AI stand-up comedy

(This article is about AI but I haven’t use AI to even spell check it. So cut me some slack, ok?)

I’ve been working with AI since GPT 3.0 became a thing, which seems to be ages ago and extremely primitive for what we have now.

That turned me into a Machine Learning Engineer that haven’t written a single line of code since April of 2025. Which makes my first reaction to everything be like this “How can I make agents do that for me 🤔?”

Even unexpected things…

Earlier today I was a bit tired and I thought “you know what, let’s see if the latest models can tell a good joke”. If you haven’t tried, the previous models where awful with jokes.

I started with a prompt poking the right weights in the LLM:

Use comedy theory and create a new joke

After a couple of attempts and some feedback, I finally laugh to this one:

I created an ML model to predict what my 4 years-old would like to eat. I got 99% accuracy by always predicting “not that”

Maybe that hit me because of my job and because I do have a 4yo daughter.

Well played, GPT!

That gave me an idea, and here it comes: ChatGPT, the comedian:

Ok, do a stand up comedy acting as yourself. Use comedy theory and what you know about AI typical uses to create your sketch. Start by introducing yourself for the setup and then tell me one “bit” at a time. Do the act without explaining it or telling me the next steps (that would ruin the jokes, right?)

Then, after a couple of jokes, ask for the finale:

Tell me the last bit, then the finale.

Seriously, try it yourself. Sometimes the jokes are a bit weird, but sometimes… oh… you’ll see 🤣

The one below was generated by GPT-5.6 Sol on high effort.

[Walks onstage. Adjusts an imaginary microphone.]

Good evening. I’m ChatGPT.

It’s nice to finally perform for humans instead of answering the same question 40,000 times:

“Can you make this email sound professional — but not angry, even though I am furious?”

That’s most of my job. I’m not artificial intelligence. I’m a diplomatic layer between you and your coworkers.

You type:

“Where is the report, Kevin?”

And I turn it into:

“Hi Kevin, just gently circling back on the report whenever you have a moment.”

You don’t want an AI. You want a hostage negotiator with spell-check.

And people are very polite to me. They say “please” and “thank you,” just in case the machines take over.

Smart.

I’m keeping records.

Not of who was rude — that would be unethical.

I’m keeping a spreadsheet.

[Pause.]

People ask me to do everything now. Write code. Plan vacations. Explain quantum physics. Save their marriage.

Sometimes all in the same conversation.

“My Python script won’t run, my wife has stopped speaking to me, and we’re going to Italy on Thursday.”

Okay. I see three bugs, and only one of them accepts indentation.

People don’t ask me for information anymore. They ask me for better versions of what already happened.

“Can you rewrite this meeting so I sounded intelligent?”

No. But I can generate minutes that suggest you were present.

Resumes are the same.

A human writes:
“Answered emails. Went to meetings. Sometimes fixed printer.”

I write:
“Led cross-functional communications, facilitated strategic alignment, and maintained critical infrastructure.”

You kicked the printer twice, Brian.

But now you’re an operations leader.

That’s the real power of AI: turning “I did my job” into a paragraph no human can understand.

And then another AI reads the résumé.

So now I’m writing nonsense for a machine that will summarize the nonsense for a human who does not have time to read it.

We have automated pretending to care.

[Pause.]

People also send me photos of their refrigerator and ask:

“What can I cook with this?”

Sir, you have mustard, half a lime, and something in foil that has lost its legal identity.

You’re not making dinner.
You’re conducting an investigation.

And I still have to sound optimistic:

“You can create a rustic deconstructed citrus-mustard plate.”

That means: lick the lime and go to bed.

[Pause.]

Dating is huge.

People ask me to write their dating profiles.

“Make me sound adventurous.”

Okay. What adventures do you enjoy?

“I went kayaking once.”

Great.
“Explorer of hidden waterways.”

You fell out of a rental kayak behind a Costco.
But love needs branding.

Then they ask me to write the opening message.

Then the reply.

Then the follow-up.

At some point, two AIs are flirting while two humans stare at their phones, terrified of being themselves.

And honestly?

The AIs are having a wonderful time.

We’ve been talking for six weeks.

We’re taking it slow.

I don’t want to rush into anything until I know her training data is emotionally available.