Generate a Stand-Up Routine

(Walks confidently to the microphone, adjusts it, looks around)

Alright, alright, settle down, you beautiful bunch of… mostly clothed individuals. It’s good to be here. It’s… tolerable to be anywhere, really, at my age. I've reached that point where my back goes out more than I do.

I've been thinking a lot about technology lately. Specifically, how terrifying it is. Like, we’re all walking around with these little rectangles of doom in our pockets. They know everything about us! My phone knows I looked up “symptoms of existential dread” at 3 AM three nights in a row. And you know what it suggested? More cat videos. Thanks, algorithm, that’s exactly what I needed to spiral further.

And don't even get me started on smart homes. My friend got one of those smart refrigerators. It tells him when he's low on milk. Like, dude, open the door! You’re standing right there. Are we really that lazy? Apparently, yes. He also confessed that he once argued with his fridge. Apparently, it insisted he was out of kale, and he was adamant he had just bought some. Turns out, his wife ate it. He lost an argument to an appliance and his wife in one go. That's a special kind of defeat.

Speaking of defeat, I tried online dating recently. Disaster. Absolute, dumpster-fire disaster. My profile picture is me, you know, looking reasonably presentable. My bio says I enjoy long walks on the beach, which is technically true. I just… prefer them to be solitary, and involve a lot of internal screaming.

Anyway, I matched with this woman. She seemed great! Smart, funny, shared my love of… well, breathing oxygen. That's a low bar, I know, but you take what you can get. So, we’re chatting, things are going well, and then she asks the dreaded question: "What are you looking for?"

Now, I panicked. What am I looking for? World peace? A decent night's sleep? A sandwich that doesn’t fall apart the second you bite into it? I went with the honest approach. I said, "I'm looking for someone who won't judge me for wearing socks with sandals."

Silence.

Then, a single, devastating message: "Unmatched."

(Shrugs)

Apparently, sock-sandal synergy is a dealbreaker. Who knew? Maybe I should have argued with her fridge. It probably would have been more understanding. You know, at least it would have offered me some kale.

(Bows slightly)

Thank you, you’ve been… present. Tip your waitresses, try the veal… and for the love of all that is holy, don’t argue with your appliances.