The Yard birds

Jim from Splivey writes:
Bob, I never heard of you before. But after reading some of your archived stuff, I found I’ve heard of stuff you’ve written, but not you. WHAT GIVES!

Dear Jimmy,
I think folks don’t think I’m real, so they quote stuff I write about but don’t reference me. Maybe someday Bob Senitram will be a household name but until then, I was born during the big banana famine in 1879. I never really seemed to age, but I like to eat sweet beets whenever I can. Here’s the whole history of TheWeirdcrap.com and its staff (from the “Original Weirdcrap page.”


I had a bunch of leaves to rake up this weekend. When we first moved in from an apartment, rakin’ and mowin’ was a real treat. But now, five years later, it really seems like a pain in the ass. Then to top it all off, it takes about an hour to blow the leaves out the alley.

So I call up Stephen Johnson (Lunatic Ravings) to see if he’ll send a few residents from Crack Whore Village to help out. I figure they’ll work for dirt-cheap and would appreciate the break from their normal duties. He sends a red head and a blonde and tells ‘em I got a long blow-job in the alley and some hard-dirty-outside-leaf-work.

They show up and the next thing I know the red-head is blowin’ my neighbor in the alley, and the blonde is naked as a jay bird rollin around in leaves yellin’, “I wanna be dirty!”.

Since we got kids in the neighborhood, I throw a bucket of water on the whore #1, but her jaw locks and now I gotta get a stick and unlock her jaw, just like a pit-bull. Then I tell crack whore #2 to get some some clothes on and explain the real work I need done. They walk out just like that.

To make matters worse, Crack Whore Village is in the West Coast somewhere. I thought there was a local one in town, but turns out there isn’t. Stephen flew them down from L.A. Then he sends me an email with the airline bill.

And I ended up doin’ the work my own self.

Which all goes to prove that Stephen is a stupid-lazy-bastard who isn’t getting dime one from me.


Speaking of stupid whores, I heard that country song again about the guy who sings about “Livin’ life like you were dyin’…Booo-hooo-hooo…”

Well I’m an avid smoker, and I imagine my last days bald from Chemo, suckin’ cigarettes from my trach hole, and lying in bed all day coughing. I don’t see any sky divin’ or bull ridin’ or any shit like that in my last days. Oh, well, that song just seems corny to me.


And now you know!

YOU WANNA SEND ME A QUESTION?

Gimme’ your name, where you from, and a question. That’s it.

COMING NEXT: A big dump!

A Time to Remember

When I checked my email I found no one asked any questions, so I’m flyin’ solo today. I watched “Click” or “Remote” or whatever the name of that Adam Sandler movie is…I watched it. Not bad.

When they show him in the future, it’s cool when you see how things change, then I noticed how things changed for me.

When I was in college (using student loans), I lived in a basement apartment, rode a ten-speed to college and work. In the winter I took the bus and walked. Often my weekly budget allowed $10 food. I still remember a walk to McDonalds for chicken McNuggets on a Friday night was a real treat.

This Sunday I took a trip to the store riding a new Malibu purchased this summer, and came home to a nice 3 level house with an attractive wife and two nice kids. Big difference.

During one summer, I had so little money, I took the bus to work and walked home (1½ hr walk), I skipped lunches because I had no lunch, and sipped koolaid with extra sugar from a liter cup that I brought with me. The extra sugar stopped me from getting too hungry during the day. I remember one week, a sack of potatoes was the weeks entire food budget.

I guess the moral of the story is get an education. No matter who you are, no matter what the situation…get an education. I may take ten years to make a difference, but a difference it will make.

Speaking of poorly educated individuals, here’s something for all the poor republican politicians out there. I know George Bush is anxious to help you guys out, but his help may hurt more than help. So here’s a nice rejection letter I put together for you guys.


Dear Mr. President

I am delighted by your offer to help our campaign!

However, we have a conflicting schedule on the date you specified (enter date here). On that day, I plan to: (check one)

__ Wash my hair

__ Clean my fish tank

__ Take my GED test

Thanks for taking the time to consider our campaign.

Although campaigning together is out of the question, perhaps we could just be friends.

Sincerely,
(YOUR NAME HERE)


And now you know.

YOU WANNA SEND ME A QUESTION?

Gimme’ your name, where you from, and a question. That’s it.

COMING NEXT: A big surprise!