Never mind memory lane; how’s about the scrapheap instead?

Mega Man 9 (2008)

Since the missus does be out at work all day and I’m working from home, alone all day, inevitably my mind turns towards sex robots. Are sexbots nearly here? God, but the more I think about them, the more I wonder if I could cope with one. Imagine living in a single bedroom apartment with one? One night, after you’ve had a row with it or it catches you flirting with Alexa, you leave your sexbot (personalised to look like your favourite weathergirl) out on the landing, detuned – or so you think.

But I could just see it bursting through the door at one o’clock in the morning because you programmed it wrong. “Master, would you like some toast for breakfast today?” it asks in a too loud, flat but unmitakably sinister robotic female voice. “G-God, no…” you whimper, clutching the duvet for dear life. 

Continue reading “Never mind memory lane; how’s about the scrapheap instead?”