Obviously, hands aren't the only things one can write with, but they are in vogue at the moment, and being such a fickle little human pickle, I do like all the other people around me do. I do. Computers have taken the sting out of being left-handed, which I think is a bit of a shame because lefties are obviously satan's little backroom boys and it's safer to have them in plain sight.
Robot Dogs
Can you imagine living here if was full of robot dogs?
I imagine you would like it, you contrary little sods
Normal life's not good enough for some people; you'd prefer it with more cogs
And artificial intelligence, and bloody robot dogs
If our septic little island was full of robot dogs
There'd be petrol pissing pooches chasing screeching metal mogs
Id' move out I would, I'd fucking emigrate
Because I'm not throwing iron bars for the little shits to chase
And I wouldn't share my house with something that had titanium teeth
And what would I feed the damn thing? You can't get iron beef!
Although I suppose you probably could,
because if you could get a canine robot, you could get a bovine too
and probably robot seagulls firing pellets of strontium poo
And there'd be fish and frogs and ferrets, and forests of rusty trees
And badgers and bats and dormice and rats with mechanical gnats and fleas
And a spider's web would shred off your head if you walked through it by mistake
And having to oil an otter would be as much as I could take
No, robot dogs would be a stupid move, technology gone too far
What would you do if one of those things decided to chase your car?
I'd reverse over the thing ‘til every circuit was shagged
And then I'd scoop the debris up and sell it off as scrap.