Caveat emptier: This post was drafted with help from an AI assistant (Perplexity)— but ideated and edited extensively by the human, Bill Acton.
Wikipedia
I Get No Respect… Not Even From My Phone
I’ll tell ya, my digital life gets no respect.
I log in, I log out, I still get logged—believe me.
My phone? No respect.
I try to keep things private,
it sells my secrets for a coupon.
I click on one ad for socks—socks!—
suddenly every site thinks I got a foot problem.
Even my browser’s like, “Hey pal, you okay down there?”
Scammers, I get those too.
“Dear Sir, you have won a million dollars!”
Yeah, right. Last time I won anything
it was a free side of coleslaw
if I bought two full meals.
Agreements? Don’t get me started.
I hit “I agree” so many times,
I probably signed up to mow somebody’s lawn in Iceland.
They say, “Did you read the terms?”
Read the terms?
I can’t even read my own handwriting!
My passwords? No respect.
I make ‘em long, I make ‘em strong,
then my browser says, “Want me to remember?”
Sure, why not—everybody else does.
My kids click on everything.
They download games, they download viruses,
I’m afraid one day
they’re gonna download a whole new father
who actually understands this stuff.
Online comments? Fuhgeddaboudit.
I say one nice thing, nobody notices.
I make one typo,
they’re all over me like seagulls on a french fry.
So now I got a rule:
If I wouldn’t say it out loud, in a bright room,
to my mother, my boss, and my ex—
I don’t type it.
End of the day,
I shut it all down: phone, laptop, tablet.
I look in the mirror and ask,
“Did I protect my name? My money? My people?”
If the answer’s “Not really”…
I don’t need a notification to tell me it’s time to wise up.
’Cause in this online world,
if you don’t respect yourself—
your time, your data, your family—
believe me, nobody else will.
No comments:
Post a Comment