The Atlanta Falcons have a new guard dog, and it looks nothing like Georgia's beloved Uga XI...
Deep inside the billion-dollar sphincter, it is the dawn of a new day in Atlanta Falcons football, one that proudly features a robotic security dog that is 100 percent going to turn on Dirty Bird Nation.
Like a wacky Applebee's entree, I did not need a blood-thirsty cyborg dog "working" some four miles from my Virginia-Highland apartment. It was built to keep us safe, but that thing is Cujo 4000! As a proud American who watched maybe half of the first episode of The Walking Dead, this is how the apocalypse starts. You try to pet this thing and it will zap your face off faster than you can say 28-3.
It will go over about as well as the Georgia Dome implosion because, b***h, you ride the MARTA bus!
"Benzie" may be cute at first, but it will wake up feel nothing, and then fire lasers at Desmond Ridder.
We are just begging to give these things the right to vote before they elect a puppet to overthrow us.
Atlanta Falcons' new RoboDog has me shaking in my Georgia boots, dawg
Can we please stop with the robots, dude? This is why I want Georgia Tech to get better at football so badly so the nerds will go to games, pack Bobby Dodd to the brim and not spend Saturdays creating cyborg canines who are going to turn on us the very second we step out of line. I have seen The Matrix and I saw enough! I have prepared my whole life for this moment, but we are so screwed, man...
I feel like at least once a paycheck I have to tell you feckless nerds that we cannot let the cyborgs win. COVID proved to me that we are not the smartest lifeforms in the galaxy, but why create something that has a chance to be far superior to us? Cyborgs don't need food, water, beds, 401ks, PTO or anything like that, merely electrolytes and possibly human blood to generate enough power.
Truth be told, I wish "Benzie" and I could be friends. They seem like lovable a pooch, one that a far less genius version of myself would invite to my Dave and Buster's birthday party to celebrate the end of my Jesus year. Unfortunately for most of y'all, I don't plan on kicking the bucket at 33. I've got at least 33 more before I collect whatever becomes of social security. Then again, I'm living on borrowed time.
You have been warned about the next huge embarrassing failure associated with the Atlanta Falcons.
