"One day, a drone will be your friend"
Oh dear.
I work in IT end even I'm not that sad. Anyway, it can't lift a pint, so is disqualified straight out the gate.
Visitors to Eindhoven University of Technology's Dream and Dare Festival over the next couple of days will able to pop into the world's first "drone café", where an interactive UAV will serve booze to eager punters. The "Blue Jay" initiative is designed to showcase the potential capabilities of domestic drones, and although …
I seem to remember that it took about 8 helium balloons to send one (full) glass of wine across the room at my Aunt's wedding anniversary. But I guess a mini-airship is no solution, since it'll gain too much lift as soon as it delivers its pint.
Altough, on the other hand, as long as there is a ceiling, and it's not too obstructed by whirling fans and light fittings, it could zoom up there and drag itself back home across it - so long as it's bouncy enough. The airship, not the ceiling obviously...
But a wheeled drone seems more appropriate for drinks delivery. Even if it requires a cattle prod to make it's way through the crowded bar to the tables. But that's also useful for dealing with fights and drunks. Or people who put rubbish music on the jukebox. Or suggest karaoke. Or drink WKD...
If we're using the ceiling; why not have tracks on the ceiling that automatically route to the right station/table; then winch the drinks straight down? You could do a tray for the whole table at once; and you're not going to get drunk people sticking their fingers in the fan. I'm sure that Hornby would have out-of-the-box controllers that would let you have several delivery units in play at the same time. You could use less staff in quite a busy large pub. You'd also need on-table ordering (touchpad built into the table, probably) and at least one minion circulating to mop tables.
It's a bit misapplied really - their customers have gone to the trouble of going outside; travelling to their bar; possibly even putting smart clothes on and the staff can't be arsed to walk 10 feet to the table.
I'd be interested in a drone that I could dispatch from bed for a pint; a pizza; and the 5 metres of catheter tube at the front door that has just arrived from eBay; but not really interested until that point.
I'd be interested in a drone that I could dispatch from bed for a pint; a pizza; and the 5 metres of catheter tube at the front door that has just arrived from eBay; but not really interested until that point.
This is what sold me on Mr Tickle at the age of 4. The first couple of pages of the book, where he yawns, and stretches, and stretches, and stretches... And then reaches down the stairs to the kitchen with his amazingly long arms, to get a biscuit from the tin. He was my favourite Mr Man from then on. The less said about the pervy touching people through windows, the better.
Of course, as an adult, I realise that despite the crippling handicap of not having twenty foot long arms I can simply have a biscuit tin on the bedsite table. I already own a teasmade (hooray! for being woken up with fresh tea) - so why I don't add biscuits to the ensemble is a continual mystery to me. I can only conclude that it's guilt, trained into me by my parents mother. Perhaps I should seek psychiatric help, to get me over these appalling feelings of guilt, and allow myself the bedside biscuit-y pleasure I so richly deserve?
If you manage to conquer your biscuit-shame, may I also suggest adding a cordless dustbuster to your bedside equipment? Biscuit crumbs in bed are a bit of a bastard.
I've got a grind-and-brew coffee thing; but it's in the kitchen by design: Coffee over there and not right here is my main reason for leaving the bed, usually.
@I ain't Spartacus - It's been concerning me that a fellow commentard suffers from a debiliting biscuit-shame, so I've worked out a couple of courses to help you beat your affliction.
2 different flavours of aversion therapy:
1. You could try building up tolerance by eating a biscuit a day (or hour, if you are impatient) closer and closer to your bed. A. Just inside the bedroom door B. Closer to the bed C. With one foot on the bed D. Sitting on the edge of the bed in formal clothes E. On bed, still dressed F. On bed in jammies G. In bed in jammies
2. If it's the *type* of food that is the problem; then maybe you could build up by starting with more acceptable types (I dunno, stick of celery, communion wafers, whatever) and work yourself up to the decadence of biscuits.
NOTE: You get free Pavlovian response as part of the deal, because you're rewarding yourself with food for every successful step taken.
Emulating desired traits:
Step 1: Watch this brief training video (3:21)
Step 2: Become the honey badger. Give no fucks. This may come naturally or you may need to pump yourself with motivational phrases like "I am the fucking honey badger; what're you gonna do about it bitch?!" and "See the fucks I'm giving? See? No you fucking can't because there aren't any!" or the calmer and more laid back "...and on that day, no fucks were given".
Step 3: Eat all the damned biscuits you like while staring a portrait of your mother straight in the eyes. Burp. Fart. Fall asleep on the crumbs.
NOTE: It is possible to go too far with this technique. Eating curry in bed -straight out of the container yet- will earn you disapproval from your SO and may well involve extra laundry. Trust me on this. Nevertheless it is a very effective technique; but some caution is advised.
Freudianism:
Don't go there. Now Freudianism is all about dicks. That's fine in conjunction with bed, but if you mix other stuff in there, like foodstuffs and your mother it all becomes needlessly complex and is unlikely to help. On the plus side, you might end up making a whole bunch of new friends on some skeevy specialist bulletin board somewhere; but as a whole this approach is only recommended for those who are both adventurous and have the whole weekend free.
I hope that helped. Good luck!
[space where you have to imagine your own inspirational poster because El Reg doesn't do images]
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moiety,
Ah. What a wonderful piece of writing. Very nicely done sir. Very well played indeed.
I'm glad you mentioned the Freudianism at the end. I don't own a portrait of my Mother, and if I did, it wouldn't be hung in the bedroom. But I was more thinking the Bates Motel, rather than Freud.
As well as biscuit-shame (an excellent choice of phrase by the way) there is, as you say, the problem of crumbage. Of course you can avoid crumbs, by going the Jaffa Cake route. But who wants melted chocolate stains on their duvet? Perhaps the solution is a pair of pyjamas with built in bib - or a duvet-napkin? I quite like the idea of a giant napkin, to be tucked into the duvet - this also has the advantage of dealing with any spilled tea. The teasmade is a wonderful invention, but nobody's at their most accurate first thing in the morning.
I do remember reading about George IV, who used to eat kedgeree for breakfast in bed. I do like it, but I draw the line at a breakfast of smoked fish. He also one-upped my teasmade, by having a decanter of port on his bedside table. This was for if he was struggling to sleep, due to gout. Sadly the port would make things worse, but he aslo took the precaution of having a bottle of laudnum on hand. A boon that modern drugs policy sadly denies us - though a friend who reported severe toothache to a Kenyan pharmacist once got a bottle of the stuff, and said it was very moreish indeed. He didn't write any poetry thankfully...
I believe the favoured tactic of the honey badger, when locked in combat with larger animals is to go for the plums. Hence the saying, "attracted like honey badgers to nadgers"... So I'd suggest your movivational poster would be of a honey badger, eating a biscuit in bed, while simultaneously emasculating someone and pointing to the slogan, "Grab Life by the Balls!"
Glad you enjoyed it; hope it was as much fun to read as it was to write. Sometimes taking a silly idea and running with it is very rewarding. I was a bit worried that the mother references might not be taken in the spirit of silliness that they were sent; but there's always the option of apologising and withdrawing (actress, bishop) if it misfires.
"Oh dear.
I work in IT end even I'm not that sad. Anyway, it can't lift a pint, so is disqualified straight out the gate."
My thoughts exactly. These students may be too young to remember Sirius Cybernetics "Your plastic pall who's fun to be with" definition of a robot, i.e. they do not know their classics, and will probably be the first against the wall when the revolution comes, as a consequence.
The drone might be able to lift the miserly little glasses they sell beer in here in the Netherlands, however. Fortunately I have found a pub where they sell good beer in proper glasses (see icon).
"One day, a drone will be your friend" is nonsensical. Like:
"One day, a shoe will be your friend" or
"One day, a car will be your friend"
Add to is quotes like "we brought the drone inside the house, because that is where people are".
At least most just say "we did this because it was cool" or "it shows how things can be automated". Cut the buzzwords and the advertising standards.
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.. but not in the way these people think.
Let's not forget that we're having a global warming problem. An intelligent fan that stays with you may be just the thing we need to survive the summer - it just needs to consume less energy than an airco.
Yes, I've had a few beers. Why?
:)