robot soda

Rosie getting science kits and chemistry sets for birthdays and Christmas. She gets the goofiest biggest smile when she opens a new one.

She makes little wind mills out of soda bottles, and spazzy robots out of soda cans.

She dissects owl pellets next to Sherlock doing blood experiments

She grows and graphs flowers in a window box in her room.

She wins every science fair she ever enters in.

She has a whole collection of books on identifying bugs, water microbes, and bones.

All her bedspreads and blankets have astronomy and/or fossil themes.

Her bedroom walls have posters of Neil DeGrass Tyson and Marie Curie and Einstein and Turing and the brain and the atom and fossils.

Her ceiling has glow in the dark stars accurately depicting a summer sky, which John helped her put up when she was nine.

90% of her t-shirts and sweatshirts have science puns

Her favorite stuffed animal even into adulthood is a triceratops named oliver


Coming to you from my lunch break with the menu for the SweePara collab event starting from May 1st.

They’re going to offer what’s called a collab set for 650 where you get to choose 1 food and 1 drink from the following list. If you order a set you get a coaster and a paper lunchmat (I guess? I’ve only heard ランチョン used as “luncheon”). You can add on to your order a limited number of times for an extra 500 yen each (meaning @xiil3gendary and I will have to go multiple times) and for every extra drink receive a character sticker, which are randomly doled out, because of course they are.

Anyway, the menu!

Saihara Shuuichi’s Mystery Curry Soup

Toujou Kirumi’s Black Maid Pasta

Amami Rantarou’s Omlete Rice*
(They call it オムライっす to pun off his speech pattern)

Monokuma Family Curry

Yumeno Himiko’s Magician Waffles

Akamatsu Kaede’s Hardworking Pianist Pancakes

Ouma Kokichi Coffee?!?!

Iruma Miu’s ♥♥ Drink

Harukawa Maki’s Berry Poison Soda

Momota Kaito’s Galactica Soda

Kiibo’s Robot Drink

…some of these names were cleverer than others.

Anyway so yeah. Birthday month is shaping up to be awesome!

  • Ratchet: (Chugs a soda) *Burp!* Whoo! That was impressive.
  • Brax: That was pretty good kid, but-(Chugs a soda) *BURP!* No one can beat a Brax Lectrus belch.
  • Clank: Good afternoon, gentleman. (Gets a robot soda from the fridge and gently sips it) Ahh....*BUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRP!* Oh my, excuse me.
  • Ratchet and Brax: ....
  • Brax: That was fantastic.

She is right outside. Yes, good. Let’s have a little talk with her. Carly, get in here. Right now. Have a seat. So, I understand you put some flyers up all over the school? Yes, I did. Punk! Miss Briggs. I’m calm. Carly, this flyer. It’s a… It’s a… It’s not funny. Why would you Photodoc my head onto the body of a rhinoceros? Well, I… Rhinoceros? Oh, no, no, no. She made you a hippopotamus. No, no. She’s a rhinoceros. A hippo has fatter thighs and a wider snout. But the rhinos are the fat guys. What does it matter? I think we should call her father in to discuss this. My dad’s stationed in Europe right now. He’s in the military. Well, there must be some adult in charge of her. My older brother, Spencer. Oh, yes, the artist. He’s a great artist. Look, we don’t need to call her brother in about this. I’m sure that you can come up with a suitable punishment. Fine. You know, Carly, I am in charge of the talent show this year. Yeah, you’re holding auditions on Saturday. No, you are. I will be enjoying my Saturday while you videotape the auditions for me. No! I’m going to see Cuddlefish play live at the Hawthorne on Saturday! Not anymore. Come on! It’s what you get for turning me into a hippopotamus. Rhinoceros. Get out. Right. Somehow the world will change for me. And be so wonderful. Live life, breathe air I know somehow we’re gonna get there. And feel so wonderful It’s all for real I’m telling you just how I feel So wake up the members of my nation It’s your time to be There’s no chance unless you take one And the time to see The brighter side of every situation Some things are meant to be. So give your best and leave the rest to me Leave it all to me. Leave it all to me. Just leave it all to me iCarly S01E01 iPilot Let me go! Say you’re sorry. I’m sorry! And what are you sorry for? For saying you’re aggressive! And what am I again? Pretty and sweet! Thank you! Now the next time… Hair, hair, hair. Hi. Did you get in trouble? Of course I got in trouble! Teachers tend to get upset when you put their heads on the bodies of big, fat animals! I can’t believe I let you talk me into taking the blame for you! You had to. I’ve already been suspended once this semester. If I’d gotten busted they’d have expelled me. Well, here’s an idea. What? Stop doing bad things! Okay. Chillax. I will not chillax! And get excited, ‘cause you and I get to spend our entire Saturday here videotaping kids’ auditions for the talent show. No way, gross. Sorry, that’s my pinishment. So that’s your punishment, too. All right. Whatever. You know, anybody but me would punch you right in the head. Which is why you are my best friend. Good to know. Now, why are you mine? Because I’m a lovable person. You dropped this! Thanks, but you really… I was gonna walk you home from school but I couldn’t find you. Hey! Freddie, were you just looking out your peephole waiting for me to come home? No! Freddie. Yes. I thought we talked about this. We can be buds, but you gotta get over this crush thing. I am over it. Seriously. I’m in love with you. You just wanna be friends. And I’m totally cool living with that constant pain. Oh, god. Hey, I hear you need to borrow a camcorder to tape some auditions. Yeah, but I choose my brother’s. Look, you will change your mind. You know my digits. Hey, I don’t need your cellphone. You can have it. I’m home. Hey, kiddo! Up here. Just taking some pics of my robot sculpture. Smile! You know, for most eighth grade girls, if they came home and found their 26- year- old brother dangling upside down from the ceiling over a giant robot made out of soda bottles, it’d be weird. You’re saying I’m abnormal. Do I need to say it Come down from there before you hurt yourself. No worries. I got my leg wrapped around this pipe. I can’t believe you are in charge of me. Please help me stand up. Are you all right? Yeah. Nope. I dislocated my shoulder again. One sec. Yeah, that fixed her. Good. So listen, I need a favour. Shoot. I have to tape a bunch of auditions at school on Saturday. Fun. Yeah, not really. Anyway, would you let me borrow your video camera? I would. Awesome. Though I can’t. Why not? I made it into a squirrel. I told you the front doors would be locked. You gotta go around to the blue doors in back of the… Oh, my God. Morning, Carly. See you in a sec. Freddie? What do you think of my equipment? I just asked to borrow your video camera. What is all this? Well, that’s a 3- chip high- def camcorder with a hyper- cardioid condenser microphone. mounted on a carbon fibre tripod with a low- drag fluid head. I also brought you juice and a bagel. Hey, you invited the doof. Sam. Man! I didn’t know that was gonna be here. “She.” I’m a she, Freddie, as in “girl.” Barely. Just keep your hands off my AV equipment. You mean I can’t play with the white balance on your super- dee- duper- dee camcorder? Sure! Everybody jokes about the white balance till the skin tones go magenta Carly will never love you. That’s it. I’m taking my stuff and I’m going home! Please stay. Okay. Okay, Jeb, you ready to audition? Yeah. I will be performing a scene from a French play Okay. We don’t know what that means, but knock us out. Rolling? Rolling. But but where did she go? I don’t know. But when will she be back? I don’t know! Well, where can I find her? I tell you, I do not know! Okay! Nice job! What’d you think? I don’t know! You don’t know? I tell you, I do not know! But you must know! How can I know when I do not know? I don’t know. I will play the trumpet. Great. Nice. While hopping on this Pogo Stick. That’s what I’m talking about! You go, girl! Yeah. Pogo- tastic! That’s awesome! Jump and blow! So the doc says, “Why’d you wait so long to bring her in?” So I say, “I liked the eggs.” That’s awesome. Thanks Not that funny. No. No, no, not at all. But forget that. Can we please discuss the boy’s hair and glasses? He looks like Miss Briggs. Yeah, except he doesn’t have Miss Briggs’ crazy pointy boobs. I know, what is up with those? It’s like she stuffs waffle cones in her bra. Totally! I mean, she could poke an eye out with one of those things. Okay, okay, we better keep going. We’ve still got 11 more kids to see. Oh! 11? Calm down.They can’t get worse. And I was wrong. Sam. Sam. Wake up. What time is it? Late. What time’s your mom coming to pick you up? She’s not. I told her you invited me to spend the night. I didn’t invite you to spend the night. Well, you should 'cause I’m not leaving. What you doing? Checking to make sure Freddie put the auditions online. I told Miss Briggs we’d upload 'em on SplashFace tonight so she could watch 'em in the morning. I kind of hate Miss Briggs. Remember when she called me a demon? No! Oh, Yeah. It was when I put that raw chicken in her purse and… Shut up and come look at this! What, Freddie didn’t upload the auditions? No! He uploaded us! What? Look! That’s you and me! Sure is! He wasn’t supposed to film us! We were being all goofy and acting like idiots all day! Oh, my God. We made fun of Miss Briggs and her crazy pointy boobs! If she sees that… Anyone can see it! It’s on SplashFace! Okay, okay, chillax. Look, see the view count? Only 27 people have clicked on it. Okay, good. Sam? Yeah. That’s 27,000! Can you remove it? Maybe. Oh, I need Freddie’s password. Which part does he live in? The one across the hall. But it’s after midnight so you probably shouldn’t… Oh, no. Oh, great. Now there are 28,000 people are watch us. Quit it, Sam! Let go of my foot! Too much friction! Let go! What is the matter with you? Why’d you film us at the auditions today? oh. Cause you guys were being funny. Well, you shouldn’t have put us online without our permission! I didn’t! I edited you guys out before I uploaded the auditions. No, you did the opposite of that! What? There’s no way I… Yeah. Just take us off the site! Okay, okay! Just give me a sec. This is so not good. Anyone, anyone in the world can just click and see everything we did and said today. It’s so embarrassing. And if Miss Briggs sees… Don’t even talk about it. 'Cause if she… Got it. See, it says, “At your request, this video will be removed.” Good! Finally. Tomorrow morning. Man! Do you know how many more thousands of people can view it by then? All right, look, before you get all freaked out, SplashFace has message boards. So? So, let’s see what people are saying about the video. Okay, here’s one. “Carly, you and your friend Sam crack me up. Funny stuff.” Great, so one kid thinks… Wait. SlackerBoy314 writes,“Carly, you’re hot.” It’s true. You are. Stop. Oh, hey, check this one. Carly and Sam, you chicks are hilarious. When’s your next show? And this kid says, “You guys are way better than most of the puke here on SplashFace.” Wow. They love us. Yeah! More than puke. Where’s Miss Briggs? What if she saw it? The video was off by yesterday morning. What if she saw it before it was off? It was Sunday. She was probably in church. What church would let Miss Briggs in the door? Hello, Carly. Samantha. Howdy. Morning, Miss Briggs. We had some trouble putting the video online, so here’s a DVD of every kid who auditioned on Saturday. Thank you. Sure. I’ll try not to poke a hole in this with my pointy bosoms. She saw the video. We’re so sorry. Yes, and I imagine you will be sorry after I grade your next exams. Miss Briggs? What? I typed up a list of the kids we think should be in the talent show. Snorting milk? Pogo stick hopping? These aren’t talents. They were the most fun kids to watch. Goodbye. Wait, so you’re not gonna let any of the kids we picked be in the show? That’s right. Girls. No one enjoys that! I am so mad! Me, too. I need some ham. Seriously, Miss Briggs is the worst! You don’t gotta convince me. I hated her even after she got that brown lump removed from her nose. I’ll tell you something. She is what’s wrong with the world. Who’s what’s wrong with the world? Miss Briggs. Well, hey, at least she got that brown lump taken off of her nose. I just hate it when adults like her get to control what kids can do and see. It ticks me off. Why do they put a bone right in the middle of a ham? Hey, remember all that stuff those kids wrote about us on the message boards? Yeah. Things like, You guys should upload more videos. And, “When’s your next show?” And, “We want more.” Let’s give 'em more. More? Okay, what are we talking about here Doing a web show, online, every week. Why? Cause it can be whatever we want it to be. no adults to say,“You can do this. You can’t do that.” We can do whatever we want say whatever we want. Would it mean I have to do, like, work and stuff? Well, if you’re gonna do a show you gotta prepare for it. Then make it your show. You do the work. I’ll just show up and be your amusing little sidekick. Wait, what’s the show gonna be about? Anything. Something different every week. But for the first show, kids with bizarro talents. Clever. Miss Briggs says, “No, no, no.” We say, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Hey, why don’t you guys call your show “iCarly.” You know, “I,” Internet, Carly, you. I like it. ICarly’s cool. And you’re gonna need a technical producer, right? To set up the lights, audio, work the camera? He wants to be our geek. You got a big mouth, lady. Is that your shirt? I don’t like it. I don’t have to take that. Yeah, you do. All right. You know what, Sam. I’m so… That is so mature. Children. Hey! Look what someone just left in the dumpster. Isn’t she amazing? Hey, can we use the third floor as kind of a TV studio? Well, I don’t know… Thanks! You rock. Wait, I didn’t say… Why do you need… Okay, later! 52 seconds. Sam, come on! Sorry, I had to pee! You always have to pee. Well, it’s either that or I explode. 45 seconds! We’re on our way up! You know what to do? We sit together, me on the left, you on the right. Camera opens on the sign, pans down to me. …we chat with all the kids with great talents. You got it? I’m down. 20 seconds! Here we go. I look good? Perfect. Me? Well, you got something in your teeth. Get it out! Get it out… Hey, there, people of Earth. I’m Carly Shay and this is our very first webcast of a little show we call iCarly. She’s Carly. She’s Sam. Sam I am. Carly, Sam. I think they’re clear. Demonstrate the thing! Yeah! With this item, provided by our dorky friend Freddie. That’s disrespectful! We and do this, and this. and this Okay. Tonight, we’re gonna show you some kids with super insane talents. Freak show! Stop it. Okay, this first kid we’re gonna show you can take a glass of milk. This is so deliciously gross. Snort the milk up into his nose. It’s the best thing ever. And then make the milk squirt out of his eyes. I wanna marry this boy! Let’s bring him out. Simon Kendal! You’re up, dude! Okay, Simon You ready to blow people away with your freakish talent? Do it! Let’s go. Drum roll. Oh, my gosh. The king of dairy! The king of dairy! You won’t see that every day. Give it up for Simon! She’s a contortionist. Will you look at her? Look at it. It looks painful. Yeah. Oh, my gosh. No. Seriously, that is amazing Look at her! She’s so stretchy. (?) just fold her up and put her in your pocket? I’m not normal. Okay, this is insane! Tell the people your name. Brennan Yubberly. Yeah, Yubberly! Okay, any word you say, Brennan can say backwards perfectly. He’s a backwards talker. Check this out. Ointment. Tnenmtnio Yes! Okay. “Slippery watermelon.” Yreppils nolemretaw. Do you hear this? We love this boy! Okay, okay! Say, “I must be from planet Jupiter because there’s no other way I could be saying all this backwards! ……… Did you hear that? Insanity! Ytinasni! That’s enough, Brennan. Yeah! Great job! Wonderful! Looking at that goat made me hungry! Well, you can eat soon cause the very first webcast of iCarly is almost over. No, no, don’t be sad. We still got one more kid with a weird talent. But first… Here’s some stuff you need to know. If you liked our show, tell your friends. Your cousins, people you like. People you hate. All people of this planet. That we’re gonna be here, live, online every week at iCarly. Com. In fact, next week, Carly’s gonna take my tonsils out right here. She’s lying. But how awesome would that be? So, there is anything you want to see us do. or hear us talk about right here on the show No matter how crazy or weird. Or stupid. You can contact us by going to And click on the feedback button. Feedback button! Click till it hurts! And if you wanna send us a video of you doing or saying anything cool. Telling a joke, eating a bug just email the video clip to us. Carly and me. Me and Sam. At iCarly. Com And if it’s cool enough We’ll show it right here on iCarly. So send us up. Talk back. But be nice. Cause if you are not. We will find where you live. And go to treat with these. OK. Our last freakishly talented kid’s name is Taryn James. And she’s about to play us out. With her trumpet. But with a little extra twist. Hit the button. Get out here, Taryn! Will you look at that! It seems impossible. That is so cool! I wish I could do that! Yeah Well, thanks for watching! Don’t forget to tune in next time! Oh, my gosh! This is so much fun! And we’re clear! Yes! We did it! Well. Hurry! You guys are making me nervous. Here it is. How many? 37,000! Why are we happy? Cause our very first web show rocked! And was watched by over 37,000 people! Get out! My baby sister’s a web star. Hey, we should have a party, you know, to celebrate. Yeah, that’d be so cool. Yeah, that’d be so tight! Yes, we should. But it shouldn’t be a normal, regular party. Oh no. It needs to be something different, something wonderfully random. Crazy hat party? Hey, awesome party. Yeah. You wanna go out the hall and kiss? No. Yeah, me neither. Hey, cupcake. There you are! Nice hat. Back at you. Hi. Can we get your autographs? We love iCarly. Your web show. Sure. No prob. There you go. There. Thanks. Sure. I love you, Carly! Wow. I just signed an autograph. Get used to it. iCarly’s a great show. You might get famous. Yeah. I don’t know if I’m gonna like that. Hey. Saw your web show. Pretty hot. Thanks. Yeah, thanks a lot. So, you guys wanna dance? Yes. Cool, let’s do it. I’m gonna like it. Hey! Hey, stop that! Put her down! She’s not for you! How pitiful! Who invited you?

She is standing at the jukebox in a dark bar. She sees you at the opposite end. It is crowded and her face is obscured by shoulders and tap handles but you can see her, too. A look that vaguely implies something filthy. Wild ideas. Collaborations. Plans for each other and the universe. A fast-forward to a sweaty moment in the backseat of your car. A look that is itself a rocket ship; with her you are above the clouds with the top down, picking meteors out of your teeth. She is beyond logic, chemistry, beyond your capacity to feel things, and this is terrifying. Because to be with her is to reconsider your own understanding of a species. How one person can permeate the being of another.

She plays nine dollars’ worth of songs that are for everyone, for her, for this half-drunk moment, but they are for you, really. Songs that are so perfect they twist through your flesh like a sniper bullet. You sit and shake your head and idly pick at a damp coaster.

You sleep most weekends at her place one summer. You listen to Gladys Knight and have sex and watch The Larry Sanders Show. Her air conditioner sucks every trace of moisture from her bedroom. The front of it has fake wooden panels, like the sides of an old station wagon. Artifice, failing technology, wood as a signifier of domesticity: America, baby. You wake up in the middle of the night and hold your eyelids open until you start to tear and then you go back to sleep.

Sometimes you don’t turn on the air conditioner and everything feels sticky, every surface, like you are covered in dried soda. Sometimes you lie with her on the cold linoleum of the kitchen floor, touching each other’s hands, rolling, looking for new cold, listening to the rumble of the dishwasher, to the metal pull-chain on the ceiling fan clanging against the light bulb, to her working through her problems out loud. To you both pretending you have answers. Years before that she lived in Hong Kong with a boyfriend. They tried heroin and rode around on an old green motorcycle and one time he had another guy jerk him off while she watched. He was a stand-up comedian who never quite made it. She likes you because you are none of these things.

Before bed she sprinkles baby powder on her chest and behind her knees. In the morning it is in messy, clumped streaks from where the sweat was. Here is proof, evidence. A human alive; a body in operation.

You want to inhale her, her skin, her elbows, her shoulders, and every wrinkle of her brain, every movement, every noise, the face she makes when she calculates a tip. How sometimes she laughs so hard you can hear her from downstairs. How she laughs even harder and doesn’t make a sound at all. How she paces and looks at the lines on her palms when she is talking to her mother on the phone. How she doesn’t pace when she is talking to her father, because she never talks to her father. Her father is no good, and she came from that no-good, but now she is this woman, she is bulletproof, she is King Kong swinging from the skyscraper antenna, she is eating traffic and exams and brunch shifts like grapes.

You are in bed next to each other in the morning, on your backs, not wanting to move, wondering how much time you have left, doing the math together. Feeling the narcotic monotony of domesticity. The neighbors upstairs, heavy high heels clicking on hardwood floors, half-naked people almost-arguing and slamming doors. Green WiFi lights spazzing across the room. Spotify ads for fertility clinics interrupting Hall and Oates songs. “Is this the one for excessive bleeding or men developing breasts?”

She’s in the bathroom brushing her teeth now. You are in bed waking up. You think about saying something to her but you don’t. You can just watch her, exist with her; you are OK with that. Being in her orbit. She holds her hair back and spits into the sink and licks the toothpaste foam off her lips. She looks at you in the mirror. She doesn’t say anything but she is looking at you at an amplitude that is making your organs rattle against each other.

She is delicate and she is powerful. She is the beach city and the typhoon. To love is to have the launch codes to each other’s nuclear weapons. To be naked and in danger, stuttering and trying to be cool but sometimes not being cool, dependent and in awe, showing each other your weirdness. Not so the weirdness can be inspected but so you can hang it on your walls. You help each other levitate. You understand now that we are all this way, struggling to be strong and knowing we are scared. And you understand that she will always be stronger than you, that she is immune to this paradox.

She dries her hands on her bathrobe because she can’t find a towel. She starts to hum a song, she gets on her tiptoes and looks at her thighs; she thinks you don’t see this but you do, you’re still watching her. She turns off the faucet. You roll over and close your eyes but in your brain she is still right. fucking. there.

She gets back from her aunt’s in Katonah or Mount Kisco or wherever. She tells you about the girls she saw on the Metro North, girls with giant sunglasses that reflect every microscopic movement around them with perfect accuracy. Tan even in between their toes and beneath the overhang of their long, glossy fingernails and cuticles that look like plastic. Girls fidgeting with their iPhones and chewing gum and talking about nothing with other girls who are also chewing gum. Girls who speak in a dialect of “yeahs” said with slightly varied inflection. Paragraphs of communication that contain only the word Yeah. Yeah? Yeahhhh. yeah. Yeah-uh. YEAH. Nothing has ever seemed as imperative, as urgent, as two of these girls showing each other text messages, what he said, what she said, what happened last night . “Like I love him obviously but he’s so stupid what does this even mean?” You are washing a dish in the sink while she relays this to you. She comes up behind you and kisses the back of your neck. She says lots of words that are not yeah.

It’s later the same day. You are with her on a corner downtown. She is standing barefoot, holding her high heels, taking no prisoners. And then she is sending terse emails to her boss in the cab on the way to the restaurant, giving the middle finger to her phone, putting her phone in her bag and her hand on your thigh, looking at you now like her boss never existed, only you and her, right here. It is after the restaurant. You are standing and sweating on a subway platform with her, wondering if you are getting on the right train, not giving a fuck if you are getting on the right train, smiling at the sleeping man on this not-right train with a newspaper and a half-eaten apple still in his hand.

When you get home her collarbones shine in the light of an infomercial about exfoliants or food processers. She is falling asleep against your shoulder; she is mumbling something semi-consciously about giraffes or the end of the world. In the morning she is sitting on the radiator with her feet on the window sill, smoking cigarettes as the sun comes up, sky the color of Trix Yogurt. Watching the people across the street washing their clothes in the sink and drying them on the fire escape, windows glowing all over like fireflies.

She is an absolute conqueror in this world without you, but sometimes it seems like she likes having you here.

You are leaving her place now. You are standing in the fog on a train platform at six in the morning, in a half-conscious mass of people going to work, faces down, grunting and hiking bag straps on their shoulders. You feel the deep dull ache of the unknown and then the pulsing high of confronting that unknown, you and her, what it is, what it will be.You are listening to the Ronettes as loud as they will go, young girls singing about the guy who left them but then he came back, how ephemeral all this is anyway.

You stare down at the tracks, at the Burger King cups and Skittles wrappers and discarded MetroCards. You think about how these are remnants of other people’s lives, things that were at a moment essential to their existence. That someone had to make a train to meet a girl and dug in a pocket for a dollar to cram into a slot on a robot machine. Then that someone watched the crumpled corners disappear and prayed that the dollar wasn’t rejected, and in this instant his brain played a montage of every other dollar he had ever inserted into a robot machine, soda machines and cigarette machines and arcades, and whether those were more crumpled but were accepted anyway, what his chances were now, because he loved this girl and maybe she loved him, and he was trying to find out.

You think about how we are alone in infinity, ricocheting between stimuli and hope and orgasms. We wander. We stare out train windows, at bedroom ceilings, examining the nail pops in the sheetrock, eating reheated egg rolls, trying to understand it. You are standing there like he was standing there, you don’t know where you are going, you don’t care, you drift. She is somewhere and you are here and in the meantime you wait.

- John Saward, Vice