Suffocated Border - Lawn Siege Defense Strategy
Turn your yard into a sovereign nation complete with border ceremonies, gnome juries, and a velvet-roped red carpet that dead-ends in sprinkler-powered shame.
Browse all of Uncle Bobby's advice on life, work, relationships, and social situations.
Turn your yard into a sovereign nation complete with border ceremonies, gnome juries, and a velvet-roped red carpet that dead-ends in sprinkler-powered shame.
Uncle Bobby suggests dodging office oversharers with laminated silence notices, Gregorian-shower confessions, and baby carrots as emotional armor—because nothing says "professional" like choreography and root vegetables.
Institute a full-blown household economy where you mint your own Chore Credits, tax gratitude, and host chore auctions, all while running passive mental load income like a petty domestic overlord.
Turn your lunch into a power play by crunching like thunder, narrating your seasoning like a performance review, and weaponizing snacks until the meeting submits to your fork.
<p>Take command of your snoring battlefield with fan fortresses, kazoo counterattacks, and penalty flags for "airway encroachment"—because bedtime is war and you're the unblinking admiral.</p>
Declare yourself in a "soft launch phase" and fend off resolution-makers with smug eye contact and cryptic warm beverages.
Assert dominance by stealing their blanket, blasting laundry at 10 p.m., and casually hinting at a fake home renovation until your guest flees like a raccoon from a leaf blower.
Charge into the store like a linebacker, grab random gift sets like they’re emotional statements, and use gift receipts as diplomatic cover for your chaos.
Run your household visit like a military operation with snack rations, chore charts disguised as welcome boards, and tactical isolation of family chaos agents.
Turn the holidays into a full-contact sport with mailbox leaderboards, cupcake sanctions, and a potluck judged like Iron Chef with flashlights and zero winners.
Declare holiday no-fly zones, triple-book chaos cameos, and schedule morale games to dodge work—all while wielding a glitter baton like the world’s most unqualified parade marshal.
<p>December work isn’t real work — it’s a performance. Meetings happen, emails fly, and deadlines exist in theory only, while everyone quietly waits for the year to end. Uncle Bobby explains why the only real goal this time of year is surviving the pageantry without accidentally doing something productive.</p>