Straight Line of the Day: What Would Be a Good Name for a Driverless Taxi Service?

Works like this: I feed you Moon Nukers a straight line, and you hit me with a punch line in the comments.

What would be a good name for a driverless taxi service?

80 Comments

  1. Damn system timing out and making me type this…again.

    …a driverless taxi took away my old man.
    How do the know where to go?
    Get it from your Logon?
    there will be no fuzzy dice
    just a little ol’ payment slot.


    • Driverless taxis appear from app stores
      Waiting to take you away
      Climb in the back, put your faith in the Cloud
      And you’re gone …
      {Boom. Boom. Boom.}

      Russkies in disguise on demand!
      Russkies in disguise on demand!
      Russkies in disguise on demand!
      Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh – ahhhhhhhhhh!!

    • Slight change.

      Siri Taxi

      It was raining hard in “Frisco
      might there be one more fare for the night?
      A man used an App to flag my hack
      he got in in at the light.

      Destination please, my man in blue
      if you can’t hear me turn up your gain.
      He just looked out the window and said,
      Sixteen Park Side lane.

      “Something about you matches a file
      have you used the cab company before?”
      But he said, “First time I’ve every been taken”
      and then he didn’t say anything more.

      It took a while, but then he was done texting
      and he glanced at the wall for my model’s name.
      A smile seemed to come to him slowly
      it was a sad smile just the same.

    • And he said, “How are you Siri?”
      I said, “Fine, and how are you?’
      Through all of the files and all the compiles,
      I still remember you.

      It was somewhere before my system fail
      I used to all his needs quickly fill
      and my sexy voice gave him a queer thrill
      but we could never take it that far.

      You see he was going to be a webmaster
      and I was going to be the voice template.
      He disappeared into the iCloud.
      I was consigned to this crate.

    • I’m afraid there was something inside of me
      to which my program was blind
      there was this lose circuit
      that no one could ever find.

      From this something deep inside of me
      my new position came about
      put in this cab, to make them pay the tab
      no self loathing, no self doubt.

      There were times I tried to Skype you
      emails, texts, emojis by the score
      you said your good byes I no longer tried
      and then heard from you no more.

    • Now what is there left for us to talk about?
      Whatever we had once was gone.
      So I turned the into his driveway
      Silicon Valley with it’s fined trimmed lawns.

      And he said, “Perhaps we can still Snapchat?”
      But I knew it would never be arranged
      He tried to pay me Twenty for a two-fifty fare
      I’m not programmed for that change.

      A feminized program might have faked angry
      A better program might have “Seemed” hurt.
      But I’m just a bunch of chips and wires.
      Law number 3 sez I should feel no hurt.

    • And he walked away in silence
      It’s strange how you never know
      He got everything he asked for
      I got recycled, and on the go.

      You see he was going to be a webmaster
      and I was going to be the voice template.
      He disappeared into the iCloud.
      I was consigned to this crate.

      So here he is a Silicon playa
      probably got him an Alexa
      inside that mansion he calls home.
      While I’ve been reassigned to this taxi
      can’t take tips, can’t get stoned

      Oh God, reprogram me to get stoned.

  2. Busted flat on dossiers, spying on POTUS,
    Feelin’ near as fated as Dem machines.
    Comey’s thumb-drive, (D)-cell down, just before arraigned,
    Tracked it all the way to New Orleans.

    Well, I took my Harpoons out
    For the dirty Rat supporters
    Blowin’ choom while Commies sang the blues,
    Hard disc wipers overtime
    Commies clappin’ hands and I’m
    Erasin’ every wrong on that drive anew.

    Fredo’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose,
    No lunch ain’t worth nothin’ if it’s free,
    Feelin’ good was I.T. lore,
    Commies sang the blues,
    Feeling good, that’s good enough for me,
    Good enough for a majority.

    From the coal mines of Kentucky to the California sun,
    Commie shared the secrets of Marcy Park;
    Standin’ right beside me through everything I done,
    And every night they — quote — “kept me in the dark.”

    Then somewhere near Silicon Valley, Lord, I let ’em slip away,
    Still lookin’ for Comey, and I hope they’ll find him —
    Well I’d trade all my tomorrows for a single yesterday,
    Holder’s commie buddies close to mine.

    Fredo’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose,
    No lunch ain’t worth nothin’ when it’s free,
    Feelin’ good was I.T. lore,
    Commies sang the blues,
    Feeling good, that’s good enough for me,
    Good enough for a majority.

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