The Robot Sexocalypse

For the three people that are regular readers of Ideas That Won’t Change the World, I’ve been predicting the robocalypse for a long time. In all my unjustified fear and ignorance of something new and ingenious, I never thought about the sexocalypse. Innovators of robotic technology are now seeking for ways to replace the “world’s oldest profession” with robots. And by “world’s oldest profession”, I naturally mean the village idiot.

Caveman One: I’ll give you three rocks if you swallow an electric eel.

Caveman Two: Three rocks! That’s three months salary! Obligatory dialogue!

Cavevillage Idiot: Four rocks! And I’ll also swallow a cobra!

Caveman One: Done!

Cavevillage Idiot: Haha! Suckers.

Unfortunately, the robotic village idiot was run over by a semi after waving it’s bum at traffic. So we now turn to robotics to fill the needs of the “world’s second oldest profession” — prostitution. Yes, the sex industry is seeking to improve the sex doll.

Roboc Penis... You sure missed out.

She turns her head slowly to gaze at you when you aren't paying attention. You blink. She's another step closer. Is that a knife? Or are you imaging things?

The improved sex doll may actually be an idea that will indeed change the world. Once you get past the notion that the dolls looks like a creature that will decapitate you in your sleep, they will benefit society.  According to the article I read, “sex with a robot won’t sound nearly as weird or creepy by 2050 as it does today.”

Thank god for that! In another forty years, we’ll have creepy robot doll sex parties! Just when I am getting to the age of retirement too! Instead of resigning to my fate of being a pervy old man that writes formal complaints about always being assigned a male nurse, I can be a real pervy old man with robot sex dolls!

All joking aside, I actually think the robot sex doll is a good idea. While I don’t think I’d partake in robot sex, I think that many people would — especially if they looked at little less like a Doctor Who villain and more like a person that you’d actually want to have sex with. I’d imagine that the device would cut down the spread of disease, sex slavery, and other such ills of the prostitution world.  If people want to have a robot sexocalypse, I say have at it.

The only problem with the prostitute droids is installing an A.I. interface. The interface will bring up all sorts of questions like: Do A.I.’s have consciousness? Do they deserve all the same rights and privileges of every human being? If you made a sex doll that talks for hours about it’s idea for a science fiction novel with no interest in two-way conversation, would people want to have sex with it?

Before we start violating the rights of sentient A.I. beings, just remember they can wield bigger guns — as well as bigger breasts. So when a large breasted woman holding a bazooka with one hand tells you no, she means it. Furthermore, when any woman tells you no, she means that too. A one night stand with your hand in the bathroom is better than a lifetime in prison with a companion named The Ape.

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Great Conspiracies

Since I am a purveyor of fine truths since 2010, I want to shed light on some of the more notorious cover-ups in history.

What happened: In 2004, George Bush won the election against John Kerry after a voter recount.

What Really Happened: Toucan Sam really won the election. What we don’t know is that breakfast cereal icons rule the country with Stalinesque tactics. Toucan Sam put razor blades in Cap’n Crunch’s cereal thus leading to the myth of the Cap’s cereal cutting your mouth.

What Happened: The Mayan calender ends in December 2012 inspiring apocalypse theories everywhere.

What Really Happened: After chewing on some coco leaves, two Mayans had a conversation that went like this:

Mayan One: Bro, bro… Wouldn’t it be funny if we just ended the calender?

Mayan Two: Huh?

Mayan One: Hear me out bro. We can just totally stop the calender and people will be like, oh shit man… there’s like, no calender, man! Now there’s no time, bro!

Mayan Two: You are so high.

Mayan One: Seriously, bro! They’d like freak out because without time, they wouldn’t know when to go to their doctor’s appointments!

Mayan Two: You should see a doctor.

Mayan One: Dude, you watch me. I’m going to end the calender. People will totally wig! It will be the biggest prank ever! A prank thousands of years in the making!

Mayan One exits in a huff.

Mayan Two: You won’t be alive to see it.

What Happened: Kennedy was shot by a guy on the grassy knoll.

What Really Happened: It was actually Lee Harvey Oswald that shot him. Except he was on the grassy knoll and the book depository. Lee has a twin brother that looks like this:

Scary Face

Ready to assassin.

Doesn’t this guy totally look like he is ready to kill Kennedy? If any person is going to go crazy shooting up the place, it’s this guy. That mad grin expresses the joy he must get from killing people. If some one is going to be a president killer, it’s this guy right here. I bet if we scroll down, we’d totally see he is way happy because he has these assassin weapons locked and loaded.

 

 

 

 

 

 

. . .

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Um. . .

 

What Happened: Terrorists attacked the World Trade Center in 2001 with commercial airplanes.

What Really Happened: Despite the slew of witnesses in the most populated city in the world, it was really the aliens from Independence Day. They are actually a race that often flies giant ships over every strategic city in the world and charge a giant beacon that looks like a city wide firestorm. Jeff Goldblum and Will Smith happened to be in New York that day and kicked ET’s ass.

They realized later that the aliens were peaceful and the beacon was charging not a weapon of mass destruction but a giant Lite Brite. They were only trying to say, “We like kitties” and create a picture with a misshaped cat. Will and Jeff were pretty embarrassed so they covered up the mistake with Will Smith’s memory erasing device from the Men in Black films. Like any great conspiracies, the one with the most complicated an convoluted set of the circumstances is the easiest one to believe.

ZAP!

Will Smith just told me to redecorate my house! Now what was I writing?

Poop Thousand Twelve

The greatest invention of our time is now available: The Poop to Electricity Machine. That’s right! This is not an April Fool’s prank. This is a real — if stinky — deal! I can’t wait for the next step when we can just shit directly into our gas tank. Imagine stop free road trips as refueling is a simple matter of pooping in the gas tank.

The next time you are on a road trip don’t be afraid to stop at Taco Bell. Fill up on those 5,000 layer burritos. They will be useful later on when the tank is close to empty. We really haven’t had an invention this wonderful since the port-a-potty. Imagine large events without port-a-potties.

Shakespearean Actor: We have a great show for you tonight! How are the groundlings doing?

Groundling: Everybody is shitting on us.

I really think the next step is to create a urine to windshield wiper fluid converter. It sure beats trying to do it yourself while going 75 miles an hour. At the very least, it will stop the truckers from honking at me.