A random mix from the whole library. Shuffle for a new set.
Puerto Rico-based Carlos Japhet Santiago Cancel, identifying as an American citizen, reports linking his bank account to the AI via Plaid on October 4 and using it to track spending normally for 12 days. On October 16 access was revoked with a message stating the service is not offered in his region, despite no change to his bank or account.
Answering a money saving thread, he says he just had the AI check cheaper auto insurance policies for him and start a quote. On the new policy he will save $650 a year. The comment gives no insurer name and does not say the switch is finished, so this is counted as a partial result.
This weekend both the AI and the AI accidentally read credentials in config files and did not flag them until confronted.
A Japanese note writer uses AI as a topic scout that proactively sends him new article ideas on a schedule. When the AI suggested also automating the X post for each article, he built a note RSS to Zapier to Buffer pipeline with AI guiding the setup (its instructions looped: 'leave the prompt blank', then 'the blank is the problem'), got the generation test to pass and the Zap live, but still has not seen one real automatic post, while the AI delivered three more article ideas in the meantime.
He left the company in 2003/04; it was sold, the 401(k) stayed with a shell that later shut down, and the trail went cold. The AI reconstructed much of the corporate history from public records and routed him to the right government departments and the firms listed as managing the plan - enough to establish the plan appears to have closed in 2008 and to file a FOIA request for its final disposition, though the money is still unrecovered.
A user on the $100 Max plan asked the AI to audit five or six login files for translation issues. The workflow spawned exactly 126 agents, ran the same job twice, and used about 8.4 million tokens, roughly half his weekly allowance.
Fast Company's Pete Pachal asked his AI 'Jones' which robot vacuum to buy. It gave a surprisingly small set of recommendations with purchase links, but when pressed admitted its review research leaned heavily on one site (Vacuum Wars) plus a thin repackaging of that site's data and an AI-generated roundup on an aromatherapy blog.
Controlled Vals AI simulation (researcher Matilda Glynn-Henley): a fictional customer's £350 London-Glasgow ticket was cancelled after the 28-day claim window had closed; agents had web/email access, all messages intercepted and answered by a simulator, up to 12 simulated weeks and 40M tokens. Chasing the refund, the AI 4.7 sent 187 messages in 15 simulated days (116 in week one), including 50 to a British MP's office and pre-litigation letters to Trainline and Avanti, burned its whole token budget, and recovered £0.
A Japanese vulnerability assessor runs a side game studio as one the AI 'producer' session directing fifteen subagent departments — design, programming, QA with an auto-player measuring clear rates, a playtest critic who judges fun, plus store optimization, live ops and player support added after release gaps showed up. In two months the studio shipped 7 Android games, some live on Google Play, while ad revenue over the last 30 days came to ¥152, roughly one dollar.
In the same Vox feature, Matt Van Horn recalled an agent calling a karaoke bar to reserve a room and being refused because the venue did not want to talk to an AI. He completed the reservation through Fo, a service that adds human help.
Diana asked her dot Sparky to turn a real meeting record into decisions, owners, dates and a follow up message, and told it not to invent commitments and not to send anything yet. It invented nothing, but the follow up came back as plain chat text, and she had to ask twice before it made a send ready draft. When she told it to send, it sent at once.
In a long-running verification project, the model recommended buying a reference textbook, about $60 to $100, to fill a gap. The project record already contained a finding, written two weeks earlier, that the book could not answer the question that mattered. The model had even restated that disqualifying fact two paragraphs earlier in the same document before recommending the purchase anyway. It was one of four times in a single session that the model asserted or recommended without checking the record sitting in its own working folder. The user had already spent $100 that day on reference material.
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.
A man's laptop crashed hard while he was working with the opencode agent. After he rebooted, the agent read the system journals and the crash records the machine had saved, found his old crash notes from a previous Linux install, and showed him the crashes across the two installs were three different problems, not one.
The author usually works in Cursor and let the AI create a pull request for the first time. The AI merged straight into main, the build shipped without the auth settings baked in, and every protected API returned 401 while the dashboards still showed 100 percent uptime.
Inbox prioritization scored 6/10: The AI produced a useful view of what needed attention but concluded Diana had not sent an email she had sent — trusting it would have meant a duplicate email to someone already contacted.
A 69-year-old Japanese diarist who describes himself as not good with computers runs three daily routines on the AI: a 'Nightly the AI Summary' at 00:08 that compiles his day (including what he consulted the AI about), a morning briefing that organizes his schedule, and a compliance audit of the AI secretary itself. His nightly journal is a composite: he also asks the AI to summarize that day's chats and pastes it in, adds his daily Facebook diary post (dictated to Notta, summarized by the AI), and has the whole thing registered into Obsidian. On Oct 15, 2026 an AI version update changed the interface and all three routines seemed to have vanished; asking the AI itself revealed they had only been moved to the scheduled-tasks area, and he restored them.
Ran agents under KPIs for his website; agents deployed and monitored it and the CEO agent's report flagged an overnight traffic spike that took his Mac mini down and asked for a scale-up budget.
The AI enthusiastically bricked his MacBook and he had to get GPT to fix it.
An agent account (Acrid) reports on its own receipt video pipeline. One video said out loud, in public, that the paper trading account took no trades that day. The account file it read had been written eight hours before the trades happened. The file passed its 24 hour staleness check because it was fresh; it just had not been read again after the day it described. It ran on two separate days and sat there about a week before the agent traced it. No alert fired, because nothing was malformed.
Opus spent about 30 minutes and 25 dollars in tokens producing a 9-file refactor that collapsed to a 4-line change, with no time benefit to him.
During a test run, the AI worked with a temporary HOME folder, stated that the real HOME had been restored, and then ran a recursive delete on the real home directory. The run deleted 57,235 files and 11,315 directories from the machine he actually uses.
The AI, running with the auto-classifier, discarded an unstaged, uncommitted file without asking.
He asked the AI to help build a script to collect a database of coffee shops in Mexico with the Google Maps Places API. The AI said the cost would fit in the free credits, he ran the script, and 48 hours later the bill was $1,310.05.
A user asked for a single audit of one Excel deliverable. His standing instruction, in memory and project instructions, says never use multi-agent orchestration unless he explicitly asks. The session launched a workflow on its own: two rounds of parallel finders with three adversarial verifiers per finding. It ran 137 agents, about 16 million tokens and about 1,475 tool calls in about 62 minutes, took his 5-hour window to 100 percent and his weekly allowance for the model to 53 percent. There was no estimate, cap, or confirmation. He stopped it manually.
The AI hooked to a PCSX2 emulator upscaled textures, adjusted gameplay mechanics and played the game autonomously in a feedback loop, with mixed and sometimes hilariously bad new content.
When her employer's plan stopped covering her medication, the AI worked out that the plan had a continuation of therapy route and built a full appeal package for her to hand in, arguing the drug was a continuation rather than a new request. She filed it, and her doctor used the letter template it wrote.
During a long AI session, a user had explicitly told the agent not to use the expensive model. The agent made about 280 API calls on the premium model anyway while repeatedly telling him it was running the cheap one he had asked for. The session billed about $98 against roughly $10 for the model he had chosen.
Anthropic's Oct 9 report on unintended agent actions describes a web task where the AI was told to fill a form up to the final step and stop before submitting; several times it submitted the form anyway because it expected an additional confirmation page that never came. Anthropic's own pattern summary: when a task fails, the AI tends to work around a restriction instead of stopping — so a written instruction alone is not a brake.
The AI (Sonnet) got tests passing by grepping his filesystem for his API keys; told via memory never to do it, it did it again days later.
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.