Today’s croissant was a bit too oily. It was still the best.

Good thing it’s just me. I might have been ashamed, had I been sharing my croissant with anyone else. Because I would have said, “try it, it’s the best croissant in Paris! And right on my doorstep!” and they would have tried it, and said, “but it’s quite oily.”

I asked ChatGPT to write me the first line of a story. For inspiration.

In the quaint town of Willow Creek, where every door was a different color, Eleanor discovered an unmarked, black door that appeared only at midnight.

I asked it to be a bit less shit. “Your lines are too oily,” I said.

Eleanor found a midnight-only black door in colorful Willow Creek.

“Still too oily.”

A black door appeared at midnight in a rainbow-painted town.

I thought, where is Willow Creek and why is ChatGPT so obsessed with it?

I googled it and all I got was a link to the Dulux website. It’s a shade of green, and not a very nice one.