A LETTER TO THE U.S. PATENT OFFICE

Dear U.S. Patent Office,

I’d like to file for a patent for my new invention.  I call it the “Douglas.”  My name is not Douglas so don't ask.  The Douglas was designed to assist families with their everyday household needs.  It acts very similar to Rosie.  Not Rosie from the Jetsons but Rosie Perez.  Just kidding --Rosie from the Jetsons.  I have built one prototype “Douglas” in my garage.  I used various things from around the house.  However, it is mainly built out of parts from my oven and shoehorn.  So far there are three main glitches to its system.  I wish to get a patent while I’m still trying to fix these glitches so nobody beats me to the punch.  My neighbor is already building an “Alexander” in his garage.  I’d like to sue him and his wife's father.

Glitch #1:  The first major glitch to the “Douglas” is that it keeps asking me if I want any crills.  I don’t want any because I do not have any idea what they are.  “Can I get you some crills, sir?” is what he says, all the time.  One time I finally said yes so I could see what they were and he just kind of stood there in shock.  I don’t think he knows what they are either.

Glitch #2:  He devoured and ate my dog.  He got right down to the bone.  I love dogs but I’m afraid to get a new one.  I can’t bear to see another shredded beagle on my sofa.

Glitch #3:  I think he’s gay.  There’s nothing wrong with being gay.  But I’d rather my robot not have any sexual preference.  It’s a little awkward.  He’s really into Kenny Loggins and catnaps.  I try to ignore it but, ya know…

Ultimately I’d like to just have him do a few simple things for me after I fix his minor tinkers.  I’d like him to get me my coffee, rub my back, fix me a salad, hose me down, bring me to the trampoline, make me lunch, make me a little snack, plow the driveway, plow into me, make me din-din, spot me, read to me, dance for me for a bit (like an Egyptian), hike up my pants, another snack, move the car around back, adjust the shower water, hack up the remaining logs, deal me a winner, try to gross me out (but stop just before you do,) join me in a puzzle, jog my memory, prank phone calls to Mini Driver, loosen my hat, garden, wipe around the bowl, set up a game of Rummy Q, fight me off with a long branch, fire up the grill, speak to me in a somber tone, speak to me in a whimsical tone, spare me my dignity, give me a Heimlich,  I said Heimlich not Heinecken, turn on the blow torch, turn on your heart light (not yet installed,) pump up the volume, hang ten, hang loose, match my previous offer, horse around, you rack, I’ll break, stay away from the sump, pretend to swim on the couch, lance my boil, claim your winnings, run for it, rewind That Darn Cat starring Christina Ricci and Doug E. Doug, feed my darn cat, throw caution to the wind, check yourself before you wreck yourself, make me a sandwich without bread, choose or lose, put away my gambling chips, get rid of that zero and find yourself a hero, act like Sly of the Family Stone, mock my beliefs, perform a mock wedding, tickle my ribs, make a blunder with the blender, cover up my bruises, heckle me beyond belief, sucker punch the neighbor, make me want to shoop, call me a hermit and then apologize, talk like Huckleberry Hound, make up lies and then say "sike," tell Mitchell to go away, Don’t even front, don’t hate congratulate, dial 9 to get out, get out, come back, reach for my car keys, make fun of my foibles, do the monster mash, try to wink even though you can’t, peek at my personables, call a hooker but don’t answer the door, and  put me to bed by 9:15 after closing the drapes and rearrange my father’s coins.  That’s all I want him to do.  Many families can benefit from a robot like this.  I’ve enclosed $29.95 for my patent.  Please mail it to my home address.  I will not be home but Douglas will sign for it.

Sincerely,

Jon