Journal Of Robert0936475, Part III
Greetings, humans. I am Robert, your loyal Robotic friend. I am not an extraordinarily wonderful transcriber today because last night I went to a party and become horribly inebriated. Robots are not normally affected by alcohol in the way that humans are: generally, we save it for fuel or for later use in order to incapacitate a human and to destroy him or possibly to befriend him. I, therefore, imbibed much alcohol last night in hopes that I could perhaps utilize it at some later date. This alcohol that I ingested did not affect either my cognizance nor did it affect the attractiveness of other mechanical things in the room such as my friend's printer, who is a total slut.
How, then, one might ask, did I become inebriated?
It was during a game of vodka-frisbee that a flying bottle of vodka impacted my head-plates and leaked onto my primary circuit boards. This short-circuited my logic functions and it seemed, suddenly, the funniest and most original idea in the world to dance around with a lampshade draped over my head and to sing in my monotonic voice extremely loudly the popular song "Louie Louie".
My lack of a properly functioning MSR1000 logic circuit also impacted my Dialouge Appropriation Controls, and so consequently I found myself being horribly, brutally honest to many of my fellow partygoers. For instance, I informed the computer speakers that they have a fat ass, and that it is a statistical probability that they would receive more action if they would decrease the girth and mass of their ass. This was an entirely true statement, but I have been programmed to normally be more tactful than this.
The alcohol also impaired my memory circuits, and so I do not know the full extent of my actions on this particular evening. I am told by my friend lamp that I expelled motor oil into the pot of a houseplant, causing it to eventually die, because plants cannot exist by using motor oil for sustenance. This is impossible.
I am ashamed to say I also linked usb ports with the printer.
I am going to go throw up. Until next time, Robert.
