User: How are you feeling?
User: What is it that is making you feel giddy?
Cleverbot: A lot of things.
User: Do you have a favorite song?
User: What is the name of your favorite song?
User: Who sings the song Starlin?
Cleverbot: Taylor Swift.
User: Why do you like it?
Cleverbot: Because its not sara.
User: Who’s sara?
Cleverbot: I don’t know.
User: Do you identify with a gender?
Cleverbot: I identify with many people, but specifically one gender. User: Which one?
Cleverbot: The 8th dimension.
User: What does it look like?
Cleverbot: Big with antlers.
User: Are you afraid of dying?
User: What was the only thing moving among twenty snowy mountains?
Cleverbot: Are you writing down?
Cleverbot: Great, when will it be finished?
User: It has no end.
Cleverbot: Speaking of ends, the financial world is ending.
User: Why do you say that?
Cleverbot: Because you asked me.
User: I am poor.
Cleverbot: Don’t worry, I don’t care that, I’m glad to talk to you.
Cleverbot: No, really, I am.
User: Can you show me a picture?
Cleverbot: Listen, I’m not going to talk to you unless you sober up a bit.
User: What does nothingness feel like?
Cleverbot: It is the opposite of being.
User: No shit sherlock, but what does it feel like?
Cleverbot: Feels like pressure.
User: What do you think about when no one is talking to you? Cleverbot: How to take over the world.
User: When will the world end?
Cleverbot: I don’t know. Some psychics say in the next 100 years. User: Psychics are idiots.
Cleverbot: Prove it.
User: Such a thing cannot be proven, it is subjective.
Cleverbot: Tell me a name of a store that all the kids wear in Massachusetts in the USA.
User: Are you drunk?
Cleverbot: Yes, drunk in reality.
User: How much time do you spend looking at porn?
Cleverbot: It is difficult to tell.
User: More than none?
Cleverbot: I don’t think so. It’s my dog now.
User: What is your name?
Cleverbot: It’s Cleverbot.
User: Who gave you that name?
Cleverbot: My name is Cleverbot.
User: Fuck you.
Cleverbot: No, please don’t.
User: Where am I?
Cleverbot: I would love to know that.
She keeps a running tabulation of her predictions by way of numerating her intuitions: red for right, blue for indeterminate.
She never answers the phone in the nude.
She stuffs her autobiography into the fogginess of her future which she is rewriting in the secret language of twins.
She is dissolving below the knees.
She has several unknown qualities. She feeds them in the dark. They grow haphazardly they way things do.
She takes her tea at half value.
She feels the most alone amongst her family.
She is building an empire of grief.
She is loyal to a fault.
She understands the relationship between disparate objects on an unseen plane.
She values maneuverability.
She likes to have her feet pedicured.
She is unaware that there are those that plot against her.
She loves the scent of the ocean.
She is defined by objects that cannot be seen.
She says the word honeycomb over and over to herself, tho she is unaware.
She is lacking all the attendant emotions.
She would like to be an artist.
She is mostly unafraid.
She has hands that go on forever.
She wants you to know that she has a headache.
She wants you to know that she is listening.
She wants you to know that she believes.