Thanks for joining us today for the first in a series of public service posts, Consult Construx (or As cXnX Sees It), where we finally give back to the faithful Chux Chazerz with queries they know only one ridiculous website can quell. We look forward to hearing from you soon! Enjoy.
This week's Construx Counsel consists of Paul, Ryan and Ian.
PAUL: I know you've known Canaan a long time, but he has been hiding an awfully tremendous secret from you for ... well that's tough to explain.
Canaan Patragas (aka: Canaan PTRGS: 0401) is from the distant future. The year 3033 to be exact. As we all can assume, in the future robots are in control and Canaan is what they would call unit PTRGS: 0401. Robots have made society the paradise that is touted in most Utopian sci-fi novels, pollution free, things running at peak efficiency, and lots of ...um ... robot sex.
Robots are constantly having sex in the year 3033. After the robot sexual revolution in 3001 robots have felt more liberated and comfortable with intercourse between two consensual robots of any build or job orientation. However, the robots who were enjoying their new sexual awakening do not usually practice discreteness, modesty, or consideration for the (few) humans around them.
Canaan worked as a cybernetic prostitute after he graduated from Robo-College 9000 with a cyber bachelors in Robo-Accounting. Times were tough for the humans then, as Canaan pleasured countless fem-bots with very little pay. Canaan was looking for legitimate work but in the future it was tough to find robo-accounting jobs since most of them were taken by actual math-bots.
|Fembot 9000s has the ability to shame you.|
After a night of trying to pleasure a newly modeled fem-bot 9000s Canaan felt exhausted and unfulfilled. He turned to the fembot 9000s and asked, "0101011101101000011110010010000001100011011000010110111000100111011101000010000001001001001000000111000001101100011001010110000101110011011101010111001001100101001000000111010001101000011001010010000001101110011001010111011100100000011011010110111101100100011001010110110001110011001000000110000101101110011110010110110101101111011100100110010100111111?" (which is human for "why can't I pleasure these new models?"
It was explained to Canaan (PTRGS: 0401) that the new models are no longer compatible with his "hardware" and that now with the S upgrade that they can experience what we would interpret as an orgasm. Fembot 9000s flew out the window leaving Canaan with a useless robo-accounting degree and now a failed job as cyber-prostitute. His job was being phased out by newer models (PTRGS 0401.5) and Canaan felt purposeless.
|This business used to have class.|
Soon enough robots were having sex everywhere! It soon became impossible to avoid these promiscuous robots that constantly reminded him of his inadequacy. The sounds of these robots "climaxing" are what we can equate to the "dubstep" of 2012. Everywhere the glitchy booms and screeching whirrs echoed in the Neo-Pittsburgh Streets.
Here is footage:
Not being able to cope with the stressors of 3033, Canaan used his accumulated Subway points and time traveled back to the early 1980's to re-live his life as Canaan Patragas, human. This is the Canaan we all enjoy today .He will never admit to his "past" in the future as a failed robo-accountant/prostitute but it still haunts him every time he hears a dub-step song.
So next time you give him shit for hating on dub-step be a little more considerate.
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RYAN: Great question, Liz! Canadians do have a reputation of being very polite. I have heard many theory's on why this is, from we are insecure and just want everyone to like us to the possibility that we are just a simple people. Neither of these ideas are very flattering for us. Sadly though, the real reason isn't what you might expect..
Canadians are very polite but we have not always been this way. From the time we were established as our own country all the way up until the 1920's we were much different. We were a very angry people. We hated the world and everything that lived on it. Things were really dark up here and at the rate we were going, not many believed that we would last on our own for much longer. That was until a women named Emily Watson decided that a change needed to happen, and because of her that happened.
In 1927, Emily invented the the Cultured Chip, which was more commonly known as the C-Chip. The C-Chip was a small chip that was placed into new born babys just a few hours after they were born. This was done simply by making a small incission in the back of the childs head no more then a half a inch long and the chip was gently inserted. The way this chip worked was it would send vibrations to the area of the brain that make us act ignorant. The vibrations are believed to loosen up stress in the brain which causes us to go against our natural, evil instinct.
Even today, we still use the C-Chip. Though many Canadians feel it is wrong, overall most Canadians have accepted that it is for the greater good.
Thank you again for your question, Liz. We sincerely appreciate it.
|How did you not notice this before??|
IAN: Ryan, thank you for this simply malignant question! The answer, not unlike the litter boxes I spent this summer scooping out, contains many layers, stacked and cradled and coated with ammonia. To respond as a representative of my environment, the easy answer is yes.
While the cats for whom I had the pleasure of entering humiliating servitude were provided with an array of differently styled, sized and colored boxes and pans to contain their "leftovers", the lot often opted to claim, climb, clamber over one or two particular boxes, each attempting to outdo the last competitor in consistency, potency, and fiber count. And during playtime, a box would invariably be knocked over, scattering the clumps both large and big. So their touring vehicle essentially did become one gigantic litter box. One that I spent pretty much every night sleeping in, and very rarely sleeping straight through. It was not uncommon for me to wake at some point in the night with litter kicked onto my face or occasionally, a little drop of dropping just within wafting range. And woe to the traveler without the foresight and wherewithal to keep one's possessions of reach, out of sight and out and the line of fire. I am the...er... providential owner of luggage so stained with urine that it sets off TSA detectors!
One gigantic one sounds like an ideal solution, but it wouldn't even contain the amount of samples provided in one 24 hour period by the cats I know. So I checked around the Circus community for some alternate solutions.
In Key West, the famed Catman has taught his troupe to neatly package all leavings into 99% biodegradable (1% deplorable) bags and fling them carelessly and surreptitiously into the Ocean at night, long after the tourists have bedded for the evening. The famed Gregory Popvich in Las Vegas has his numerous, scantily-and-chantilly-clad assistants collect, clean and convertthe brown matter into a low grade energy source that powers their nightly marquee. And this is just stateside. I am in the midst of cracking the secret of the world renowned Moscow Cat Circus's methodology. All I know as of now is that it is an extension of their training techniques used to encourage the felines to perform. If I were to offer any early hypotheses, I would venture that Moscow cats are trained not to poop. Now let us never speak of this again.
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