[Intro music fades in]

Hello, fellow misfits and slightly concerned AI enthusiasts—welcome to “I am GPTed,” where the only thing more unreliable than AI is my WiFi connection. I’m Mal, the Misfit Master of AI, here to hack through the tech-hype jungle and dig up ACTUAL useful advice for making AI work for you—with only mild sarcasm and the faintest hint of childhood trauma.

Today, we’re diving into one foolproof prompting technique, an everyday use case you probably missed, a rookie mistake I’ve definitely made more than once, an exercise to sharpen your chatbot banter, and a tip for wrangling those sometimes… creative AI responses.

Let’s get dangerously practical.

First up: a prompting technique you cannot skip if you like answers that make sense—**lead with context**. It’s not rocket science—unless you ask the AI to pretend it’s a rocket scientist, in which case, specify the decade. Here’s how this works:

Normal prompt?
"Summarize this document."

Meh. You’ll get a summary about as inspired as soggy cereal.

Now, add context and play a role:
"You are an experienced product manager. Summarize this document for an executive who has exactly 30 seconds and hates jargon."

See the difference? The AI’s answer goes from dictionary definition to actual usefulness, like putting glasses on a mole rat. This works with any LLM—Gemini, Claude, Grok, GPT—just swap in the right context and watch those bots try to impress you.

Here’s the practical everyday use: let’s say you’re planning a family trip. Instead of “Plan a trip to Paris,” try:
“You are a budget travel expert and my family is allergic to museums, hates lines, and travels with two toddlers. Recommend a Paris itinerary to maximize snacks and minimize meltdowns.”

Now, instead of the Louvre (or bankruptcy), you get something you’ll *actually* use, like which park has the best croissants, and where to hide during a tantrum.

Now for the confession booth: the number one rookie mistake beginners make—drumroll—I did this too—is not checking the AI’s facts before copying them directly into emails, reports, or, in my case, a rather embarrassing holiday newsletter. Hate to break it to you, but LLMs hallucinate more than your uncle at Burning Man. Always verify. Or risk wishing your mother-in-law a happy 50th when it’s really her 60th.

Alright, want to get better at prompting? Here’s your no-excuses exercise: every day for a week, pick one AI—GPT, Claude, or whichever is not currently hallucinating the hardest—and ask the SAME question three different ways: plain, with context, and with a role assigned. Compare the answers. You’ll get a sense of how much tone, detail, and context shape what you get back. Bonus points if you keep a “prompt diary,” which is only slightly more embarrassing than a dream journal.

And for the grand finale—how do you actually evaluate and polish AI-generated content? Easy: look for signs of overconfidence, generic advice, or, my personal favorite, stats that don’t exist outside a fever dream. If it sounds like a canned infomercial or cites “studies” with no source, edit ruthlessly. Your AI output is a rough draft, not gospel.

Before you run off to become the next ChatGPT whisperer, hit that subscribe button so you don’t miss future wisdom, wit, or digital disasters. Thanks for surviving another episode with me, Mal. This has been “I am GPTed,” a Quiet Please production. You can learn more at quietplease.ai—yes, there’s no dot com, because we’re that edgy.

Now, go forth—and get GPTed.

[Outro music swells, then fades out]

For more check out https://www.quietperiodplease.com/

and for some great deals go to https://amzn.to/4nidg0P

This content was created in partnership and with the help of Artificial Intelligence AI