April's Robot

You know what time it is, don't you? Robot time. (If the thought of robot time worries and/or dismays you, check out the introduction.) You can tell by the way April's robot uses his walk that he's a ladies man, no time to talk. As such, I have dubbed him BG-42.

BG-42, initiate stayin' alive protocol!

April's robot would hit the floor

Boombox blaring, a funky roar

Hip-hop, disco, he knows it all

Dancing now, in total thrall

He sways his arms side to side

His metal moves, bona fide

Look out now, he's coming through

the robo-bboy, BG-42

March's Robot

April showers bring May flowers, but March brings us another robot! (If this robot business is new and frightening to you, check out the introduction.) This month's robot is a tall, military drink of water I've taken to calling Corporal Johnson.

Corporal Johnson, present visage!

March's robot was always picked last

At games like darts, or human blast

At night the others heard him cry

Solitary tears from a solitary eye

One day he joined the Robot Corps

They'd make a bot of him, for sure

Now he stands proud and tall,

The best shot in the whole mess hall!

February's Robot

Another month, another 13th, another robot! (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, check out the introduction.) This month's mechano-paper organism goes by the calendar name "Heartbreaker", which is ridiculously overwrought. Instead, I will call him Crobert.

Behold, Crobert - February's robot!

February's robot did not feel swell
He was trapped in his metal shell

His boxy head was full of dread
Dots of green above a metal tread

One day there was something new
A warm glow, through and through

The shock gave him quite a start
For in his chest, he had found a heart!

January's Robot

For Christmas, I got a calendar featuring a different papercraft robot each month. In case you were wondering, yes, that is how you say "I love you" in Geek. I've decided to assemble and photograph each paper robot for you, so that you can vicariously share in my joy.

However, I expect difficulty. I have good reasons for this.

Believe it or not, I missed the very first day of first grade. It's true. I was a sickly child. Thus, on my first day of first grade, all the children were already learning about the letter B, like in boy, or baby. To really drive this home, we had to cut out and glue together a baby boy in a diaper who was wearing a bonnet.

(To my recollection, no one ever tried to catch me up on A. Isn't tht wful?)

Seems simple, right? Well, maybe it was because I missed the first day; maybe it's because I was scared of the giant mole on my teacher's face; maybe it's because diaper didn't start with a B, and I was thematically thrown off balance; regardless, I managed to glue the diaper entirely to the outside of the baby boy's bottom. Oops.

Mrs. Beulah Berry - who was apparently born for this lesson, and a graduate of the public disapproval school of teaching to boot - loudly called this to the attention of all the other children. Their laughter still stings, and subsequent attempts at making things with my hands have been shame wrought affairs.

But I'm not just offering pictures of my failures! (There's more?)

Has anyone else ever heard of "Monday's Child?" It was astrology for the Jane Austen set to a nursery rhyme - it used the day of the week on which you were born to predict your personality. It went something like:

Monday's child is fair of face
Tuesday's child was sprayed with mace
Wednesday's child is always named Joe
Thursday's child will eat a burrito

For each robot, I'll write a few lines of poetry on a level with Monday's Child. I use the word "poetry" loosely, because I'm afraid the ghost of Williams Wordsworth will touch me in the shower if I don't clarify.

This whole thing starts off with Radiacto; that's what name the calendar gave this month's robot. Personally, I think he looks more like an Andrew...no, an Andy. Since today was the 13th, we'll do it on the 13th of every month. I could do it on the 1st, but I don't trust myself to be able to both pay my rent and assemble a paper robot; I'd only end up trying to pay my rent with a tiny robot and gluing a check to a baby's bottom.

Behold, Andy!

January's robot got lost at the mall

even though he's 90 feet tall

At the Apple store he said wow

Too bad it's applesauce now

Andy wanted to build a bear

instead he left a crater there

It's hard to shop for giant robots

Thank the Maker for Dippin' Dots!