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My Dearest Justin,
I’m sorry I haven’t written in a few weeks but I’ve been busy. I have a new robot companion that I received for free from the G’apple corporation. The literature says the robot acts and interacts through a complicated form of arrogate algorithms derived from a compiler program direct from the World Wide Web. In other words, whatever the internet does, my robot companion acts out in the form of simplified interactions. Isn’t it great Justin! I just fill out a few simple forms each day, G’apple gets their free research and I get a free companion, so I’m not so doggone lonely anymore. An all around win!
I call my robot Mr. Pickles, he seems to really like the name. Lately, Mr Pickles has taken to ripping the heads off of people and yelling FAIL! down their throats. I guess its some sort of meme. A meme is a kinda fad on the interwebs. For instance, let’s say someone takes a funny picture of a fat kitten looking surprised or of a remorseful dog vagina, they put the picture on the internets and other users insert the picture into amusing scenarios, while other people circulate these pictures on social networking sites. It is uproariously funny. But it can also get like really deep ya know, like when sometimes people put a meme inside of a meme… I don’t even want to think about it. It makes my poor little head hurt. Its pretty amazing.
So anywho, Mr Pickles was ripping the heads off all the hired help and various neighbors the other day when I saw Trudy at the Hot-n-Bite, you know Trudy from my yoga class… anyway Trudy starts telling me about her husband Ted and how all he does is cry about The Fear and The Void day and night. While she’s prattling on, I see Mr. Pickles making a bee-line across the parking deck for her. I quickly took Judy by the shoulders and looked her dead in the eye and said,
“Trudy if you value your life and I know you do… when that cute little robot in the Tadashi cocktail dress comes over here and addresses you, you just scream “Dog vagina!” as loud as you can, OK?”
Judy just smiled uncomfortably at me and then laughed like I had said the funniest joke ever. So Mr. Pickles arrives and offers Trudy a smoke pellet. Trudy graciously accepts and then Mr. Pickles severs her head from her neck with one fluid movement, he lifts her body up at the waist and swings her around like he was playing a trumpet. “FAIL!!!”, he roars down her throat. All the while, her carotid arteries are spraying blood all over him. Well I forgot my place and shrieked, “Pickles! Your dress,” but Mr. Pickles just glared at me, dropped Trudy and rolled on over. So I whisper, “Dog Vagina?” and luckily Mr. Pickles laughed and decided to buy us root beer floats. Oh my new social life sure is exciting! Well I gotta run, looks like Mr. Pickles is ripping off someones beard and eating it.
Love,
Mom
XOXOXO
