Punch out.
Our autopunch a few years back was Marvin (my personal robot assistant) with his claw on the console and a complex series of eyebrow movements. What could possibly go wrong?
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Millsville.
Marvin (my personal robot assistant) has suggested we start recording on cylinders or wire. Damn it, it’s been done, Marvin! Come up with something new, like, I don’t know … recording on bricks.
New thing.
Marvin (my personal robot assistant) was handing out flyers in the town square. (Fun fact about this little burg: the town square is round. So why don’t the cars have square wheels? Riddle me THAT, Batman.)
A la post.
Everyone seems to be taking a pass on everything, regardless of how little effort may be involved. Even Marvin (my personal robot assistant) couldn’t be bothered to plug himself in.
Roll with it.
We get roasted on Twitter every time we open our mouths … even when Marvin (my personal robot assistant) makes one of those squeaking noises that just sounds like talking. It’s brutal out there!
This just in.
We’ve got at least one brain between us. And then there’s Marvin (my personal robot assistant). He has an ELECTRONIC brain.
Splitting Lincoln.
Never can tell what’ going to happen with mad science technology. Just ask Mitch Macaphee – he invented Marvin (my personal robot assistant) after all.
Dropping stuff.
Marvin (my personal robot assistant) has mustered a small army of robots to do his bidding. (And me to help.)
All stop.
Marvin (my personal robot assistant) communicated through his aldis lamp code something that roughly translates to: ”This is totally freaking me out, man.”
Part deux.
Marvin (my personal robot assistant) doubles as one of those robotic vacuum cleaners – pretty versatile.