<p>Uncle Bobby’s Work Advice is the ultimate guide to surviving—and maybe even thriving—in the workplace. From cozying up to the boss to making career-limiting moves (for fun or profit), this is the kind of advice HR hopes you never follow. Whether you climb the ladder or slide down it, you’ll laugh the whole way.</p>
Refuse to work, blame jet lag even if you never traveled, and delete your to-do list like it’s a cursed scroll—because oozing back into reality is Bobby’s foolproof plan for post-vacation survival.
Skip all preparation and embrace chaos-driven wisdom—Uncle Bobby swears you’ll learn everything after you crash and burn.
Treat the office coffee like a bitter rite of passage, choke it down with dead-eyed resolve, and accept that survival—not flavor—is the only goal.
Survive the post-holiday slog by faking connectivity issues, ignoring your inbox, and randomly clicking in spreadsheets to look busy without doing a single useful thing.
Master the art of faking focus, taking luxurious bathroom "vacations," and launching decoy emails to look busy while doing absolutely nothing.
Fake official signs, blanket forts, and thermostat conspiracy theories—Uncle Bobby’s strategy for office climate wars is pure chaotic genius disguised as terrible advice.
Appear productive by staring at fake spreadsheets, speak in meaningless buzzwords, and weaponize passive-aggressive email subjects like a true office ninja.
Skip the dreams and make a failure board instead—because nothing says self-improvement like reliving your worst decisions with glitter and glue.
Uncle Bobby swears the secret to holiday success is giving the laziest gift possible — like batteries with a sarcastic note — because caring too much is for amateurs.
Master the art of festive procrastination by burying projects under candy canes, blaming Secret Santa for missed deadlines, and weaponizing hot cocoa in meetings.
Fight obnoxious candles with even worse ones, deploy industrial fans as scent warfare, and weaponize sarcasm until HR or the fire marshal cries uncle.
Fake a dramatic illness worthy of an Emmy, dress like a blinking Christmas tree, and rack up points for every awkward encounter like it’s holiday bingo.