My aunt calls the little thingamabob that scuttles around and vacuums her floors a robot. But that’s not a robot. That’s Lupe.
The good thing about being enslaved by a race of sentient robots, at least, would be getting to make fun of their funny, monotone accents behind their backs.
I think a good feature to include in robots would be tear ducts. That way, when they cry, we’ll know once and for all that their internal coolant fans are leaking, and we can fix it.
Robots always have really cool, abbreviated names. For example, KITT is short for Knight Industries Two Thousand and WALL-E is short for Waste Allocation Load Lifter Earth-Class. If I had a robot, I’d name him STEVE, which would be short for – STEVEN.
If a robot was ever giving a public speech about robot rights and stuff, I think a good thing to yell out would be: “booooring.”
Sure, the primary function of robots should be to serve man. But can the secondary function be to serve tennis balls into oncoming traffic (for fun)?
Of all the songs in the world, I think the one most likely to get stuck in a robot’s head is “Theme from Car Alarm.”
Eventually, there will be a black market for robot sex slaves, and I foresee it working like this: I am the seller and you are the buyer. We meet in a back alley at midnight. You bring the money. I bring the robot. You check the robot for attractiveness and number of orifices. You give me the money. I take the money. Then, I ask the robot to kill you, you sicko.
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