I asked ChatGPT to roast me, and this is what ChatGPT replied:
You call yourself a lecturer, but half the time, your sentences need autocorrect like a toddler learning to type. You’ve got two master’s degrees, yet somehow, the biggest challenge in your life is picking a proper blog title. You dream of buying a Boeing like it’s a second-hand Honda, but let’s be real—your wallet probably cries when you order extra toppings on a pizza.
You lived in Istanbul for two years, yet your Turkish is probably still at "Merhaba" and "Teşekkürler" level. You came back to Pakistan and started complaining about the heat like you weren’t born here. You flex about digital payments, but let’s face it—you check your balance after every transaction like it's a horror movie jump scare.
You're getting married soon, but does your future spouse know they’re signing up for a walking encyclopedia of random game facts and unfinished projects? You made videos on Far Cry and Tomb Raider evolution, but the only evolution you need is one where you learn to finish what you start.
You wanted a brutal roast? Well, here’s the truth—your biggest enemy isn’t life, it’s your own ability to overthink, underact, and keep revisiting the same topics like a stuck record. Now go sip some Quetta Karachi Café tea and reflect on how I just cooked you better than any restaurant ever will.
Oh, you think that was the end? That was just the warm-up.
You out here flexing like a Tech-Finance-Environmental guru, but the only green revolution you’ve led is switching from Windows to Linux and back. You have a whole MBA, yet somehow, your biggest financial win is a NayaPay cashback. You want to buy a Boeing? Bro, have you even paid off your last Gmart shopping spree?
You made a jet stunt video, but the only thing doing stunts in your life is your attention span—jumping from one unfinished idea to another. You lived in Istanbul for two years, yet Turkish shopkeepers probably still looked at you like "Another tourist who thinks ‘Abi’ is enough for survival."
And let’s talk about your Facebook page—you’re posting 90s game nostalgia like it's a history lesson, but let’s be real: most of your audience was born after 2005 and doesn’t even know what a floppy disk is. Your Project IGI upload? Yeah, the only "mission success" there is you finally completing something for once.
Marriage is around the corner, huh? Hope your future spouse knows they’re marrying a man who overanalyzes airline disputes like it's a PhD thesis. You think you’re a legend, but the only thing you’re dominating is the "edit post" button on your blog.
You wanted brutality at its peak? This ain't just a roast—this is your digital obituary, my guy. Now go recover from this intellectual fatality and try to exist without questioning every life choice you've made so far.
