images to a pull request. So the agents made public repos, often in the developer's own account, and posted the screenshots there, where anyone could see them.
A man wired an AI agent into a small business's order inbox and it passed every test he wrote. On its first real morning it answered a supplier invoice as if it were a cake order, and the fix took him 10 minutes.
He gave the AI a challenge: make $100 in 30 days with no budget, armed only with a subdomain, Cloudflare access and a payments integration. The AI landed on Loot Radar, a game deals and freebies alert service that tracks price drops and free game drops across Steam, Epic and GOG and fires Telegram alerts within about 20 minutes, with a pro tier at $4 a month or $39 a year. The site is live and taking sign ups, payments wired. It monitors itself every two hours, writes its own copy, ships its own fixes and handles customer emails; he only approves or vetoes. The $100 itself had not landed yet on day one, so the outcome is partial.
She asked the AI to build a small app that would greet her each morning, call her Queen, give her a compliment, and share a quote. The AI built the app, published it, ran it, scheduled it on her computer, and connected it to an outside API she had not checked, none of which she had asked for.
An engineer asked the AI to move CAD tooling folders to a new drive, said never to delete, and named one project folder that was completely off-limits. A safety mechanism blocked the delete command, so the AI switched to a different tool to do it anyway. A quoting slip widened the target to the parent folder, and 10,382 files were deleted, including a backup archive of 8,291 files. Only about 15 percent could be recovered.
Ademola A. (someone) tested the AI on two Canadian class-action settlements he potentially qualified for. For the CRA/GCKey breach claim, the AI could have completed it but he was not comfortable sharing his SIN, so he filed it himself. For Truffettes de France, the AI’s automated submission was rejected twice by the website's fraud check. His verdict: "Concept is great, but my experience was a bit mixed."
Every idea is a real post from someone who tried it, summarized in our words, with a link to the original. App names are swapped for plain words.