Tuesday, April 28

it's like a printer, only more stupid

so, i am forced, sometimes, to use matter compilers. as a rule, i can't stand them, for a couple of reasons

1) it's not like it can make ANYTHING... in fact, it can make very few things you'd want and the ones it does it does shitty.

2) the kind of food it can make is even more reprehensible. even if a matter compiler claims that its croque monsieur is the best that can be synthesized, analyze the fucking sentence... it's not the best. it's nowhere near the best. it's about as fucking far from best as you can get: it's merely the best than be synthesized, which is like saying flapjack is the best retard money can buy.

3) i find the idea of eating something that has just been assembled very very unpleasant. sort of like discussing the egg you want with a mechanical chicken then watching it lay. gross.

4) i don't have a fourth reason, fuck off.

5) they have just about the worst substitution logic of any... well... i can't really think of a comparison, but it's this point that really gets me going... most of the time, you go to one of these fucking booths to get something simple, like said croque monsieur, a new shirt, or a gin and tonic, and you end up with a burned sponge covered in shredded soap, a shirt made of ultra-thin copper wire or a drink that's been flavored with lemon-scented toilet cleaner and two fucking cubes of dry ice.

not convenient.

i went and talked to one of their reps, up on one of the mall level, and he said that blahblahblah...very sorry... please fill in the refund form... and that it's a new technology and so on and so forth.

i asked him how this is possible, that it makes such stupid mistakes. he said that they are still working out the kinks, but that the thing works like a printer, in that it has tanks of different constituents. whereas a printer, though, has cyan-maroon-yellow-black, these machines have thousands and that when one tank runs out, it has to substitute. sometimes, a lot of tanks run out, so it goes a little crazy. think, he pleaded, of all the zillions of combinations it could make, with all those tanks, after all, they take up their level on the station.

i told him that yea, it's just like a fucking printer, if a printer, when asked for the daily news, starting shooting wood chips into your cock.

apparently, that was not helpful and i was told not to use the machines, as they have some camera, will recognize my face and not turn on. i told him that'll barely be any different than most of the times i've tried to use his stupid machine.

i stole some pens and bolted out of there

next time, i'm going over to the zog's shop just by the hangar 23, it may be disgusting and full of whores and their kids, but at least i know what'll be on my damn sandwich.



  2. bitch bitch bitch... all i ever get are complaints... happy now? i fixed the font...


what the fuck is your problem?