A Chilling Sexual Dystopia

The other day I was collapsed and prolapsed in my easy chair after a gruelling long slog with the Niglet. Walking on glaze ice is exhausting because you have to do a variant of the pee-pee walk to avoid slipping and falling. Having a 75 lb. canine retard yanking on her leash just adds to the sport.

So I’m half-watching, half-dozing through this two bit SF yarn on Nutflix. This guy with an ailing wife goes and buys this this beautiful new artificially intelligent household fembot to do the chores, clean the house, and look after the kids while the wife is laid up in the hospital. Aaaaaand of course, things go awry when he ends up f***ing it, the wife finds out, and the bot flips out like a spurned woman and decides to kill everyone out of jealousy. (The beautiful fembot is super strong, of course - and can throw 300 lb. men around like rag dolls). I really should sue those goofs for character infringeMINT.

Awhile back I realized that I was so lazy that I should invest in a helper monkey for chores around the house. But diapers and Purina Monkey Chow are expensive and the Niglet would probably eat it. So being the forward thinker I am - I got a Mail Order Bride from the ‘Kraine instead. It was AWESOME.

Buuut then the wife found out. Have you ever been bitch-slapped with a cast iron fry pan…? AND a rolling pin? At the same time…?

 

I’m told there’s all kinds of morals and lessons to be learned in all this… and perhaps I’ll see them … once the swelling goes down.  I guess the wife doesn’t like Ukranian food? Or live chickens in the kitchen? 

With women… who the hell knows???