I bet you thought I forgot about all of you, our loyal readers, who have tuned in for intermittent inanity. Well, I did. Or rather, I was forced to, by forces beyond the bounds of perception or grammar or grammar. People who didn't (and still don't) "get" what makes us great.

For all of you naysayers who never thought it would work, who spat on our valiant effort to quell global warming by running industrial fans on every continent, who claimed it was impossible to build a Lego™ bridge to a better tomorrow, we have one word: neener.

Neener, neener, neener.

Thank you, and I hope that over the next six year we can continue our mature, complex, thought-provoking analysis and critiques of the global socio-politic implications of setting spam on fire. Good night.

Loyal viewers (unlike you) will remember that today, the 22^nd day of June, is the anniversary of our first post. Exactly five years ago today, a strange confluence of cosmic events and a series of boneheaded typos on a zoning permit resulted in the founding of Roboshrub Incorporated, a company devoted to the execution of “bad ideas.”

This vision was articulated by our first CEO, Jimmy Fingers, a hobo lured to our lobby by the implicit promise of free ham and bedding; he subsequently declared himself CEO-for-life and demanded to be paid in Monopoly money. He retired in 2008 to spend more time with his pigeons and was declared dead two month ago when he rammed his company speedboat into a Deepwater Horizon oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico.

Weep openly, friend, for there will never again be anyone as great as he.

Since Fingers’ departure, Roboshrub Inc. boosted its revenue through the acquisition of wealth. Not many companies think to increase revenue this way, which is why we’ve become an industry standard and a media starling. When it comes to fresh ideas and innovationing, Roboshrub Inc. can’t be beat!

Products such as the Mesh Canteen, Furby™ Refurbisher, Sleeveless Spacesuit, and our new flagship product, the 86-Button XComputer Mouse, roll off our assembly line this fall. Be the first in your office to erect our patented Cubicle Fence! Your neighbors will grumble with envy when you unveil your brand-new Roboshrub-brand Olympic-size Grill! Barbecue a buffalo that’s the size of an elephant! Uh-oh, what’s that ringing and why do my teeth itch? That’s the new 4G Robone — the first smart-phone that’s also a toothpick! Need to get out of a jam in a pinch? Sudden volcano!

Comes in both shield and composite types for a pyroclastic explosion of fun!

We also give our competitors lead-based awards for consumer safety, and have an established an international presence.

When interim CEO Slappy Lubbock opened our Australian branch in May 2008, he was mocked derisively by the eBoard of Trustees. “Are we marketing to penguins now?” they jeered. Only after Lubbock’s resignation did the eBoard learn that Australia and Antarctica are different continents, though both are uninhabited.

Since that time, our CEO has been the estimable Angus McGriddle, a prominent scientist and professor who invented seven of the eight available varieties of elephant poison. He was sold to us by corporate headhunters who abducted him in the wilds of Gary, Indiana. Speaking only a pastiche of Spanish, Klingon and Bostonian, our training division refined McGriddle into the crafty ombudsman who, as recently as last Tuesday, drank a bucket of paint to appease our customer base.

McGriddle has provided the stable, level-headed leadership that continues to enrich Roboshrub Incorporated: “Achieving synergy through proactive HTML5 has always been our goal,” McGriddle said at the 2009 Buckman Statistical Summit when asked if he’d lost weight. Professor McGriddle has been observed panning for gold in public swimming pools. He also became briefly embroiled in a political firestorm after making the terse statement, “marriage is gay” at a fundraiser for children with problems sitting still.

McGriddle’s self-proclaimed greatest achievement as CEO has been the successful removal of elephants from the corporate headquarters.

We’d like to thank you for tuning in, and encourage you to visit the gift shop on the ninth floor. There is no elevator, and all our staircases are wet.

Roboshrub Inc.
Public Relations Fiasco Department

Roboshrub Inc. opened its doors four years ago today, to much acclaim and expectation.

At its height, Roboshrub Incorporated employed more people than General Motors and was responsible for roughly 6% of America’s GDP (during peak years).

Whole towns sprung up around our franchises, with generations of dregs bred specifically to sample our eclectic wares. Our stock price doubled every four months for more than 24 straight months—one monthular day.

Then the bottom fell out of the used underpants market.

We tried to recoup our losses by investing heavily in real estate early last year, but every city zoning board we approached declined us permits to build castles “unscalable by Viking and proofed against Beasts of Land and Sea.” Our attempts to woo them with worthless trinkets… failed.

How ironic it seems, in retrospect, that we burned our construction equipment for heat right as the wealthy urgently needed fortified strongholds to secure what little gold and food remained to their names. In dire straights, we even began to print our own money, backed solely by prayer. It didn’t catch on with enough customers.

But Roboshrub Inc. is determined to survive—nay, thrive!—this recession. We’ve already taken the ceremonial step of not just firing our ineffective CEO, but sealing him (kicking and screaming) in a cask of industrial garlic oil and floating him down the Ganges.

Our new CEO is an idealistic farm boy fresh off the turnip truck. His only job is to help the board of directors overcome years of cynicism and reconnect with humanity; then we’ll turn it into a late-summer blockbuster and rake in millions. Then we’ll have the money to hire back our corrupt and incompetent former CEO at his new, higher rate (which excludes garlic-related dry cleaning and bonus whale).

Ah… stop right there. I know what you’re thinking. And no, these shake-ups at the top most certainly don’t mean we’ve lost our borderline-obsessive focus on the customer.

In the past, we’ve brought you amazing and thought-provoking products like ham-flavored gum, aluminum balloons and solar-powered umbrellas. We’ve already got a new Fall line-up that our antisocial engineers claim you should love: dust cover covers, foetal identity bracelets, caramelized sugar cubes, high-definition mirrors, and a new version of the transparent toupée that doesn’t cause brain fissures!

40% less brain fissures equals more fun with your invisible wig!

Discounts will be given to those maimed by past products.

We hope for your continued patronage and support, but keep in mind that you’re just a drop in the bucket and making you happy won’t move our bottom line one iota. Our service reps aren’t going to be doing a little song and dance for some chump change, so buy in bulk and make sure you read the manuals. Opening boxes voids your warranty.

Roboshrub Incorporated
Gastrointestinal Communications Department