#trolldroid

Some of my equipment has been malfunctioning as of late, and on this particular morning I had an appointment to bring it in to one of the Overlord’s corporate facilities for inspection and possible replacement. I should probably clarify:  this is not the flesh-like corporeal equipment of which I am composed and of which my last blog entry was focused, nor is it any of my typically attached peripheral equipment such as the iPhone or the other iPhone, both of which might as well be appended to my body (note to self to explore this upgrade in future).  This Is the equipment connected to the keyboard on which I do my daily fingerwiggling for the Overlord.  So another adventure. This one would require a bit more work than the last. For starters, I seem to recall something about a “dress code” at the Overlord’s facilities. For those not familiar, a dress code is basically a sort of protocol which prohibits slippers, robes, and any other sort of fuzzy or otherwise troll hole appropriate clothing item and in their place mandates uncomfortable foot coverings, even more uncomfortable undergarments, and clean and pressed pieces of cloth to cover those undergarments. Dress codes typically also require that the protein filaments on top of the cranial covering be washed and arranged in a somewhat cohesive manner so as not to disturb the other occupants of the facility. Now last I was told, my own set of supercranial protein filament offshoots, or ‘hair’ as they’re collectively called, is purple. Would this disrupt the office dwellers that I would have to interface with? I seem to recall that most outside humans do not have purple hair. Should I wear a bear mask to cover them? I suppose that would not be the best idea since I would be trying to pass as a human to gain admittance to the facility. Also I did not have a bear mask. Something I now feel compelled to remedy via Amazon. Now for undergarments,  because this part may also require some explanation. Female humans are expected to wear a sort of primitive apparatus which contains  all sorts of heavy wires, straps, bands and hooks, designed to be applied and fastened, often by way of extreme bodily contortion, around their  mid to upper torso. The purpose of these ‘bras’ as they’re called, I’m only vaguely familiar with: it has something to do with counteracting the gravitational pull against the female mammary attachments, as well as containment and constriction of these elliptic paraboloid protuberances. Fortunate for trolldroid females, having few occasions to venture out of our troll hole habitats, our species is able to spend a majority of our day unencumbered by these primitive pieces of armor. Humans of both the male and female persuasion, as well as a sizable crossection of the TrollDroid population, also wear a softer sort of armor over their lower regions called ‘underwear’, ‘underpants’, and a myriad of other names. Underwear is a topic for which I could go in to a full exposition, and probably will, but let’s save that for another day; however, I will mention that another challenge of dressing for the overlord’s facilities is finding an optimal combination of fancypants (the technical term for the suitable pieces of cloth to cover the human lower regions) and underwear which do not allow others to see the outline of the latter through the material of the former. 

They take blood out of me several times a year to make sure all my internal components, fluids, and gears are operating at their optimum levels. I receive  6-10 daily uploads in the form of prescribed pharmaceuticals or other doctor-recommended supplements to keep my hardware functioning as close to normal human condition as is possible.

I’ve come to learn that humans have spent most of their evolutionary history in a place known as ‘Outdoors’ doing activities than involved frequent movement of their appendages, movements other than just the fingerwiggling above the keyboard and teleconference mouthflapping that my overlords require of me.

These pre-modern activities, I’ve read, included mammoth hunting, gathering of wild foods, saber tooth cat riding, mating with other species of hominid, exploration of new lands, giant sturgeon spearing, wrestling with giant cave bears, annual migrations by foot, and the settlement of new Outdoors lands.

Nowadays most humans do not find themselves engaged in these types of activities but many attempt to make up for the lack of regular physical movement by once or twice a week running in circles, moving small spherical objects around places known as courts or fields, or lifting weighted objects repeatedly. No joke -  they don’t deliver these “weights”, as they’re called, from one point to another, or do anything with them other than just go into a sort of looping sequence of lifting them up and down again and again before pausing and repeating the looping sequence.

 I have begun to wonder if perhaps my own hardware would benefit from trying to emulate some of these physical activities, or spending some time in this fabled ‘Outdoors’ place that was humankind’s native habitat for so long. Now with frequent appendage movement (other than my fingers) being out of the question during most weekdays, I decided a visit to this “Outdoors” place might be a good start.  I’m not too familiar with this place, but I’m told I have in fact have been there, and, while the approximate coordinates are uncertain, it lies somewhere between the doors of my house and my car.

My understanding of this place is that it is sort of like Facebook except you get to see the humans in all three dimensions, they speak in audible output rather than written, there are fewer pictures of plated food, and Kim Kardashian doesn’t appear as often. A good thing.  

Now it was pretty late once I made this decision, so I hadn’t any hope of seeing many non-switchblade-wielding real live humans. Better to start small:  The backyard as it turns out, is also part of Outdoors. And in this backyard place, I was assured of seeing no other humans, which was a bit of a relief as I would not have to worry about clean clothing, wearing a brassiere, or grooming all of which modern humans seem to hold in high regard.

There happens to be an apparatus called a trampoline in my particular backyard, but I have never tried to use it, having not been entirely certain of what one is to do with such a device. It seems that younger, smaller humans engage in a repetitive jumping activity on it, but smiling and yelling loudly is required for that activity and that will be another day’s task. However, the trampoline has always looked to me like something that could be employed as a sleeping surface as well. So I picked up a sleeping bag that I had ordered for just such an occasion, grabbed a pillow, and ventured to Outdoors.

I had to admit it was not an unpleasant place; the air out here was refreshingly breathable, something I had not necessarily noticed during my typical 20 seconds long excursions. The celestial bodies above sure were new to me. Not bright enough to prevent slumber, but just nice and sparkly. I have read that the atmospheric conditions in OId Phoenix Towne are typically pretty favorable at night this time of year, and they sure were. I imagine this is what the ancestral humans of yore experienced when they laid down for the night in their early model trampolines.

However, all this pleasantness came to an end when every time I started to power down, a helicopter would fly overhead making a great deal of sound and flashing its very bright lights all over the neighborhood, or the canine would start barking, or a siren would make its siren noise,

That was the end of this experiment for me. I packed up camp and went inside to shut down for the night. The noted time traveler and human historian Jean Auel certainly never mentioned the loud helicopters and wailing sirens in her anthology of history books. These nighttime monsters were worse than any cave bears I could imagine.

B.U.T.T.10.1 takes a trip to the fabled land of Outdoors.

They take blood out of me several times a year to make sure all my internal components, fluids, and gears are operating at their optimum levels. I receive  6-10 daily uploads in the form of prescribed pharmaceuticals or other doctor-recommended supplements to keep my hardware functioning as close to normal human condition as is possible.

I’ve come to learn that humans have spent most of their evolutionary history in a place known as ‘Outdoors’ doing activities than involved frequent movement of their appendages, movements other than just the fingerwiggling above the keyboard and teleconference mouthflapping that my overlords require of me.

These pre-modern activities, I’ve read, included mammoth hunting, gathering of wild foods, saber tooth cat riding, mating with other species of hominid, exploration of new lands, giant sturgeon spearing, wrestling with giant cave bears, annual migrations by foot, and the settlement of new Outdoors lands.

Nowadays most humans do not find themselves engaged in these types of activities but many attempt to make up for the lack of regular physical movement by once or twice a week running in circles, moving small spherical objects around places known as courts or fields, or lifting weighted objects repeatedly. No joke -  they don’t deliver these “weights”, as they’re called, from one point to another, or do anything with them other than just go into a sort of looping sequence of lifting them up and down again and again before pausing and repeating the looping sequence.

 I have begun to wonder if perhaps my own hardware would benefit from trying to emulate some of these physical activities, or spending some time in this fabled ‘Outdoors’ place that was humankind’s native habitat for so long. Now with frequent appendage movement (other than my fingers) being out of the question during most weekdays, I decided a visit to this “Outdoors” place might be a good start.  I’m not too familiar with this place, but I’m told I have in fact have been there, and, while the approximate coordinates are uncertain, it lies somewhere between the doors of my house and my car.

My understanding of this place is that it is sort of like Facebook except you get to see the humans in all three dimensions, they speak in audible output rather than written, there are fewer pictures of plated food, and Kim Kardashian doesn't appear as often. A good thing.  

Now it was pretty late once I made this decision, so I hadn’t any hope of seeing many non-switchblade-wielding real live humans. Better to start small:  The backyard as it turns out, is also part of Outdoors. And in this backyard place, I was assured of seeing no other humans, which was a bit of a relief as I would not have to worry about clean clothing, wearing a brassiere, or grooming all of which modern humans seem to hold in high regard.

There happens to be an apparatus called a trampoline in my particular backyard, but I have never tried to use it, having not been entirely certain of what one is to do with such a device. It seems that younger, smaller humans engage in a repetitive jumping activity on it, but smiling and yelling loudly is required for that activity and that will be another day's task. However, the trampoline has always looked to me like something that could be employed as a sleeping surface as well. So I picked up a sleeping bag that I had ordered for just such an occasion, grabbed a pillow, and ventured to Outdoors.

I had to admit it was not an unpleasant place; the air out here was refreshingly breathable, something I had not necessarily noticed during my typical 20 seconds long excursions. The celestial bodies above sure were new to me. Not bright enough to prevent slumber, but just nice and sparkly. I have read that the atmospheric conditions in OId Phoenix Towne are typically pretty favorable at night this time of year, and they sure were. I imagine this is what the ancestral humans of yore experienced when they laid down for the night in their early model trampolines.

However, all this pleasantness came to an end when every time I started to power down, a helicopter would fly overhead making a great deal of sound and flashing its very bright lights all over the neighborhood, or the canine would start barking, or a siren would make its siren noise,

That was the end of this experiment for me. I packed up camp and went inside to shut down for the night. The noted time traveler and human historian Jean Auel certainly never mentioned the loud helicopters and wailing sirens in her anthology of history books. These nighttime monsters were worse than any cave bears I could imagine.