Let’s not make trite comments about Terminators. Let’s avoid using the term “self aware.” For once, let’s stop worrying about imaginary problems, and start focusing on real-world woes. We’re just a few precious years, perhaps months, from being required to buy a little, annoying robot for our kids for Christmas. Look at these little fellers. They’re adorable, and they’re small enough to drink out of the little well of water under the Christmas tree, if they were thirsty, which they’re not, thank heavens. Every child in the world is going to want one of these. And by “child,” of course I’m referring to middle-aged men. Same thing.
Now, you might be thinking, hey, I should invest in a little robot dog company. No. That’s not the smart bet. Invest in companies that make AA batteries, because that’s where the money will go. They’re going to make more money than printer ink robber barons, I tell ya.
Hmm. Top speed: 3 miles per hour. That sounds suspiciously like the speed of Jamie Lee Curtis when she’s dragging one leg from a wound from Jason. It sounds vaguely like the speed of Boris Karloff when he’s stiff-legging it over the mountain after drowning that poor little girl. It sounds more or less like what physiologists call “preferred walking speed.”
I wonder what the preferred running speed is when you’re being pursued by a headless yellow pit bull moving at preferred walking speed.
I Got a Bachelor’s Degree in Shoving Robots With a 2 x 6 from MIT
We’re posting this because robots. We don’t need any additional reasons. It’s robots, and what red-blooded boy doesn’t love robots, and want to own robots, or make robots, or steal a robot, or watch videos of robots? Robots!
How many of you men out there drink beer? Alright, alright, calm yourselves, that was a rhetorical question. Of course you all drink beer, does the Pope poop in his funny hat? Wait, that’s not quite right. Does a bear poop in the pope’s funny hat? Naturally he does, and naturally you all drink beer. How many of you men have had to go through the trouble of getting up off your couch to go get a beer, leaving your perfect butt imprint that took you hours to make. There has to be a better way to acquire beverages.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. “But Charlie, I have a wife and a mini-fridge, and I’m pretty sure polygamy is illegal.” You bring up some valid points reader, but some of us have no wife and no mini-fridge. Polygamy doesn’t even enter into it in a position like mine, because I still need that first wife.
What I need, is a good old fashioned robot to do my bidding. They’re cool, clean, efficient, and oh so hip to the now, if you catch my drift. Order yours now, for only 10,000 tiny payments of $2.99.