join the car crash set
With the collapse of the robot fighting boom, hundreds of guys who thought
adding a buzzsaw to an RC car was a good idea are now left with nowhere to
go, and that’s why the Immaculate Conception over in Gilbertville started
offering Robotic Ballroom dances, where Crushinator and Ki111zzz0r can
compete for a ten dollar grand prize through an intricate series of passes
and spins across the hardwood gym floor. I used to go sit up in the
lightbox and get high, just like high school, watching the unsocialized
fumble through first mistakes and obvious fumblings, only now it’s all
mechanized, which probably is for the best, as nobody’s getting pregnant
at Robotic Ballroom Night. Today, however, Cecelia and I and Rissa entered
our own robot, which is an actual proper robot without any sort of remote
control hoo-hah, and oh man, if you ever need a cheap and ultimately
meaningless boost in your morale, go spend an evening with a gaggle of
pubescent pre-engineers, but in the end it was all for naught, as out
robot (the Gynosphere) accidentally drilled its way through the floor and
into the cafeteria. I’m sure peanut gallery Freudians will have plenty to
say on that, but not nearly as much as Sister Mary Catherine, who barred
us for life from the RoboDances. Which, again, as I said, is probably for
the best. (ljcomments)
(12:13.05.19.2005) [/ana] #