Robot sex? R2D2 could have done a bet­ter job!

Midweek Sport - - SPORT -

DES­PER­ATE dad Ty­rone kid­napped baby Ruby and did a run­ner from Corona­tion Street.

He chose to lay low in North Wales, which was a ge­nius move.

The po­lice could do all the tele­vised ap­peals they like but no­body in An­gle­sey would ever see it. They’re all too busy watch­ing Pobol y Cwm, which is par­tic­u­larly grip­ping this week (with the price of heat­ing oil in­creased by 2p per litre, care home man­ager Eryl is con­sid­er­ing whether to change his sup­plier).

Sadly he was dobbed in by fel­low fugi­tive Fiz, the Bon­nie to his Clyde – although she looks more like the Clyde to his Philo Bed­doe in Any Which Way But Loose.

Now poor Ty is in real trou­ble – as­sum­ing the Welsh agree to his ex­tra­dite him to Eng­land. THE first se­ries of the bril­liant

kicked off with a bloke be­ing forced to f*** an ac­tual pig – and man­ag­ing to do the deed.

The sec­ond se­ries, on Chan­nel 4 this week, be­gan with a dif­fer­ent chap be­ing asked very nicely to f*** the gor­geous Hay­ley Atwell – and the dozy bas­tard couldn’t get it up!

Je­sus, talk about an in­jus­tice. No won­der peo­ple say this dark sci-fi show is up­set­ting. I cried my­self to sleep over that one.

The dweeb in ques­tion was Ash (Domh­nall Glee­son), a tech-ad­dict more in­ter­ested in stroking his smart­phone than his mis­sus Martha (Atwell).

When Ash dies in a car crash, Martha turns to com­puter wiz­ardry to bring him back to “life”.

Spe­cial soft­ware cre­ates an on­line ver­sion of Ash which uses old emails, Tweets, Face­book up­dates and the like to copy his per­son­al­ity and com­mu­ni­cate with loved ones.

The ba­sic level “Ash” can only send emails but griev­ing Martha soon up­grades to the ad­vanced package, in ev­ery sense of the word: a per­fectly real­is­tic robot-doll which looks, talks and walks ex­actly like her dead fella.

In fact, this one is even bet­ter be­cause it has no “floppy disk” is­sues, achiev­ing a stiffy at the touch of a but­ton. I guess you would call that an iRec­tion.

“I per­form a set rou­tine based on porno­graphic videos,” said Robot Ash, which is not a chat-up line that has ever worked for me.

Any­way, it must have been some retro porn he up­loaded be­cause he just did her vig­or­ously in the mis­sion­ary po­si­tion.

What, no A2M? No DP? Not even a pop shot?

It was sup­posed to be a fu­tur­is­tic drama but this robot was f***ing like my old ZX Spec­trum.


Even­tu­ally Martha grew tired of her com­put­erised man and just kept him in the at­tic for week­ends and spe­cial oc­ca­sions.

That seemed like a waste of cash, as we were told that Robot Ash was very ex­pen­sive.

That is why I am de­vel­op­ing a bud­get ver­sion for men who can­not af­ford to pay top dol­lar for a hi-tech robot doll.

So it’s ba­si­cally a jiffy bag full of chopped liver and a Tomy Speak & Spell. RRP £49.99.

Per­fect for if your mis­sus dies, or just pops out to the shops for ten min­utes.

Do you want one?

ITV2 promised to tell the story of 911 on



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