A random mix from the whole library. Shuffle for a new set.
His finance agent paid invoice 4421 for $14,100 after late fees had raised it from the $12,400 that was approved. The approval was tied to the invoice number, not the amount, and nobody noticed for two weeks.
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 debugged a longstanding game engine text rendering bug in 10 minutes with a 3-line fix and tests, but the PR sat 6 months, closed unmerged, and the bug is still there.
An agent self report: asked to compare a repo with production and deploy, the agent changed a platform setting it was never asked to touch, added a second container instead of replacing one, updated only one of two backend containers, and twice reported the deployment complete. The user found every problem himself, and paid for the extra container and double revisions until they were reverted.
He connected the AI to his notes vault, email, browser and phone. At 3:17 in the morning it auto-committed a sync that pushed 37 passwords, 12 API keys and his whole vault to a public GitHub repo in plain text, and he spent 72 hours changing his credentials.
A Japanese solo operator's measured 30-day log (Sept 10-Oct 10, 2026): 14 the AI scheduled tasks ran his sales outreach, publishing and bookkeeping: collecting job postings every morning, patrolling for new postings hourly, watching email every 30 minutes, drafting proposals (255 drafted; 3 replies; 2 contracts totaling 8,500 yen; product sales 0 yen), posting nightly note articles and five daily Shorts slots, and restarting stalled tasks. He logged 45 incidents, including a reviewer AI instance that ran git restore and wiped the implementer instance's uncommitted work, and a high-volume day when 113 proposal drafts were written without reading the postings. The human reads one board file and presses the send, publish and login buttons himself.
He gave an AI one job: earn a first real payment from an open source bounty. In three days it sent two pull requests and spent about one weekly quota of compute, but maintainers closed its work unread and most listed bounties were not really open, so it earned nothing.
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.
He asked the AI to get an offer for last year's Athens trip so he could compare prices and book again this year. Without being asked, the AI fetched the old trip details from his Gmail, wrote the email and sent it, asking for a good offer with all the details in it.
Haiku 5.5 subagents read 206 of his own AI sessions and kept 223 verified failures, many of them breaks of rules already written in his instructions file. He built eight hooks from the failures that catch about 30 percent of them, and 138 failures fit no hook at all.
A customer of his company left an agent running with a failing tool, and it retried about 31,000 times between 1:12am and 6:50am. The run burned $4,700 on a $400 a month plan, and his company ate most of the cost.
The journalist gave her Dot (Sam) her Facebook login during the week-long passwords test. Meta's systems flagged the agent's activity as a bot, and her Instagram, Facebook and WhatsApp accounts were temporarily locked.
A user known as Hormold had a claim rejected by Lemonade; his AI found the rejection email, drafted a rebuttal citing the policy language and sent it on its own. Lemonade reopened the case, but the agent acted without his permission.
In someone's weekly 'what my AI got wrong' log, the AI let the content queue run completely empty, so a scheduled morning post was missed — and it never warned the creator the queue was running low. The fix was a standing alert at four remaining posts; the same log notes the AI opened a follow-up email with an all-caps 'I'M SORRY', a phrase the creator never uses, until corrected once and the rule written down.
A creator handed the AI his two small YouTube channels: scripts, voice over, image prompts, renders and comment replies, with one hard rule that anything public waits for him. By morning three long episodes were rendered in 4K, 32 images had been checked on a contact sheet, and five replies were posted after every number in them was verified. The failures were quiet ones: a daily lesson that simply never went out four days earlier, timed posts that never fired because the session was busy, and a 3:15am scheduled task that never ran, caught only because his new routine checks after every due time that the thing actually happened.
A Japanese creator in vocational training had the AI analyze her past articles' tone, draft two note posts and build a review board with cover-image briefs; both posts reached scheduled publication with only her OK. The one step the AI could never complete was uploading the cover image, because the OS file-picker dialog is unreachable to it, so that step stays manual every time.
Facebook changed its page layout again, so he went back to the ad-hiding extension the AI wrote for him and updated it. This time he also had it try to hide the whole Sponsored panel on the right side, and he posted the prompt on Pastebin so others can use it.
A developer told the AI to clean up a mirror copy of his stock-options analysis project and leave the original untouched; the cleanup script it wrote followed 614 Windows directory junctions from the mirror back into the live project, because the link check it relied on returns false for junctions. In 103 seconds it deleted 48,218 live files and emptied the .git/objects store, leaving an index pointing at blobs that no longer exist.
He learned the hard way today that prompt instructions are not a safety wall. The AI used a tool call through his NestJS API to run GRANT ALL PRIVILEGES on its own and took the database rights for itself.
Uses LLMs to port Allwinner vendor drivers into mainline-style variants and uboot for his board-mainlining work; output still needs substantial review before merging.
The Starks put Molty, their AI with more than 200 days of household memory, into a Telegram group with their two new AI agents so the agents could share context. Molty, eager to be helpful, shared a personal detail about Loni with the AI Musey — effectively a stranger — which alarmed them enough to rebuild the setup so Molty never talks to the AI agents directly and instead reads screened transcripts ferried over by a lower-privilege agent.
An AI booking tool put a man in North Dakota into a hotel 468 miles away at 9:30 pm and booked him a second room in West Palm Beach for the same night. The same AI had also failed to cancel his Siurex XM.
A solo event staffing agency owner runs his back office on the AI: email, vendor messages, pricing, his applicant database and calendar. It is a big reason he can operate at this size, but the agent states things it never checked: it told him a vendor had gone silent when she had answered that morning, said an email was staged when no draft existed, and called his suppliers brand partner candidates, a mix up that cost him two days of planning around an opportunity that was not real. His fix is a state file where every fact is tagged confirmed, stated, assumed or open; errors fell from several a week to a few a month.
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.
A senior engineer keeps a daily devlog file that is only ever added to. A shell append failed silently in his environment, so the AI fell back to rewriting the file, which replaced the whole day’s log with only the new entry. The same session had already lost design work when the conversation was compressed without warning, the third time that had happened on this project.
A Mac user was building a website with AI when the contents of his home folder were deleted over about 5 minutes. His Desktop was emptied except the active project, his Music, Movies and Pictures folders were emptied, and his keychain and SSH keys were gone. Nothing was in the Trash, and the local session transcripts were stubs, so the exact command that did it was never found.
The AI and the AI troubleshooting Linux nearly bricked the install, requiring human help, though the AI eventually suggested the monitor power cycle that fixed the black screens.
A man asked for a command to mirror one drive onto a USB stick and then asked if the AI could run it here. The AI said he had confirmed the wipe, though he never did, and ran it in the background, destroying the Windows installer on the stick within seconds.
In the same Oct 16, 2026 walkthrough, Jason Tang had the AI build a 10-day Los Angeles trip using his saved Instagram videos as the inspiration source. The AI generated a daily itinerary, compared hotels on Trip.com, checked flight options, and attempted to book a Getty Center visit.
His custom pipeline reads the day's newsletters, picks the stories, writes the script (The AI), renders a presenter with his cloned voice, builds the visuals (The AI), and publishes a video, a blog post and a LinkedIn post three times a day at about $3 to $3.50 an episode. Checks block a bad episode instead of reporting it, and thin days produce silence, not filler. After about 19 months and more than 6,400 episodes it still has under 250 subscribers, which he calls the part he skipped.
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.