Sub-Zero Helicopter Lands on a Hotbed of Savings

Sub-Zero Helicopter Lands on a Hotbed of SavingsI used to be a helicopter jockey, just like you. I soared around the heavens without a single care, imagining a day when multi-bladed aerovehicles might replace cars in the gridlock-choked heckscapes of urban sprawl circulating from cities like blooming — but poisoned — flowers. The dirty veins of the interstate clog oh, so easily with the peppery dots of congestion caused by every Mitsubishi, Subaru, and Honda Civic on the highway trying to outdo one another in achieving a final destination of comfort over causality.

Humans don’t always see the big picture, you know?

We all think we have the answers; I include myself in this assessment. It’s hard not to when you’re perched above the aforementioned heckscapes, whether for purposes of whisking away the accident prone to their insurance-approved hospitals of choice or conveying traffic patterns to the commute-disenfranchised who pine for your kind of access to the traffic-dodging tech, above.

What if I told you that — at least in a realistically vicarious sense — you could own your own helicopter for only 29 bucks, cashmoneyamerican?

Okay, fine. When pressed further, I must confess that said helicopter can only transport your pet hamster from place to place, but shouldn’t your pets be pulling their weight and helping the household with jobs of their own in this troubled economy? Wouldn’t it be nice if you could send Mortimer (or whatever people are naming their hamsters these days) to the office by remote-controlled helicopter instead of driving him like you usually do every business day?

Behold! The 21st century is now! You can send your indentured furball to work from the privacy of your own home (as long as you live within range of this tiny, remote-controlled helicopter, which is likely ample).

Find out more about the Sub-Zero Helicopter before your friends beat you to it. They’re sneaky like that, you know?

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Our resident "Bob" (pictured here through the lens of photographer Jason DeFillippo) is in love with a woman who talks to animals. He has a fondness for belting out songs about seafaring and whiskey (arguably inappropriate in most social situations). He's arm-wrestled robots and won. He was born in a lighthouse on the storm-tossed shores of an island that has since been washed away and forgotten, so he's technically a citizen of nowhere. He's never killed in anger. He once underwent therapy for having an alien in his face, but he assures us that he's now feeling "much better." Fogarty also claims that he was once marooned along a tiny archipelago and survived for months using only his wits and a machete, but we find that a little hard to believe.