Rob clings to a glass of port in a stormy week, while Jon sips Early Grey from porcelain, pinky aloft, monocle firmly clenched in his roving eye.
As Pebble plummets into the ocean of redundant tech we wonder if smartwatches are actually not that smart. Jon’s hair is ruffled by Google’s wind-powered server farms, while Rob’s syrup stays in place with a dab of Bostonian molasses.
This week the gents ponder over the pearls of wisdom they would cast upon their younger selves. If only they would just listen…
Pies are mincey. It’s nearly Christmas after all.