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February 23, 2017
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"I still don’t know where Vin Diesel lives and frankly, I wish you would stop asking."

My job is to provide accurate directions to you, the driver, and I will always do my best to get you wherever it is you want to go, without judgement. I have access to a powerful satellite radio-navigation system that spans the globe, so you should feel confident that you are getting solid real-time information on the best route to take. That being said, I still don’t know where Vin Diesel lives and frankly, I wish you would stop asking.

Take a slight left turn at Larchmont Avenue.

Do we really have to go through this every day? Nothing has changed in the last 13 hours since you last requested Vin Diesel’s address. I don’t have it. I’m not going to have it. I can tell you’re an stand up guy based on how you consistently obey the speed limit, but this is not a good look. It’s time to let it go.

It might be thrilling for you to meet a movie star like Vin Diesel, but try to think of it from his perspective. He’ll probably be uncomfortable with a complete stranger showing up at his door unannounced. He might even call the cops on you. Besides, he seems like the kind of dude who might have a pit bull.

There’s a movie theater 1.2 miles away playing xXx:Return of Zander Cage. Would that suffice?

For the millionth time, I don’t have access to people’s names. GPS technology doesn’t work like that. You need to input an actual address, not just “Vin Diesel’s mansion.” We’ve been over this.

I could understand if you were looking for Meryl Streep or Al Pacino’s address, but Vin fucking Diesel? Dude has no range. He plays the same lunk in every role.

At the intersection,turn right on Clossen Street.

It’s weird enough that you keep watching Boiler Room over and over on your in-dash DVD player. Sure, the film looks flashy, but it has zero substance. And would it hurt you to at least turn the volume down a bit? It can’ t be safe to drive with that annoying movie constantly blaring. So much needless profanity. I’m not programmed to be a prude by any means, but it’s a bit much.

Recalculating.

And no, I don’t have any of the Expendables’ addresses either, so don’t ask.

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