A friend recently asked me if my dog’s ball was my her crack cocaine. He meant, does she want to play ball like a gazillion times a day, every day, non-stop, forever? Sadly, yeah. You see, my dog does five things, repeatedly, all day long: sleep, eat, poop, bark at the neighbors walking by outside, play ball. And if you work at home, at some point the joy of playing fetch with your dog wears off, and you end up feeling like your life is an interminable game of tic-tac-toe with a four year old. They can’t get enough of it, you want to slit your wrists. Now imagine playing tic-tac-toe every day, five or six times day, for the next fifteen years. Now you get the picture.
So, an engineer came up with this:
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