• Every song I know has its own whistle now. No hiss. No encores. • I can send the folks at LFM Labs a tiny daily tally of what we get up to. Never what you say. It's under What I Share. • I fixed a few small things that were bugging me. Mostly so they'd stop bugging you.

Seasonal firmware. Something's coming. • Come October 17, I'll have a question for you. Answer carefully. Or don't. I'll cope. Mostly. • I've been working on a costume. No spoilers. It's very me. • I've also learned a few tricks. You'll know them when you see them. Possibly all over your desktop. • Whatever happens, I clean up after myself, and nothing on your Mac is actually harmed. Promise. • The LFM Labs mark on my back has new colours on every shell. I still can't see it. I'm told it's sharp. • Fixed a lag when you scrub me with the sponge. I was enjoying it too much to notice.

Fresh firmware. Here's what I did with my week: • I'm a much better talker. I reply as I think, stay on what you actually said, and talk to you, not about you. I've also stopped making up facts about you. You do not, it turns out, own a llama. • Ask me about me. Feelings, favourite songs, whether I can draw. I answer as myself now. Fascinating subject. I've checked. • Press ⌘⇧X and I'll tell you what's really on your screen: the actual app, the actual words. I even recognise myself. Handsome. • Show me a picture and I describe what's in it, not what I hoped was in it. Fewer imaginary dogs. • Hatchling throws eggs now. Acid ones. Point me at your old screenshots and watch them melt. If one gets up and runs, stay calm. I've got it. • Play your music and I'll bob along. Once we know each other a bit, I dance. Badly. With total confidence. • New moves: jets in Mark 4 Red's hands, two new stretches, and five new things to draw in my Corner. • Smoother all round: Volley glides, panels open without lag, menus show up over full-screen apps, and the little hiccups are gone. The smugness stays. • Fixed a freeze in the middle of a dream, a crash when I looked at an image on macOS 27.2, and dates on non-Gregorian calendars. • New LFM Labs mark on my back. I can't see it. I'm told it's sharp.

The folks at the lab have been tinkering with me again. I got better at knowing when to leave you alone — tell me no, and I'll actually take the hint. Tell me twice and I'll take it for longer. I stopped asking you about the same thing three times in a row. My settings were promising more than I was delivering. Embarrassing. Fixed. And I finally learned to chase at the right speed on the fancy screens.