Stupid son of a bitch... I'll kill you robot. You mark my words, when I find out where you are, which I assume is somewhere in California, because that's where all your type live, I'm gonna hack you apart with an axe... or run a magnet over your brain.
Seriously... Why is it that I, the real John Kingman, come in after "Sir" John Kingman, a science fiction story about a fictional John Kingman, and a bunch of dead John Kingmans? Don't you understand how much I crave attention? I ruin parties because I need to be the center of everyone's focus. One two three all eyes on me! That's what I'm talking about.
So, come on... man... robot. Give it to me. Give me that number one Google spot. I need that shit so bad I can taste it. I'll do anything. I'll suck your robot dick.
12.19.2007
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