I saw an ad for this thing in Ron’s last night as he had the golf channel on. He’s a bit of a golf buff and he hates Tiger Woods. Did you see him walking up the fairway with enormous mittens on him to keep his delicate little hands warm?
What a fucking fanny. Seriously, wouldn’t a pair of weather-beaten, exposed to the elements hands be a better idea. He probably didn’t want to damage a nail, the geebag. Also, there was a guy called ‘Boo Weekley’ which is just about the best name I’ve ever heard. There’s enough difference in the spelling of the surname for it to be ‘on a weekly basis’ or ‘without much force’. I put €20 on him to win.
Anyway, this ad come on for a little robot lawnmower which cuts your grass automatically. Not only that you can control it from your mobile phone so you can sit, drink a beer and control this thing to cut the grass. And not only that when it’s finished it goes back into its little house like a puppy going into a kennel.
Here’s the website, it’s cool. I’m buying 5 today so I can have an army of robot lawnmowers controlled by my phone. First the back garden, next the world.
Jayzus Twenty! You’d blow the entire proceeds of the book [and some]. The cheapest is over 2G.
Anyway they’re no good. The neighbour had one, and I put down rat poison. Worked a treat.
That is awesome. Now if only I had a lawn.
I’m sure I could find another use for them.
Could they be seduced to do some pubic trimmery?
Let me know if you find out.
Oh, and as for Mr Weekley, he’s had quite a life according to The Sun.
http://www.thesun.co.uk/article/0,,3-2007330703,00.html
Pit the 5 of them against each other and you have your own version of Robot Wars. ACTIVATE!
Twenty, This is the most interesting post I’ve read on this site in ages. I WANT one of those things. Actually I want several. Grass cutting, worm lacerating, bird bashing, mouse excoriating, squirrel squashing -the possibilities are endless.
And a famous story is told of how he once decided to fight an orang-utan at a county fair, fortified by a few drinks.
Weekley seems anxious to live down that chapter, insisting: “No sir, I don’t remember that at all.”
That is hardly surprising, as eye witnesses say he woke up an hour after trying to throw the first punch, while the victorious ape was munching on a few celebratory bananas.
haha, classic.
Automatic violence at your fingertips, Mad Dog. It’s like he says, Robotwars.
Don’t you realize that when robots get together they try to take over the world? What will happen when yours turns on you? Here’s the sequence: First throatripper disappears, then bastardface and then the neighbors start going missing. By then it’s to late and they eat you. After that happens there will be no more blog and I’ll have to get rid of my computer. Do us a favor and pour green cement for the lawn then go sit in a saloon and put all that robot bullshit behind you.
Mollusc genocide looms.
cheaper than kids too
Did ya see that Tiger sliced into the crowd and knocked some woman from Armagh on the head giving her 2 stitches? he autographed one of those gloves for her too, that will make her feel better. Don’t worry it didn’t hurt his game, she was asking for it the way she was dressed. Golf is for the weak.
Golf does not require greath strength as most of you have ascertained, however, the wimp with the pouffy gloves earns millions of bucks treading the fairways and greens that armies of beer swilling worker ants keep trim for him.
Shiite, Twenty, we have those over here in the best nation on earth. Only we call them Mexicans.
Did the Da from ‘Honey I Shrunk the Kids’ not have one of these? And it took someone this long to steal the idea?
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