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Ten thousand years of Roboshrub.

Fangs for the memories.

In today’s state, Roboshrub Incorporated is an entity entirely devoted
to the execution of what normal people would refer to as “bad ideas.”

It was the creator’s original idea that all concepts, whether
useful or not, contribute to the global subconscious level of progress
for the human race. Therefore, we contend that no idea is an unfit
idea, and vow to act on each and every one of them.

Roboshrub Inc.
Public Communications Department

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For your insolence, I condemn you to...

Suffer the Fate of a Thousand Bees!
(Before they go extinct)

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I'm Back

Whoa, did time just slip up there? Seems like just yesterday I punched a stegosaurus in the knee and stole his roller skates. I attribute my lapse of several years to a bad taco.

The Blogosphere is indeed a changed place. For one thing, it's no longer called the Blogosphere, outside the hipster subculture. That's another thing that's sprung up, those hipsters. Let me tell you, I was decrying the mainstream zeitgeist when those sheeple were still in light-up sneakers, waxing their cowlicks for the third grade class photo. And what did it profit me? Self-satisfaction isn't very satisfying if you can't throw it in the faces of all those who irk you, past, present, and future. It's the future irkers I really can't stand; they sit in potential judgement, and always will.

So, how about that weather? Here at Roboshrub Incorporated we're doing our best — our absolute, level best — to contribute to global warming. When our founder's great-great-great-great-grandfather, Hiram Plutarch "Radical Rex" Roboshrub, left the company to his grandson because his son was an unreliable, amoral crackpot, his dying words were: "By golly, I sure love Venus. Try to make Earth more like it, won't you?"

At the time it was thought that beneath its bright clouds, Venus was a woodland paradise. Now we know better, and we've answered Radical Rex's cryptic clarion call to chlorinate the chaotic oceans. That's why it was just so disheartening when that pesky polar vortex slithered across my America like a snake on a skating rink. Fortunately, my Director of Heat assures me that global warming just means more extreme weather, not perpetually warm weather. I disputed that, and immediately hired a new director who has vowed to change the climate to be more favorable to my viewpoint. It's already working, if my divining rod is any indication.

In conclusion, hello. It's been great seeing you people again — except for you (you know who you are), but I've got to run. They're opening a KFC in my honor in Beijing, and if I'm late I won't get a free biscuit. Parting advice: keep a sweater nearby at all times, especially the beach. And get a haircut, you hippie.