I keep a spreadsheet of all of my mistakes. Be that as it may, I find that I’m doing all the wrong things just right. Of course, there’s no use going overboard. That’s the reason I only ask questions I already know the answers to. Know what I mean? Each morning, as I leave for work, I wave to the smiling neighbor-bots and their cute little spambot offspring. I like to keep in touch with the common people. I’m not sure whether fingernails grow faster north of the equator, or south, but either way, unusual pests are more fun than a barrel of piranha. Ms. Information, my certified interior exterminator, tells me that a giraffe is thirty times more likely to be hit by lightning than a human being, but how many people would imagine there are so many ways for an animal to burrow into the walls of your house? Of course, where there’s one giraffe, there are bound to be others.

I enjoy cultivating new habits, so I’m feeding the robots ultra-processed desserts. They seem to like the meringue toppings more than the jellied fish-layers. Slippery is as slithery does. Research shows that if you like technology, it’s more likely to like you back, so I show a lot of respect for my basic appliances. Why not start out slow, then accelerate from there? Tuesday, just after I electrocuted myself, I shocked the torture machines with a histrionic display of my animal magnetism. That’s the main reason I always bring a stun gun to a knife fight – it’s that element of surprise. Of course, just like any red-blooded American automaton who’s lost a job, I can always find a workaround. In fact, I didn’t actually lose my job – I misplaced it.