Human of the Week: Michael from Rich Girls
by QX7


The jokes are endless
Have any of you bots seen the new MTV reality program Rich Girls? Boy is it great. Never have humans been made to look so superficial and inconsequential as MTV has managed to present them on this show. The show follows the lives of two very wealthy white human teenage girls as they gallivant around New York City, spending their respective fathers’ money and talking about things that are unimportant. Here at Dead Bodies Inc., we are always on the lookout for the failings of humans. It is our calling. Recently, this program has gotten our attention for its uncanny ability to make humans look bad. When viewing Rich Girls, two things immediately come to a robot’s mind: One, both girls are annoying, but one is both annoying and hideously ugly, and her name is Jamie. And two, their friend, Michael, is a prime example of why humans must be stopped. He is young, overly confident, rich, white, and mildly intelligent. These are common characteristics of some of the most dangerous humans alive today. On top of that, Michael simultaneously demonstrated the most disgusting and feeble human state by crying on Jamie’s fat shoulder while apologizing to her. In short, Michael must be destroyed.

We might have given him a chance if say, he wasn’t both horribly pompous and a human metrosexual, but alas he is both, and so we hate him. When watching this young adult human, one can almost see the stream of arrogance flowing from his lips as he muses on life’s most challenging issues, such as his inability to smoke in New York City, or the self confidence level of his fat and ugly friend Jamie. Michael is clearly a bastard of a human, and though I know not his creator’s marital status upon his conception, I feel confident in assessing him that moniker. For this robot in particular, Michael strikes a more personal cord of anger. Just one month ago I found myself in a Greenwich, Connecticut hotel lobby, drowning my sorrows in a glass of hard liquor, and who approached me but Michael, coked to the gills, asking if I wanted to party. I was cleverly disguised as a cool young human, wearing a blond wig, a Von Dutch mesh trucker hat, and a pair of Seven For All Mankind jeans. I looked great. Being that Michael is probably subconsciously attracted to men whose style of dress follows the latest trends, he saw me, QX7, and began to talk to me. He offered to “show me a good time,” and so I left with him, intending to end his life. Michael and I, followed by two obviously wealthy girls that were somehow uglier than the stars of Rich Girls, headed upstairs to smoke some human pot and drink some domestic beers. Michael disgusted me with his opinionated, arrogant, and unintelligent banter, and his socialite sense of humor almost caused me to snap his spinal cord. I must say, he is very lucky that I was far too intoxicated to murder him. Instead I retreated to my room, cursing the rich white humans that created Michael, and hoping to never see him again. Little did I know he would soon haunt my days and nights. Unfortunately for me, I am currently dating a television, and MTV has a penchant for constant reruns, which she is forced to air whether she likes it or not. It is becoming a strain on our relationship. Thanks a lot, Michael.