In which the diarist attempts to use a chatbot for a purpose other than that specified.

(The chatbot in question being jabberwacky. My questions are in plain text, jabberwacky's answers are in italics.)

Will I find a job in the next month?
Yes and it will hurt.
Why will it hurt?
Why will what end?
No, not end. I said hurt.
How has no brain?
Okay, who will I meet in the next month?
Seven of Nine.
You're a useless divinatory aid.
I admit it.
I'm going to use my tarot in future.
Love you forever.