Am I teetering on the edge?
Have I grasped that last straw and dropped it?
Is this fumbling leading me to completely fold?
No, I cannot tell from here, but I know one thing.
It’s cool, because I’m going to buy you a robot.
Sure, I’m difficult, and I know that.
I can go off the map, and break like one glass of wine too many.
I know I make normal situations difficult.
And you get frustrated by my moves.
But It’s cool.
Because I am going to buy you a robot.
A robot that will step right in.
For those moments when I careen and slide.
The robot will be there to hold your hand.
To tell you that soon, very soon, all will return to smooth.
Without saying a word.
The robot will be whatever it is you need at that moment.
When my mind has strayed, and you will be comforted.
Because of its blinking lights and mechanized movements.
It will occupy those safe nooks I tend to abandon.
Whenever the wind blows that certain way.
So it’s cool.
Because I am going to buy you a robot.
A robot with bright colors and a perma-grin.
Metallic skin.
Predictable moods and minimal needs.
Self-sufficiency and standardized output.
For those events where my eyes widen just so.
And my driving ability is next to nothing.
When you’re on the brink of shut down.
And you don’t know what to do.
Worry no more.
It’s cool, because I’m going to buy you a robot.
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7 comments:
Im going to buy you a human. Its difficult seeing me consistantly growing more effecient. Those moments when you unkowingly mistake sums for quotient's, your human will be there to re-order your pieces. Its difficult being a robot, never having the freedom to make mistakes, but your human will remind you of how important it is to defragment and dump your cache. Never mind the bullocks, ill buy you a human.
Anonymous, I like the idea of getting a human. I will take that human and feed it well. Then, I am going to buy you a spell-checker.
Because I like you. Nay, LOVE you for understanding me and mine. No? Not no. Yes.
Well, Lisa, Robots are equipped with... how should I put this, uh, 'metal machinery'. And they get to pick the sizing. So, you may not be able to avoid the whole 'ass-pain thing' by going robot instead of man. Know what I mean? Ouchy ouch.
You're totally right. That's tasteless, and I'm totally cool with it.
To hell with the robot, I say Android a la Star Trek.
Jokes.
I liked the Robot poem. I want to print it out and hand it to someopne, but I can't as I respect your shit.
Since you asked, Debbie from the north, you are more than welcome to print it and hand it to whoever (whomever? I hate grammar) you wish.
My only issue with the copyright thing is that some douche-balloons will quietly take something from me and then claim it as their own. I would prefer they steal my physical belongings rather than covet my thoughts and experiences. But I have no problem with anyone sharing this stuff with anyone else, as long as they don't claim it as their own (or allow others to assume it theirs). No one with a blog should mind anonymous or attributed distribution of their shit. I mean, it's already out there.
I'm glad you liked it.
Wowzers, I want one pleazzzze!!
Just think of it, my own personal sex slave. Oh evil thoughts in my mind.
brother nick
Brother, as excited as you are, I would get you a psychiatrist robot first. Just to do a once-over on ya' before you potentially hurt yourself. I think you would damage your equipment on the tin-can variety of mechanized companionship I envision giving away. I’m talking old school, 50’s variety robots. Red China variety. Not like Debbie’s Star Trek androids, all soft and shit. Sheet metal edges. Not cool. Think about it… think about it.
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