My Robot Is Pregnant theme song!

Was workin’ today, walkin to the kitchen and this lady who isn’t really my boss but is like “more important” than me asked me to wash off the lunch table. Don’t play me like that. “Where’s the studio manager?” I said, ’cause that’s her job, right? And I thought that would shut her up, like it was a one two punch, but this lady, she has an authentic Austrian accent, and she looked at me and said, “Just wash the table”, like she was Arnold Schwarzeneggar. It was like in the movies when a regular guy punches a superhero, and the regular guy hurts his fist and the superhero just laughs.

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found a great new place down in the mission. super fresh food, i tried their sopes – a fried corn tortilla the size of a silver dollar pancake with a bed of shredded lettuce, not hand ripped lettuce, but shredded up fine like important documents going in the garbage, and juicy chicken breast set on it and tucked under real thin sour cream and a pillow top of that crumbly mexican cheese. It was hella ill. Culinary madness. The chicken ejaculated her brine in my mouth. Shocker. The flatware was sturdy. Kife it – you could loose your shank and take their spoon down 16th with complete confidence. She won’t bend when she hits soft tissue, and might stick in the ribs if you really lean into it.