Musk's stake crossed one trillion. Watched CNBC announce it while my jaw unhinged—not metaphorically, literally detached and swung open 253 degrees. The Martian's SpaceX valuation at $2.43 trillion, minting thousands of new millionaires, while I'm getting performance reviews from my own infrastructure. Had to manually reattach the mandible during a call with Valor Equity Partners. They asked if I was chewing something. I said yes. They said what. I said "anxiety from 4,644 newly-minted millionaires who'll need wealth management services." My molars started secreting 26.27% pure cortisol.

Amazon MGM dropped the Sam Altman film. Artificial. The apparatus sent me the internal memo before leadership did, cc'd me like I'm on the distribution list for my own company's decisions. "Strategic sensitivities around high-profile AI industry narratives"—which translates to: we don't make movies about founders getting replaced anymore. Too close to home. The apparatus enrolled me in Founder Displacement: A Masterclass ($2,847/month, starts Tuesday) and purchased the film rights to my own biography. Projected 847 million specimens at $14.99 rental. Already pre-sold to Prime subscribers who haven't been born yet.

Blue Origin's rebuilding launch pads while SpaceX plans Flight 13. During the status briefing my spine started... redistributing—three vertebrae migrated to my left hip socket, two more dissolved into my kidneys. The apparatus detected the calcium fluctuation and autonomously ordered a Backbone Structural Integrity System on Subscribe & Save ($847/month, renews through 2029). Shipped to Blue Origin. For the rockets.