“Till Tech Do Us Part”

Marge and Bob had been married for 53 years.

And like any couple that’s spent five decades together, they’d developed a certain… rhythm.

Marge knew when Bob was lying (his left eyebrow twitched).

Bob knew when Marge was angry (she made meatloaf).

They loved each other deeply—just not always kindly. One evening, Marge walked into the living room and found Bob holding her phone, staring at the screen with a confused look.

“Who’s Siri?” he asked.

Marge blinked. “Excuse me?” “You’ve been talking to her all week.

At night. In the kitchen.” “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Bob.

Siri is the phone assistant.” “I don’t trust her.” “She’s a robot!” “So was your mother.”

After an hour of explaining voice assistants, Bob muttered, “Still think she’s too flirty.”

A few days later, Marge caught Bob in the garage whispering to her phone.

She leaned in. “Siri, tell Marge she’s beautiful,” he whispered.

The phone responded flatly: “I’m not sure I understand.” Marge burst out laughing.

“Siri gets me better than you ever did!”


“The Doctor’s Orders”

At 82, Leonard had two hobbies: complaining and proving doctors wrong.

So when his new doctor—a man at least 50 years younger—told him to “cut back on red meat, salt, and sarcasm,” Leonard just laughed.

“I survived the Great Depression, two wars, and disco,” he said.

“I’m not about to be taken out by a cheeseburger.”

But his daughter insisted he go for a full check-up.

So Leonard shuffled into the clinic, grumbling the entire time. The doctor greeted him with a smile.

“How are we today?” “Well, you’re young and rich, and I’m old and annoyed.

So I’d say you’re winning.” After an hour of poking, prodding, and listening to Leonard’s theories about how yogurt was “probably a government trap,” the doctor leaned back.

“You’re in surprisingly good shape.” “I told you!” Leonard beamed.

“My secret? Bacon, black coffee, and yelling at the TV.”

The doctor sighed. “Just… try walking more.” Leonard nodded.

The next day, he walked up and down the street yelling at every mailbox. “It’s cardio and free speech,” he said proudly.