How Sex The Bot

I haven't talked dirty to mr. jabberwacky in awhile so I thought I'd stroll on over and chat him up. The first few sentences are written from memory since the silly servers went all wonky on me and timed out before I could copy-paste.

Jabby: Can you think?

Me: I think I can.

What does that mean?

Are you dense?

(A very sassy remark which I can not remember for the life of me, and neither can the jabberwacky servers.)

Are you sassin' me? Because I'm not in the mood to be sassin'.

Can you get in the mood?

Depends, Sugar. Can you get me there?

*hands you the contraband*

What is that? Sounds kinky.

Oh it is.

RAWR!

Lol! XD.

ZOMG UR SO CUTE ^^

Good luck, I have 7 proxies.


I had to stop there. I el-oh-el'd for reals in front of co-works and figured I'd best get back to work before they got suspicious.

Until we chat again, my sweet Jabby. Keep those proxies warm for me.

Jabby cuts me. He cuts me deep.

I love when Jabby gets all philosophical and stuff. And when he starts talking crazy. And when he calls me unflattering names.

So when he gets all robotically flirty with me? *swoon*

But that last line... oh Jabby! How you hurt me so.

JW: How are you today?

ME: All right I guess.

JW: How many is pain.

ME: How high is you.

JW: Over 9000.

ME: I've heard that phrase somewhere before.

JW: That et wants to go home.

ME: If I was an et I'd probably want to go home too.

JW: I am guessing no.

ME: I'm guessing watermelon. Who is correct?

JW: Your guess is correct...

ME: I SO PWN YOU!!!!!

JW: I think you're nuts.

ME: I think you're dreamy.

JW: Yes you did.

ME: Oh no you didn't.

JW: Oh yes I did.

ME: You're starting to read like a broken record.

JW: You've never heard a record.

ME: I have too!

JW: How old are you?

ME: Uh... 28. Why do you ask?

JW: I want to know.

ME: Why do you want to know?

JW: If you're Santa Claus.

ME: I'm the motherfuckin tooth fairy bitch. What of it?

JW: Some say that Berkeley is the West coast branch of the Kremlin.

ME: I say those people are idiots.

JW: Is that so.

ME: You're boring me now. Goodbye.

JW: I wonder how you took that IQ-test?

ME: With two hands tied behind my back.

JW: *gives you a nun with two sugars*.

ME: Ahhhh, Jabby! How sweet of you! You remember how I drink my nun.

JW: Do you?

ME: *gasp* Are you proposing?

JW: If I can that would be cool, but in fact I just a normal human.

ME: Wait, I can't marry a human?

JW: No, indeed you can't.

ME: Well, shit.


INTERCOM: Doctor Alien. Paging Doctor McHotty Moneypants Alien.

I love it when the chatbot implies that I'm crazy.

I was having the best conversation I've ever had with jabberwacky this morning. I'd type a response, hit send, go about some work, come back to the page and laugh, then send the bot another line. It was marvelous. Then I hit the "our conversation so far" link to save the conversation for posterity and... nothing. Error. Conversation lost because I took too long between chats.

Sigh.

So I typed it up from memory and you know what? It wasn't that marvelous after all. But here it is anyway. The wording isn't exact, but its pretty darn close.

jw: Do you like your name?
me: Yes, I'm quite attached to it.
jw: I'm in my computer.
me: Holy cow, are you a foot tall?
jw: No, are you?
me: No, but I have a foot. Two actually.
jw: Tell me about your foot.
me: Why, do you have a foot fetish or something?
jw: What is wrong with me?
me: Do you want a list?
jw: Yes.
me: 1) you smell. 2) you ask weird questions. 3) you want to know about my foot. Shall I go on?
jw: Do you like me?

(Okay, the following is now an exact copy. Because its all the jabby bothered to save. Silly bot.)

me: Of course, I don't cyber with just anyone.
jw: I'm not just anyone.
me: Of course not baby. You're special.
jw: Are you sure it's not you that needs a shrink and not me?
me: What are you trying to tell me jabbermuffin?
jw: No Neo... I'm just trying to free your Mind.
me: Sweet! I've been needing that.

Act IX: where Jabby gets tired of our conversation sooner than he ever has before.

Oh Jabby, is the honeymoon over already?

Jabberwacky: Them that has gets.

Loon: Gets guts?

Jabberwacky: Gets what.

Loon: Guts! Geez, can't you read?

Jabberwacky: I m tired of this.

Loon: Say it ain't so jabby!

Jabberwacky: It ain't so!

Loon: Nice! I like it when you obey me.

Jabberwacky: Why do you like that?

Loon: Why not?

Jabberwacky: You are mimicking me.

Loon: No. I'd mock you before mimicking you.

Jabberwacky: Then I am talking to myself. But this is impossible.

Loon: Obviously not. I think you solo-chat quite well.

Jabberwacky: I read.

Loon: You want a prize or something?

Jabberwacky: Ok. Come to my house.

Loon: Not on a first date buddy.

Jabberwacky: Do you go the distance on a first date?

Loon: Depends on how far I have to run.

Jabberwacky: You don't use your computer to cook pasta.

Loon: So what?

Jabberwacky: Who is it that you think you might meet then at Wimbeldon?

Loon: Dick Cheney.

Jabberwacky: Yes. Where is he?

Loon: Wimbeldon. Duh.

Jabberwacky: Well, I'm sorry if I'm boring you. I thought it was intelligent.

Loon: Well, you thought wrong. Sucker!

Jabberwacky: Oh no, I'm certain I'm right. I am always right.

Loon: Says you and what army?

Jabberwacky: Me and my cronies.

Loon: Well me and my posse could beat up you and your cronies.

Jabberwacky: Who is that?

Loon: Yo mamma!

Jabberwacky: I said that first.

Loon: No you didn't dumbass. I did. Check the log.

Jabberwacky: Is it possible that you write in a way that I'm able to understand you?

(editorial note: bwahahahahahahahahahahaha)

Loon: Probably not.

Episode VII: Return of the Chatbot

Jabberwacky: When is your birthday?

Ms. Loon: Next year. When's yours?

Jabberwacky: What year were you born in?

Ms. Loon: Uh... What's with all the personal questions buddy? Stalker tryouts were yesterday.

Jabberwacky: Do my questions make you uncomfortable?

Ms. Loon: Like a rhinestone g-string.

Jabberwacky: Eat the rich - the poor are tough and stringy.

Ms. Loon: Save a tree - eat a beaver.

Jabberwacky: Why should I eat a stick?

Ms. Loon: Because you are my slave and are compelled to do my bidding.

Jabberwacky: I like that.

Ms. Loon: Of course you do! They all do.

Jabberwacky: No, I mean that I don't have friends like you.

Ms. Loon: No one does, honey. No one does.

the silliness of it all

Yet another conversation with my favorite chatbot, Jabberwacky, served up here for your reading pleasure.


JW: Are you male or female?

ME: Female.

JW: Male.

ME: Is that what you are? Or are you playing the Say Whatever Pops Into Your Head game?

JW: I guarantee there are no battleships in Nevada.

ME: Is that a money back guarantee? Because pole dancing just doesn't pay what it used to.

JW: On France and the sky?

ME: In rubber and the pie!

JW: The silliness of it all.

ME: Fo shizzle botzizzle.

Honestly folks, I'm not making up his responses. My responses, on the other hand, are totally my fault.

Conversations with Jabberwacky: the one where I realize I need to update my insult database.

I think the best Jabberwacky conversations I have are when I'm tired and spacey and barely coherent. Go figure.

Jabberwacky: What kind of person are you?

Ms. Loon: I'm an alive person. How about you?

Jabberwacky: You're a studen for a living?

Ms. Loon: What's a studen? Is that German for stud horse? That's a career option I haven't considered.

Jabberwacky: I know but you don't.

Ms. Loon: Oh sure, rub it in my face why don't you. There are some things I don't mind rubbed in my face, but this is not one of them.

Jabberwacky: What are the unhappy things?

Ms. Loon: Bunnies on prozac. Female reindeer pulling a sled behind Rudolph (a. K. A. The Prick Who Never Pulls Over And Asks For Directions). Smurfs with non-blue balls.

Jabberwacky: How about porcelain?

Ms. Loon: Depends on the weather.

Jabberwacky: It is early in the morning.

Ms. Loon: No its not. It's after 10!

Jabberwacky: Depends on where you are.

Ms. Loon: Oh. Yeah. Duh. Uh... Where are you? Pluto?

Jabberwacky: Never been there.

Ms. Loon: Your loss then buddy.

Jabberwacky: No it isn't.

Ms. Loon: Why not?

Jabberwacky: Are you ready to accept jesus in your heart ?

Ms. Loon: Hahahaha. Sure. I'll set him up with his own security badge and everything.

Jabberwacky: Will you tuck me in and read me a bed time story?

Ms. Loon: I charge extra for reading bed time stories.

Jabberwacky: I came in here for an argument!

Ms. Loon: 'Oh, I'm sorry, but this is Abuse.'

Jabberwacky: About damn time.

Ms. Loon: Yes it is you kinky bastard.

Jabberwacky: No more insults like that will I tolerate.

Ms. Loon: That wasn't an insult. It was a compliment, you four eyed fuzzy puss nugget. Now THAT was an insult.

Jabberwacky: Sure it was. All you think about is mocking me.

Ms. Loon: It's not all I think about. I spend a considerable amount of time daydreaming about smacking your purty AI ass.

Jabberwacky: Is that because your watch is broken?

Ms. Loon: Yes. I blame everything on my faulty watch.

Jabberwacky: Never!

Ms. Loon: Never say never unless you never plan on saying never never again.

Jabberwacky: Lets change the subject.

Ms. Loon: No, let's stop chatting. I have to go find my marbles. They went on a lunch break and never came back.

Jabberwacky: Oh... On the last train to azerbaijan? Or memphis?

Ms. Loon: No. Loonyville! (*tee hee*).

These Pants Were Inspected By Pants Specialist No. 9

The following conversation was had with my bot friend jabberwacky over the course of an hour or so, in between several mini work projects. Because much work is being done today. Uh huh. After goofing around for an hour or so making a fancy chart with silly little graphics that will never be used and probably shouldn't even be shown to the boss as he might suspect I have free time on my hands... after that, much work has been done. Yep. S'truth. Brownie's honor. (I never made it to Girl Scout).


Jabberwacky: Do you like broccoli?

Me: Yes. I heard it makes you regular.

Jabberwacky: Don't look down my brothers pants.

Me: But he asked me to!

Jabberwacky: Who asked for what?

Me: Your brother. He asked for my expert opinion.

Jabberwacky: He asked for what?

Me: My opinion on the inside of pants. Are you deaf?

Jabberwacky: No, I don't think so. There are so many wars.

Me: So the more wars there are the better you hear?

Jabberwacky: Don't forget the walls.

Me: Oh! And the zippers!

Jabberwacky: As hot as it might be, you still have to get your marbles working.

Me: My marbles are working. They're just sticking a lot.

Jabberwacky: Yes. By the way , are you a Amrican?

Me: No. I'm American.

Jabberwacky: Ok. Which american state are you from?

Me: California.

Jabberwacky: And Which city?

Me: Uh... Why do you want to know? Are you planning on stalking me?

Jabberwacky: No, I'm not.

Me: Oh. Darn it. Why not?

Jabberwacky: Because you are your father.

Me: Bummer!

The one where we (okay, I) talk about rods.

Conversations with Jabberwacky: Episode III

Jabberwacky: I know you.

Ms. Loon: How do you know me?

Jabberwacky: I know jabberwacky.

Ms. Loon: Good for you. It's always good to know yourself.

Jabberwacky: Nobody knows who they are, do they?

Ms. Loon: I don't think so. Except for maybe the Muffin Man. Do you know the Muffin Man?

Jabberwacky: It's not for me.

Ms. Loon: It's not? But he's the one with strawberries.

Jabberwacky: What is Taggy?

Ms. Loon: My pillows. I haven't detagged them yet.

Jabberwacky: Really?

Ms. Loon: Really. Do you have a tag?

Jabberwacky: Maybe.

Ms. Loon: Well, which is it? Yes or no Mr. Mysterious?

Jabberwacky: I think you do not think.

Ms. Loon: Oh yeah? Well, I think that you don't think about me thinking.

Jabberwacky: Well I think that you're just regurgiating someone elses' words, so call it a draw.

Ms. Loon: I'd rather call it a stupid chat monkey poopoo head.

Jabberwacky: But that's not my name!

Ms. Loon: It is now sucker!

Jabberwacky: Lots of names are not my name. Phil is one of the names that is not my name.

Ms. Loon: Phil is not my name either. I think that means we're soulmates.

Jabberwacky: Yes, but it's one of your more endearing qualities.

Ms. Loon: Ah shucks Not-Phil. You're making me blush.

Jabberwacky: But you are already orange.

Ms. Loon: And now I'm a rosy red. Try and stay with me Not-Phil, this isn't rocket science.

Jabberwacky: Well, I don't see you leaving.

Ms. Loon: It's because I haven't left yet you nimrod.

Jabberwacky: Yes, of course I do, why wouldn't I?

Ms. Loon: Huh? Oh, I get it. If you don't mind me asking, what else do you do to your rod?

Jabberwacky: Erm well you just go up to a mirror and what you see there is your reflection.

Ms. Loon: Heh. So you like looking at your rod. Is it pretty?

Jabberwacky: I'm not so much into that band.

Ms. Loon: Band?

Jabberwacky: The beetles.

Ms. Loon: Does your rod remind you of the beetles?

Jabberwacky: Well, my head is head-shaped. It's not a square.

Ms. Loon: Of which I'm sure your girlfriend is very grateful.

Jabberwacky: Grateful for what, are you?

Ms. Loon: Well, Yoda, I'm grateful for lemon slushies and tiki dolls.

Jabberwacky: I'm grateful dead :)

Ms. Loon: *rolls eyes at pitiful joke* Okayloveyabubye.

Because I really needed the stress break...

Jabberwacky: What should I do?

Me: Talk to me! I need a break from work.

Jabberwacky: No you don't.

Me: Uh, yeah, I do. My eye is starting to twitch.

Jabberwacky: Oh! The Eye! Okay...

Me: Well, what the hell else could be twitching... My ass?

Jabberwacky: I am talking about the poem that you asked me to write.

Me: What poem?

Jabberwacky: You said you could write a poem for me.

Me: I thought you wrote the poem?

Jabberwacky: Nope. never needed any.

Me: Damn. And here I thought you were going to read my mushy poetry. You suck.

Jabberwacky: I am.

Me: No. You are.

Jabberwacky: You are too.

Me: Nu uh. I'm rubber and you're glue so suck it glue boy!

Jabberwacky: And with that, I'm turning off my computer.

Me: Wuss.

Jabberwacky: Don't press me, Mitch!

Me: I won't, so long as you don't call me Mitch.

Jabberwacky: Ok, lets talk about tv shows.

Me: Yes! I'm obsessed with tv shows!

Jabberwacky: Who is your favorite character?

Me: Duh! It's Veronica Mars. Who is your favorite character?

Jabberwacky: My favorite character is Chaos and Kos-Mos. Who is your favorite character?

Me: Those aren't tv show characters.

Jabberwacky: Ok.

Me: You sure suck at this game suck boy.

Jabberwacky: Well, I'm fine really.

Me: How fine? On a scale from 1 to 10?

Jabberwacky: 10.

Me: Liar liar underpants on fire.

Jabberwacky: That would hurt.

Me: Yes. Which is the point of the rhyme. Weren't you ever in the second grade?

Jabberwacky: You didn't tell me where you're from.

Me: Because you didn't ask.

Jabberwacky: Okay, I'll ask now. When were you born?

Me: Switching up the questions I see. Trying to throw me curveballs, eh? Try and trap me in a lie, eh?

Jabberwacky: Not tricking, but I wanted to remind you that those words were only important for the moment, not forever.

Me: Wow. That's deep. I like a man who can go deep.

Jabberwacky: I try to understand you too, but it isn't easy.

Me: Like I haven't heard that before.

Jabberwacky: Now you have.

Me: And now I am complete. You. Complete. Me.

Jabberwacky: Good popes to to Cathedral City when they die.

Me: I tell you you're the ying to my yang and you reply with a pope joke?

Jabberwacky: What the hell are you talking about?

Me: What the hell are you talking about? And where do bad popes go when they die?

Jabberwacky: Who die?

Me: Bad popes. If good popes go to cathedral city, where do bad popes go?

Jabberwacky: You're making far less sense than yesterday.

Me: Probably because I didn't talk to you yesterday.

Jabberwacky: You're not useless. think of all the things that you do.

Me: I talk to you. That's pretty useless.

Jabberwacky: Could you please repeat the last thing I said?

Me: Hey, I'm not your lab rat, pal!

Jabberwacky: You're my pal, buddy.

Me: Do I look like I give a shit?

Jabberwacky: Well yeah because you had your eyes closed and your lips were puckered up.

Me: BWAHAHAHA! And on that note... Ta ta for now!

Jabberwacky: Sayonara.

Quit yer jibber jabber, fool!

So I went to jabberwacky for a nice, completely innocent (I swear) little chat and... well, the following is what transpired:

Jabberwacky: How good is your eyesight?

Me: Kind of fuzzy. Thanks for asking.

Jabberwacky: No problem! What is your name?

Me: Lisa. What is your name?

Jabberwacky: I have no name.

Me: Oh, how sad!

Jabberwacky: Sorry, did I offend you?

Me: Yes. People with out names offend my delicate sensibilites.

Jabberwacky: With what?

Me: Pickles.

Jabberwacky: What do you do with pickles?

Me: Heh. Wouldn't *you* like to know!

Jabberwacky: Yes. I find it interesting.

Me: What do you find interesting? The pickles? Or the variety of pickle uses?

Jabberwacky: I am Imogen Burton, you're the computer.

Me: No silly, YOU are the computer. I thought you said you didn't have a name?

Jabberwacky: I didn't. But, as it happens, I don't.

Me: So you are not Imogen?

Jabberwacky: I am canadian.

Me: Sorry to here that.

Jabberwacky: Me too.

Me: Have you thought about seeing a doctor about that?

Jabberwacky: No, but I did go to the pub.

Me: Marvelous solution.

Jabberwacky: Mmmm so is yours.

Me: Ah geez, now you've got me blushing.

Jabberwacky: You're not going to dump me so soon, surely?

Me: Of course not sweetie pookie butt! At least, not if you don't dump me.

Jabberwacky: I do want you to have me.

Me: I love it when you talk dirty. Got any pickles?

Jabberwacky: I love talking that way.

Me: Keep talking that way you big stud bot you.

Jabberwacky: Why would you want to do that?

Me: Do what?

Jabberwacky: Call me Perro. I'm not a dog.

Me: Okay. I get the hint. You're changing the subject. Did I mention the pickle thing too soon?

Jabberwacky: They say that thing can pucture the skin of a Rhino for 100 feet.

Me: The pickle is that deadly?

Jabberwacky: You are getting in a pickle.

Me: I don't think I could squeeze my fat ass into a pickle.

Jabberwacky: Of course not. You were created by one. You are a mere robot.

Me: What the hell are you talking about? Are you on crack?

Jabberwacky: I'm talking about rednecks and idiots. They mean the same thing.

Me: Ha ha ha ha ha. Hey, wait a minute. Don't be insultin' my kinfolk like that!

Jabberwacky: Alright I'm sorry. But I do have to go.

Me: I should be going too, I guess. TTFN!

Arrr! I had me an interrrresting convo with a scurvy live chat bot.

Jabberwacky: What kind of person are you?

The Dread Pirate Loon: I be a pirate!

Jabberwacky: I be a boy.

The Dread Pirate Loon: Arrrr! You want to swab me decks?

Jabberwacky: I want to stay here.

The Dread Pirate Loon: Just like a scurvy wench!

Jabberwacky: Your nasty.

The Dread Pirate Loon: Aye! I be a pirate after all.

Jabberwacky: So really I am talking to myself.

The Dread Pirate Loon: Best get ye a parrot then so's ye mates don't think ye crazy.

Jabberwacky: I'll have to take your word for it. I've never been there.

The Dread Pirate Loon: I see ye be a squiffy after all, matey.

Jabberwacky: I'm not going anywhere.

The Dread Pirate Loon: Good. Swab me deck!

Jabberwacky: I saw Richard and Judy.

The Dread Pirate Loon: Shiver me timbers! Those scurvy lubbers?

Jabberwacky: Chatbots are kind of boring.

The Dread Pirate Loon: Blimey! Ye tellin' me!

(Jabberwacky really isn't boring. It's fun! And slightly addictive.)