Robotian Slip
grace: so my mom thinks that clearing stuff off her desktop will give me more memory
grace: she deleted a shitload of shortcuts thinking it’d do the trick
grace: her computer more memory, not me
grace: i’m not really a robot
nick: hahahaha
nick: a likely story
This is almost as bad as the time I stood up from a couch and batteries fell out of the remote prompting me to declare “Aw man, I really am a robot” in front of one PJ Clarke. Terrible decision on my part seeing as the mechanically inclined PJ can go on and on with the robot jokes, leaving me to short circuit from my tears.
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Sometimes I think my friends are crazy, and one in particular, although I love her for it. And then I read something, namely this, and it occurs to me that my FRIEND’s friend might be even more nuts, and that consoles me. But I’m not sure why.
On the other hand, I often imagine myself as a robot, much like Bender, powered by booze. I wish I had a large storage space in my chest. I’d hide whisky there, too.