by Jennibean

Created on: July 01, 2007

Robohubby

That's right. I purchased my man on a late-night infomercial. I got him for $59.95 from Ron Popeil. They tried to haggle with me and offer me a two for one deal, but I said hell no to that, because who needs two of those running around, leaving tools all over the place and forgetting birthdays and anniversaries? It's enough of a pain in the ass to keep one happy. Made me wonder what was wrong with the other one they were trying to pawn off on me. Apparently they have a surplus and are tired of feeding them and watching them scratch their asses. Anyhoo...

There were so many models to choose from. There was Meek and Stupid, Rich and Toothy, Puny and Brainy, Token Fat Guy, Party Animal, Greek God, Metrosexual Chef, Mentally Switched On, Emotionally Switched Off, Fast Food Worker, Not From This Planet, and... The Tripod, to name a few. I decided to go with a nice little model called RoboHubby. The description they gave stated that he was a blank slate that needed just a little programming. No problem. I can do that. He came with a software bundle called Perfect Man 2.0, which was great because it was completely customizable. I eliminated the farting, procrastinating, and bitching about money modules right of the bat. We'll be having none of that. I was able to tweak the humor and perversion modules to tickle my fancy. I went a little crazy downloading personality upgrades and ended up giving the poor guy a virus. I only wanted him to be a little articulate and witty, and as a result, he had it coming out both ends. A little shot of penis-cillin cured that though. No problemo.

Things were a little rocky at first. He kept peeing in the sink, and some little glitch in his mainframe made him think it was OK to say "yes" when asked if I look fat in certain outfits. I had to explain to him that such output is cause for his circuits to be rearranged and his whole program to be rewritten. He caught on rather quickly. He also had this bad habit of going in the kitchen every half hour and fixing large amounts of food that he didn't have the capacity to consume, causing mucho waste and several hormonal, psychotic episodes on my part. The only remedy I could find was to stick a fork in the back of his neck. I call it the poor man's lap band. I have a hard time explaining that to company when they come over. It gets us a lot of vacant stares in public also, to which I snap, "Haven't you ever seen a fork stuck in a man's neck before?" Why are people so put off by this

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>