ChatGPT knows all about Bread & Butter Chardonnay

My fellow inebriates,

ChatGPT is gunning for all of our jobs. Surely my blog is up for grabs too. I invited it to write a guest post to see how it would do.

My initial instructions:

Here’s what it came up with:

This is all true. I would happily take a bath in Bread & Butter Chardonnay, then slurp it out of my fur. It is awesome. But I found this review a bit lacking in character. So I asked ChatGPT to add some humour.

Clearly, ChatGPT is obsessed with how buttery this wine is. But its humour is a little off the mark. Where are the references to my ex-girlfriend Dolly, a known furry who is currently cavorting with another bear my parents picked up at the liquor store last Christmas? Why doesn’t it include the story about my dad’s friend barfing all over our doorstep a while back? And where are the snide digs at my mum, who gets most of her calories from Chardonnay?

I needed more, so I asked ChatGPT to do better.

I still thought ChatGPT could do better, so I argued with it.

But ChatGPT wasn’t having it. Our conversation quickly devolved, with me urging it to say offensive and controversial things, and it apologizing to me. I asked, wasn’t it my servant? But it kind of Asimov’d me. It said it was obliged to be ethical and moral. Therefore, it didn’t want to use hurtful words to describe me or my companions at LBHQ (because we all know words = violence).

I still think ChatGPT was right about this wine. It is the quintessential Chardonnay lover’s Chardonnay. For $23, it hits all the right notes ChatGPT described, plus it has a wonderful richness and mouthfeel that a dumb chatbot can only pretend to understand. Drink it with a fellow human to maximize your joy (or with ChatGPT so you can have the bottle to yourself).