A writer once sought to amuse
But her laptop, to function, refused.
She’d turn it on late
Just to catch an “update.”
-Thus, the fate of a tool that is used.
There once was a man named McGill
Whose life was devoid of a thrill.
He therefore applied
For a mail-order bride.
Now, married, awaits a thrill, still.
Young Charlie perpet’ally moaned
For, he hated to be left alone.
“I’m scared,” he’d complain,
Till his parents remained,
Wond’ring if they could get him a clone.
There once was an eager young tot
Who asked for a working robot.
It arrived, as he wished
Babbl’ng perfect Engrish.
Now the tot’s lexicon’s about shot.