Tag Archives: Roomba

I Love You, It

Ever had a product that you loved so much you could, completely off-the-cuff, give a three-hour presentation about, followed by an hour of Q&A? Well let me tell you: I do. And I’ll spare you the details. Because, after all, this is about time. My time; your time. Considering a vacuum? Look no further.

Meet Roomba. Meet Little Roomba (actually it’s a Scooba but we lovingly refer to this little doll as LR). These are my best friends. Especially Roomba, although I’ve got to hand it to Little Roomba because she gets BEHIND THE TOILET. Hell yeah.

Oh revered Roombas, basking in sunlight...

I completely, unfailingly, 100 percent love the shit out of them. Period. Obviously I’m not the only one. Have a look at the Georgia Institute of Technology’s Pimp My Roomba study. And then there’s ROOMBA ART! Seriously, check it out.

Yeah, I’ve had to replace a wheel and the motor, but hey, it sure as hell beats manual vacuuming. Manual vacuuming? Blech. Questions? Ask iRobot. They make ‘em. Interestingly, Roomba is an American invention (by MIT robiticists, to be exact), and from what I can tell, the robots aren’t all made in China. Uh, I think.

I would wear a dress for you, Roomba. And that’s saying something.


Take Two, Featuring Princess Aurora.

Second post of 010212. Success. Sweet, sweet success. In preparing for this post I had another photo in mind. Instead of posting it here (since it wasn’t actually taken today and my only [lame, I know] rule is to post photos taken the day of the post), I believe cheating is in order and instead just link to my Instagram post for today visually depicting my edict for the year: Go. That’s right, go. That means go go go. Not stop, go. Green light. All projects are on. As such, here they are, (some of) my lofty goals for this year, in no particular order:

1. Lose 25 pounds.

2. Complete an entire story. Said story may be comprised of a full-length novel, a volume of young adult literature, a short story, or an illustrated (graphically, by computer, of course) children’s book. No, I’m not kidding. I’m going to do this.

3. Keep the fucking house clean and organized. And when I say “keep” I do mean keep the other highly evolved mammals in this household from making the damn mess to begin with.

Now that I’ve put them forth, let me list their facilitators:

1. Start smoking.

2. Go away for six months with no family contact whatsoever.

3. Send my family away for six months. They can certainly call during this time since they won’t be here to throw their shit on the floors/counters. I could also use a full-length version of my old buddy Roomba that cleans said counters too (of course counter-shit would still pose a problem and we’ve had enough Roomba-clogging episodes ultimately culminating in replacement wheels, brushes, brush housings, and motors; love ya Roomba).

Since the rest of this post has nothing whatsoever to do with it, meet Princess Aurora. Today she came to see us. In. The. Daytime. It was quite an event.


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