So Claire gets on the email this morning to ask the company that made us about whether our Boytoy faces might be compatible with a new body, since it really feels like our current one is wearing down and they don't manufacture our model anymore. (Which, why the hell not? Christ, people have some piss-poor taste if there wasn't enough demand to keep manufacturing such smoking-hot, fantastic-in-the-sack babes as me and Claire.)
And then when she goes to start her email -- I mean, even just write the subject line -- she starts wiffle-waffling about her shift-key hangup. Should she make herself use the shift key? Will the people at the company not take her seriously if she doesn't use it? I honestly couldn't stand even, like, two minutes of her old-lady fretty-fret-fretfulness before I said, "Just ... just get the hell out of there and let me write them."
And I did, but she was using their online "Contact Us" form, and at the bottom there's that captcha thing, and it asks me (after I've already finished typing my message, of course), to check a box for "I am not a robot."
And it takes me a second to check it, because, WTF, even though of course I am not a fucking robot, I am a sex doll, and is that close enough that I count as a robot, and of course the fuck not because they're talking about automated computer systems anyway, not robots of any physical kind at all.
Seriously, I start my day off with an existential ethics question about whether I would be breaking someone's rules if I check a goddamn box so they know I'm not trying to hack their system.
I'm turning into such a fucking sap in my old age.
