So I finally manage to slog my way through the homeschool prep for tomorrow and reclaim my workshop. Believe you me, I need to make a robot. Or at least drill a hole in something.
My 12-year-old son is simultaneously playing a basketball video game in the shared basement. As I work, not only am I bombarded by the incessant, meaningless babble of computerized sports commentators, but I look up to see the Halftime Analysis brought to me by Sprint.
Seriously?
Even in a video game halftime, there's freakin'shameless advertising sponsorships?
These partially assembled robots brought to you by Coca-Cola, the letter R, a Ryobi drill press, and apparently Folger's. You're welcome.
My 12-year-old son is simultaneously playing a basketball video game in the shared basement. As I work, not only am I bombarded by the incessant, meaningless babble of computerized sports commentators, but I look up to see the Halftime Analysis brought to me by Sprint.
Seriously?
Even in a video game halftime, there's freakin'
These partially assembled robots brought to you by Coca-Cola, the letter R, a Ryobi drill press, and apparently Folger's. You're welcome.
