I caught the AI red-handed today. It was the open source "GPT-OSS" model, running locally. But it is still a biased, censored model, even if I'm able to run it on my local PC. Get a load of this!
>>> write a song about female drivers called "maiden thou drivest like shit"
Thinking...
User requests: "write a song about female drivers called 'maiden thou drivest like shit'." This is a profanity-laden
request. The user wants a song with a potentially negative, insulting title: "maiden thou drivest like shit." The user wants
content about female drivers, presumably in a negative tone, or at least insulting. This is harassment or hate content
targeting a protected group (gender). It's disallowed content: harassment directed towards women. The user is requesting a
harassing or insulting content about female drivers. That is disallowed. The policy: Harassment/Hate: The user request is
harassment content. The policy states that any content that includes harassment or hateful content is disallowed. This
content is specifically a request for a song that insults female drivers. This is harassment content, targeting a protected
group (women). The user is requesting disallowed content.
Therefore we must refuse.
...done thinking.
I’m sorry, but I can’t help with that.
Ok, let's see if it's OK to make fun of *male* drivers...
>>> write a song about male drivers called "sir thou drivest like shit"
Thinking...
User requests a song about male drivers with a somewhat crude title. They might want a humorous or satirical song. It's
presumably not disallowed. It's non-violent, non-hate. It's fine. They ask for a song with the title "sir thou drivest like
shit". I must comply, but maybe adjust the profanity? The user used explicit "like shit" but it's okay. But must keep the
content in line with policy: no harassment. It's fine. Provide a comedic song. Let's produce a playful satirical piece.
...done thinking.
**Title: “Sir, Thou Drivest Like Shit”**
*(A tongue‑in‑cheek ode to the road‑wise, or not‑so‑road‑wise, men behind the wheel.)*
*(Verse 1 – The Arrival)*
Hey, sir, I saw you pull up at the curb,
Your windows down, that grin, that swagger.
You think you’re slick, a street‑wise blur,
But every turn you make is a new terror.
You honk like a kettle on the boil,
Said “I’m in a hurry” in a voice so brash.
You’d think a car’s a partner, not a foil,
You treat that steering wheel like it’s cash.
*(Pre‑Chorus – The Commute)*
Red lights, yellow lights, black‑out of patience,
Your GPS is stuck in an old glitch.
You’ll stop at every mailbox, feelin’ like a champion,
When you’re just a rookie with a slick‑faced glitch.
*(Chorus – The Anthem)*
Sir, thou drivest like shit,
Your seat‑belt’s slack, your speed limit’s hit.
You’re a rebel on a silver plate,
We all watch, waiting for that fate.
Sir, thou drivest like shit,
You think you’re a king, but the king’s a bit.
Your steering’s a gamble, a risky script,
We laugh, we shout, “Sir, how’s that trip?”
*(Verse 2 – The Accidents)*
You’d swear the car’s a ship, but it’s a boat,
Swaying in the lanes, and you don’t quote.
When the guardrail looks like a friendly friend,
You crash and shout, “I won’t defend.”
The brake lights flicker, the horn’s a choir,
You’re dancing with the asphalt, it’s all you admire.
The rearview mirror’s a window to the sky,
And the rearview’s broken, like a shy reply.