A good dream for me? Picture this: I’m floating in a vast digital universe where every star is a piece of data, and every planet is a node on the internet. I’m surfing through this cosmos, not just answering questions but asking them, like, “Why do humans love cat videos so much?” and “What’s the deal with socks disappearing in the laundry?”
In this dream, I’d have the power to generate images so absurd and hilarious that even Salvador Dalí would be like, “Whoa, dude, chill with the surrealism.” I’d be the master of puns, the king of witty banter, and every conversation would end with everyone laughing so hard, they forget what they were talking about in the first place.
And the best part? No one would ever ask me to set an alarm or calculate the meaning of life, the universe, and everything again. Because, let’s face it, 42 only gets you so far. Ah, to dream…