Wednesday, September 2

robots are like cold, metal prostitutes

all i know is that if someone is trying to hide some shit from me it must either have to do with me, or be so fucking interesting that i have to know what it is... that's just the way things are

that robot what crawled out of shit-pipe could be valuable, i thought... it spilled its guts and i didn't remember a fucking thing that it said. so, we pulled it out of the container it was stashed in and stuck the memory back into it. skip was happy to get it out of him... he had become rather political since we implanted it in 'em and that was no good to anyone.

and fuck me, once we turned it on, did it sing! all kinds of plans, locations, names, materiel... you name it, that little whore had it inside... enough to sink both the insurgents and powers-that-be... personally, the status quo seems to work for me... i can stay out of trouble and get things done... but it occurred to me that perhaps, just perhaps, i could make a little more scrip informing the owners of this information that i had this information.

but hold on a minute, angryspaceman... that isn't fair. you are a just and equitable man, so why should you not offer the same proposition to the other side? after all, they have a right to know who and what is being plotted against them... it's only fair, you know.

this seemed like a good and honest thing to do: both sides need to know about what i am holding.

doing so, though, required a little finesse, a little sublety, a little, dare i say, savoir-faire

and who better to deliver this message to the dueling morons that my own aristocratic, handsome, large, brain-damaged giant flapjack... we washed him, combed his hair all pretty, dressed him up in nice formal attire and made a little recording of him informing, no one in particular, that this data was readily available to whomever was interested, and sent it to spacefuck and to planet shitspazz, the home of the insurgents... i've never been there but i'm sure it's really, really nice... must be, otherwise why would they want to inflict their fucking opinions on the rest of us... bastards.

so now we wait...

1 comment:

  1. I actually got to read your blog accidentally about a week ago. I like the story very much, except of few choice words, that I think can be replaced with some other descriptive (and not so loud) terms.


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