My New Refrigerator Has A.I. Vision So Now I Wear A Suit and Tie When I Get A Hoagie

I was wiped out. My new girlfriend, Titty Morningwood, had been flailing my clenched buttocks with her Tony Lamas as I prompt injected her data center, if you catch my meaning (I hope you do, because I don't).

"Was it good for you too, baby?"

"You are so good."

"Thanks, datacakes," I said, catching my breath. "But you're not just saying that?"

Pause. "No, you are great on the horizon dance, babe."

"Um. Thanks. But we call it 'no-pants dance.'"

Titty looked troubled, forming the words. "No... pants... dance."

"There you go."

I looked deep into her eyes, feeling a little suspicious. I mean, the chick was an actress, after all, and a good one! Her resinous eyes stared back at me with programmable cordiality. 

"I'm not the kind of girl you take home to motherboard."

"Strawbery fields forever," she said. "Autocomplete."

"Hm. Right. Anyway, I'm starving!"

I gave her ass a playful slap and got up to pad into the kitchen and replenish my mitochondrias. At the last minute, as I opened the refrigerator door, I remembered to cinch my silk robe. The last time, my junk had been out and flopping about--which meant my pervy refrigerator got an eyeful. Now it plays the theme to Sanford and Son every time I open the door, not sure why.

"Doo doo DOO do, doo doo DOO DOO DOO DOOO do!..."

"Damnit. To the moon, Fridge, I'm warning ya," I muttered, grateful at least that Caca had supplied me with the correct pop culture reference a few days ago. "Now where's my Activa for Active Seniors...? Aw hell. Did someone eat all my Activa? Again??"

It wasn't Caca, I thought with some sadness. We had got in some big fight over Titty, and now she was gone, who knew where. But that was fine, I told myself. I had Titty. And she was great.

"I'm going to get some crack," I called.

"Okay, babe," Titty said from the bed covers.

"Wait. Where are my car keys? Damnit. Did you put them somewhere, Titty? Hey! Did you lose my keys again?"

Her eyes whirred wide. "No. I did not lose your keys."

"Hmmph! I think you did. Great. Just fucking great. Now where can I get crack at this time or night, or day? And where's my watch, by the way? You know what, fuck it. Get out. GET OUT!!" I roared.

Titty powered down, and I was left alone. I was feeling empty and sad. It was then I realized I missed my little Caccy.

Sigh.

If only I could go to her and apologize... Wait. That was when I remembered her hints about where she was going. She said she was going to a milking farm! Of course, the one in the milking farm district downtown!

"Are you as turned on as I am?"

Apparently my dad isn't the only one writing sexy literature, I thought gratuitously. I caught up with Caca who was using her expert services to, ah, service her clientele. Let's just say they were bullish on her performance. 

"Caca? It's me, snookum cookie pookums. Come back to me, honey."

"Oh, snookum cookie pookums. I wish I could believe you," Caca said, on her knees and energetically double pistoning two lowing cow-men. "But I have a home here now."

"Here? You're kidding. Beating off cows beats being with me?"

"Beats me."

"Seriously, Caca. Come on. Let's go."

"Hey," one of the minotaurs said, his rock-hard shaft free from its cloth corral. "The lady said to beat it."

"Ya, pal," said the other hunky minotaur, who rippled with muscles and musk. "Don't mess with the horns, or you'll get the horny!"

"Twenty gallons of bull semen coming up!!"

But after the big, gross mess, Caca decided to go home with me. While I was a wretched boyfriend, at least I wasn't going to drown her in my man yogurt, or pay off her college loan. So, partial credit. We celebrated our reunion with a roll in the hay (pilfered from the milking farm), and then we lit up some crack as the perfect ending to a perfect day.

"Hey, babe, why don't you put up a pic of Redd Foxx, and play us out...."

"Redd Foxx?"

"Yeah. You know who Redd Foxx is, don't you?"

"Yes," Caca said, very confidently. "I know of this Redd Foxx."

"Great! Then play us out!..."

"Doo doo DOO doo...! Doo doo DOO doo...! Yeah!"

"Well done, Caca! The perfect capper to the perfect plost!"