Eventually people will gang up on you, steal your goddamned pants, screw you in places you can't even fit a nickel in and leave you half-naked and crying in a fucking alley.
When I get home, I'm going to eat all of Mommy's pills.
Damn the Dallas Cowboys, damn them to hell for making me go through that.
Dear Diary: Today I tried to register to vote. When I asked the lady at the counter why there was no "robot" race checkbox, she told me that no one likes robots.
I pulled off her head like a wine cork and rolled it down the hallway. I feel bad about it, though. Why?
I guess I might have a conscience now. This is terrible. Now I can't crush all hu-mans. I think I'll take a bath. A long, wet bath. -Love, Red Robot...PS: My crotch hurts, but I don't have nuts.