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I had a sex robot once. It insisted on marriage. Then divorced me.
You had a lucky escape, I can imagine the pure tedium of being married to a Sex Robot, with the thing (lets call her Rachel just so she has a name) constantly wittering on about her need for more WD40, how you don't listen to her anymore, repeatedly asking you to put that Dr Who story "The Robots of Death" on again. Coming home and finding her in a compromising situation with the Hoover, the bloody Hoover of all things, hasn't even got a personality.
You had a lucky escape, I can imagine the pure tedium of being married to a Sex Robot, with the thing (lets call her Rachel just so she has a name) constantly wittering on about her need for more WD40, how you don't listen to her anymore, repeatedly asking you to put that Dr Who story "The Robots of Death" on again. Coming home and finding her in a compromising situation with the Hoover, the bloody Hoover of all things, hasn't even got a personality.
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