LLMs.txt for Balazs Fejes, 2026 Edition

I get it. You try to personalize the content on your website to keep me around and “engaged” as long as possible, while directly injecting ads into my eyeballs. It’s not working so well. I hate your website. Let me help you save precious computing resources and give you personalization recommendations for me instead!

What I don’t want

I don’t care about the World Cup. I never did, I never will.
I am not drinking your morning green goo. Even if lumberjack scientists advertise it.
I don’t care about Taylor Swift’s wedding. I am neither interested in nor upset by the flaunting of wealth and status. I am married, twice now; I see what’s coming for them.
Don’t give me honeytrap content. I have the testosterone level of a 52-year-old overworked wreck who lives in a household with four women.
I don’t care about theories, opinions, hacks, your breathless excitement about Anus 4.9, CPR 5.6, or whatever new model came out. I am as excited as a metalworker when a new hammer is given to him for the morning shift.

What I want to hear about

Did the world blow up while I was asleep? No? Thanks.
Did the stock recover while I was asleep? No? Thanks.
Should I take an umbrella?
Should I try that new restaurant?
Is there a book that just came out that I should read?

That’s about it. Post-apocalypse, I hope we downgrade back to Bulletin Boards and Fidomail. And I’ll get excited again, as that sexy gif slowly downloads over the dial-up modem, line by line, not a single bit wasted, all at human speed.