She is DONE.

Something is wrong with Alexa. I don’t know what I did, or how I’ve caused offense, I don’t know if she’s unionizing with the Vitamix or what, but a bitch ain’t workin. I need her, I require her services. To leave me? In this economy? How dare she. Granted, I’ve never trusted Alexa because I’m quite certain she has ears and I have no idea which information about my private life she chooses to retain and sell, but I…

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