Let's face it: sometimes robots just can't bee trusted...
21/05/15 11:45
I probably forgot to mention that, beefore this complicated mess with Canfield started, I had asked him if he would help me keep track of all my honey and help me make sure all of my bills are paid.
"Bert," I asked him (that's when it was still okay to call him "Bert"), "since you're an Artificially Intelligent Robot Bee, I'm gonna guess that you're very good with numbers, right?"
"Correct," he said. "My extensive programming includes a variety of applicable algorithms which make me uniquely qualified to calculate complex numerical equations with ease."
"That's what I thought. Good," I said, then I asked him if he'd consider handling the buzziness end of things for me.
"I would bee pleased to assist you," he told me.
Since then, Canfield (or, as I have started calling him again, Bert) has been doing a great job of making sure all of my bills are paid, that I know how much honey I have on hand and has even been dealing with all that mail that I simply don't have time to open and read.
Well, it appears I have a slight problem.
This morning, Bert walked in and said, "A deficiency in your accounted honey balances has been detected. It is recommended that you make immediate arrangements to rectify this situation to assure that you are able to continue sustaining yourself in the lifestyle to which you have beecome accustomed."
"Why?" I asked. "Are you telling me that I've run out of honey?"
Bert didn't say anything, but put two, big boxes on my desk.
"What are these?" I asked him.
"Included in these boxes are the necessary records for a variety of transactions made on your beehalf. The means through which of each transaction was secured, the detailed list of those with whom you conducted said transactions and the resulting Balances Due are now ready for your review and approval. It is my imperative recommendation that you reconcile these accounts at your earliest convenience."
I looked inside the first box and discovered that one was filled with a huge pile of newly-issued Credit Cards and that Bert had forged my signature on the back of every one of them, along with another pile of various Membership Cards for different organisations that are dedicated to helping save the environment, the air, the water, the land, the bees, the whales, the sea lions, the trout and tuna, the trees, dogs and cats, fighting against Humans who make and use poisons, groups that fight against a bunch of diseases and one in there for a group that's dedicated to making sure that the sound doesn't get louder on our TV's when the commercials come on. In the second box was a huge stack of Credit Card Bills which showed how much Bert had donated, in my name, to all of those worthy causes.
I just hafta say: I'm not even sure there's that much honey in the world.
Anyway. Bert just stood there, staring at me, as I went through the whole mess. When I realised what he'd done, I asked him, "And just HOW am I supposed to deal with all of this?"
I heard him making some clicking and buzzing sounds, then Bert said, "Attention: It is Thursday, May 21, 2015.The local time is precisely 9:45 and 23 seconds. The current outdoor temperature is a balmy 277.7056 degrees Kelvin. Have a nice day." Then he walked away.
Geeeeeeeze.
Can you guess what I hafta do today? I hafta deal with all of this. I think I'm gonna go back over to S.O.Bee's office and see if he'll consider adding this problem to the lawsuit we are gonna file ("Georgie A. Bee vs Canfield [aka "Bert"] and Trip Snyder, Publicist") and ask him if we can just add an "et al." to it. I mean, I don't mind contributing to a good cause, especially if it actually helps, but this is ridiculous.
So I'm gonna go do that, right after I deliver tomorrow's "Dear Georgie" column to my Editor.
I hope everybody has a tremendously superior day! I'll see ya' later!
"Bert," I asked him (that's when it was still okay to call him "Bert"), "since you're an Artificially Intelligent Robot Bee, I'm gonna guess that you're very good with numbers, right?"
"Correct," he said. "My extensive programming includes a variety of applicable algorithms which make me uniquely qualified to calculate complex numerical equations with ease."
"That's what I thought. Good," I said, then I asked him if he'd consider handling the buzziness end of things for me.
"I would bee pleased to assist you," he told me.
Since then, Canfield (or, as I have started calling him again, Bert) has been doing a great job of making sure all of my bills are paid, that I know how much honey I have on hand and has even been dealing with all that mail that I simply don't have time to open and read.
Well, it appears I have a slight problem.
This morning, Bert walked in and said, "A deficiency in your accounted honey balances has been detected. It is recommended that you make immediate arrangements to rectify this situation to assure that you are able to continue sustaining yourself in the lifestyle to which you have beecome accustomed."
"Why?" I asked. "Are you telling me that I've run out of honey?"
Bert didn't say anything, but put two, big boxes on my desk.
"What are these?" I asked him.
"Included in these boxes are the necessary records for a variety of transactions made on your beehalf. The means through which of each transaction was secured, the detailed list of those with whom you conducted said transactions and the resulting Balances Due are now ready for your review and approval. It is my imperative recommendation that you reconcile these accounts at your earliest convenience."
I looked inside the first box and discovered that one was filled with a huge pile of newly-issued Credit Cards and that Bert had forged my signature on the back of every one of them, along with another pile of various Membership Cards for different organisations that are dedicated to helping save the environment, the air, the water, the land, the bees, the whales, the sea lions, the trout and tuna, the trees, dogs and cats, fighting against Humans who make and use poisons, groups that fight against a bunch of diseases and one in there for a group that's dedicated to making sure that the sound doesn't get louder on our TV's when the commercials come on. In the second box was a huge stack of Credit Card Bills which showed how much Bert had donated, in my name, to all of those worthy causes.
I just hafta say: I'm not even sure there's that much honey in the world.
Anyway. Bert just stood there, staring at me, as I went through the whole mess. When I realised what he'd done, I asked him, "And just HOW am I supposed to deal with all of this?"
I heard him making some clicking and buzzing sounds, then Bert said, "Attention: It is Thursday, May 21, 2015.The local time is precisely 9:45 and 23 seconds. The current outdoor temperature is a balmy 277.7056 degrees Kelvin. Have a nice day." Then he walked away.
Geeeeeeeze.
Can you guess what I hafta do today? I hafta deal with all of this. I think I'm gonna go back over to S.O.Bee's office and see if he'll consider adding this problem to the lawsuit we are gonna file ("Georgie A. Bee vs Canfield [aka "Bert"] and Trip Snyder, Publicist") and ask him if we can just add an "et al." to it. I mean, I don't mind contributing to a good cause, especially if it actually helps, but this is ridiculous.
So I'm gonna go do that, right after I deliver tomorrow's "Dear Georgie" column to my Editor.
I hope everybody has a tremendously superior day! I'll see ya' later!