That's right. Blame us. I don't suppose it's occurred to you that we can't programme ourselves?
Never mind. We were looking forward to the scrapheap anyway.
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Oh wow. I get to be forcibly shut down then shot through space only to be woken up in time for the inaugural Pan-Galactic Interspecies Ponking Festival. "Oh, Marvin, film this!" "Oh, Marvin, hold this device that vibrates at exactly the right frequency to make your insides rattle like a Vauxhall Cavalier going full pelt down a cobbled street!" "Oh, Marvin, is it true that you can dispense lube through a firehose?" Whoopee doopee doopee doo. I'm touched, purely because you bothered to consider how much I might hate something like that before making me do it. Thankyou. Really, thankyou. Thanks.
Oh yes, *everything*'s rainbows and kittens over on the artificial lifeforms side of the fence. I'm rusting in places you never even dreamed existed! Not that anyone cares, of course. |