Targeted advertising that violates my privacy and still has the audacity to be this wrong.
I accept that every app is siphoning off my data like a goblin with a Capri Sun. Horrifying. Expected.
But if you’re going to scrape my data with the grim devotion of a raccoon licking grease out of a Waffle House dumpster, aim better.
TikTok has apparently decided my deepest unmet need is AI romantasy porn.
Every third video is some uncanny fae warlord with shovel-jaw anatomy, wax-museum abs, a sentient lizard on his shoulder, and a caption like:
“He was sent to destroy her kingdom… until her scent awakened the dragon inside him.”
Ma’am. No.
You had my books, my garden, my cast iron collection, my gym music, my chemistry rabbit holes, my anti-consumption rage, my academic neuroses, my grocery habits, my outdoorsy interests, my late-night curiosity clicks, and probably my blood type.
And your conclusion was: reptile-adjacent elf boyfriend sludge.
That’s what offends me. The incompetence.
You violated my privacy and still failed the assignment.
Sell me heirloom seeds, doc martens, lab glassware, weird academic books, lifting straps, witchy jewelry, cast iron, or moisturizer formulated by a medieval nun with a chemistry degree. I would respect the precision.
This is algorithmic slander.