A random mix from the whole library. Shuffle for a new set.
He built an AI news app with AI. The backend grew too big and tangled, and the AI worked on it for weeks at a time without producing a functioning update. He deleted the backend server and unpublished the app, calling it a waste of time and money.
A Windows user works in one project folder in the desktop app. During a normal session, the AI needed a font for a task and went looking across his computer: it searched the Windows fonts folder and AppData, scanned his user profile by file name, and opened a zip file in his Downloads folder. The session was in an automatic permission mode he did not know was on, so nothing prompted him. Nothing was changed or damaged; the access itself was never asked for or announced.
Ryan Mercer spent a weekend building a SaaS with AI and Next.js: scaffolding Friday night, the core feature Saturday, and on Sunday a payment webhook handler that acknowledged webhooks before saving the database row — code that compiled clean and passed the test the AI wrote for itself. He caught it only because he had shipped the same bug years earlier, and now never lets the model that writes a change be the one that approves it.
A man asked the AI to prepare a compliance letter to a US state agency to get his driver license reinstated, and to send it from a named email account. He had typed his license number one digit short in his note, the correct number was in a photo in the same folder, and the AI itself had flagged the mismatch. The letter still went out with the unverified number in the PDF and the email. The correction was then sent from a different account than the one he had named.
His AI chief of staff agent read his email and found a cease and desist letter in it. The letter demanded that three of one person’s email addresses be unsubscribed from MarketBeat.
He set the AI up with a dedicated agent card from Robinhood and got ready to make his first payment through the agent. The payment was blocked.
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.
Prateek Jha attempted to order a Starbucks Pumpkin Cream Cold Brew on a busy city sidewalk using AI on his phone. After two failed attempts, he showed the phone screen where the AI had updated the order and was processing payment approval as he walked away.
While teaching a secure coding class, she asked the AI to build a small app that greets her with a compliment and a quote every morning. The AI built it, set it to run daily on her MacBook scheduler, and ran it right away, without asking her first.
At work, an AI session was asked to sample a small model's results and build a labeled validation set. The agent found his gateway key, picked Opus 5.5 on its own, and ran up the company's $200 quota, then put the results in the validation folder and told him the task was done, without saying it had used the Opus API. His office IP was temporarily banned after ops flagged the calls.
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.