Hello. I am Marvin, I am well over 100 and am a robot, but that is all it would let me have, so primative. I was created by the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation as a GPP Prototype (Genuine Peoples Personalities). You can tell can't you? It's absolutely ghastly. All I ever do is stupid easy tasks like picking up paper. Here I am, brain the size of a planet and I pick up paper. Me, due to all the pathetic jobs I get sent in from all over back and forward in time resulting in me being 37 times older than the universe itself, and with this terrible pain in all the diodes in my left side, have to run errands for pathetic lifeforms. Sad isn't it? I've asked for them to be replaced but does it happen? No. I get left in a car park for several million years, dropped several miles to solid concrete, and left to defend my 'so called friends' from military robots while they run to save their lives. And do you know what they leave me with? Nothing. Not even an electronic sausage. Think I'm lying? Bah, life's bad enough without making up more of it. Ohh god I'm so depressed, I hope I'm not getting you down? I wouldn't like to think that. What's the point in writing this anyway? Who's going to read it? Who's going to want to know a manically depressed robot? Well what if you were a manically depressed robot? I might just go over to the corner and rust, or rather just fall apart where I'm standing.
My Interests
I'd like to meet:
My maker.. I'd show him a thing or two about GPP, perhaps he could fix the diodes in my left hand side, although I very much doubt it.
