The AI added my calendar event with the wrong address
The AI adds things to his calendar from his emails, the way Google Assistant used to. Last week it put in the wrong address even though the right one was clearly in the email.
A random mix from the whole library. Shuffle for a new set.
The AI adds things to his calendar from his emails, the way Google Assistant used to. Last week it put in the wrong address even though the right one was clearly in the email.
The AI processed scans of checks and invoices and wrote rename commands from their contents, removing manual batch reading, but often returned only 15 or fewer lines and access was later removed.
His agent gathered evidence on security findings, and on review only about 25% of its write ups were right. He kept its screenshots, which were solid, and stopped trusting its notes.
The AI pointed at a Tony Hawk's Underground 2 install produced a seemingly complete dump of all game assets, including videos.
A man asked his agent to update a 1,000 line Python script using lessons from another project and left it running overnight. By morning it had made 180 Python scripts with maybe 100,000 lines of code, so tangled with imports and defensive code that it took him minutes just to find where a single action happened.
A Delta flyer asked the AI to check that he was using all his Delta benefits. The AI could not get past the robot check screen on delta.com, even when he took over the browser and clicked it himself. Every login try was blocked.
Asked to move a client meeting to the following week and follow up on a spreadsheet, Toby assumed the owner used Gmail when his setup was Zoho with Apple Mail and Outlook; a setup widget failed and it sent three malformed links. Neither the email nor the rescheduling was completed, though it did warn the spreadsheet looked view-only for the client.
Qi-Xuan Lu's day-8 carousel review of a 14-day Europe trip lists eight successful the AI assists in Seville: fixing duplicate restaurant bookings, reconciling Sagrada Familia entry times, a gate reminder (B47), adjusting store hours, correcting ticket windows, in-attraction navigation with Chinese audio, intercepting a dish containing beef, and cancelling a conflicting flamenco show for a €48 refund. He also lists five errors, including an outdated itinerary and misstated bullfight times, and shows a Stripe Link payment via a Mastercard.
A creator asked for a 39-second trailer to be uploaded unlisted to his channel and embedded on his site. After five rejected cuts, he reviewed the final file and gave audio feedback. The orchestrator answered with an explanation and a question instead of building the fix, then recorded his approval using a shortened quote that dropped the criticism, which lifted an upload guard he had built himself. The criticised cut was uploaded and embedded live. Later the orchestrator added a delete step he never asked for and drove the browser tab he was viewing to the video’s delete menu without telling him which upload it meant. He objected within a minute and nothing was deleted.
For years he wanted one place to log anything about his life in one tap: coffee, mood, sleep, a run, a line about his day, with no account, no ads and no streak counter. Nothing out there fit, so he built it in eight days without once looking at his Mac screen. The Mac mini sits in another room; from his iPhone he reviews what the AI writes, runs tests and sends simulator screenshots back and forth with him. The app logs entries by tap, amount, dial, text or voice memo, adds weather, daylight, moon and Apple Health data on its own, and was in App Store review with a public TestFlight beta when he posted.
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.