From the sounds of it, the spawnage have a fairly inspired art teacher at school. They come home with some pretty wacky projects that aren't usually your bullshit construction paper, yarn and Elmer's grade school slapdash-o-ramas. Mr. Z has been talking about a t-shirt that he's been working on for the last coupla weeks -- apparently, each kid created their own design and then made some sort of crude silk-screen to transfer it to the shirt. He came home wearing the finished product today:
Is that the greatest fucking t-shirt ever, or what?! Robots rule. Truer today than ever.
ME: That shirt is AWESOME, Mr. Z!
MR. Z: Yeah... it's not what I originally wanted to do, though.
ME: Really? What was the original idea?
MR. Z: It was going to say 'Robots Rule but Aliens Drool," but it wouldn't all fit on the shirt. So I just went with 'Robots Rule.'
ME: Wise choice. I mean... what else is there to say?
Maybe I should quit my job and have Mr. Z just crank out more unwittingly ironic slacker shirts that I could sell over at Urban Outfitters for like 40 bucks a pop. The boy's a marketing genius!