Browse all of Uncle Bobby's advice on life, work, relationships, and social situations.
Uncle Bobby says to survive a kid-filled field trip by wearing sunglasses to hide your soul's slow departure, embracing the chaos, and rewarding yourself with deep-fried silence and amnesia.
Toss the packet, say a fake farewell, and claim your kid’s education now involves chasing lizards in the yard.
Mail $17 in cash to seem emotionally invested, invent foot surgery to avoid parties, and never underestimate the value of free punch and awkward slideshows.
Declare victory if your kid hasn’t brought ranch instead of water and lie boldly about the reading log—Uncle Bobby says coasting counts as heroic parenting.
Uncle Bobby says Fridays in May require just one loud email, fake typing, and ghosting the office by 4 PM like it's a paid escape plan.
Spend like you're buying her love, wrap mediocrity in glitter and lies, and prepare for gourmet combat at brunch—with cold eggs and crushing guilt on the menu.
Book the first thing you find, embrace the madness, and enjoy your parking lot view like a smug genius while everyone else loses their minds.
Let your lawn turn into a jungle, call weeds a pollinator paradise, and convince your neighbors that laziness is an advanced form of eco-consciousness.
Wear a $2 sombrero like it’s sacred family treasure, butcher Spanish with pride, and let tequila guide your life decisions—all in the name of Cinco de Bobb-o.
Survive May by choosing one event at random to care about, faking your way through a couple more, and ghosting the rest with confident confusion and strategic muttering.
Skip hydration, pack beer, and battle spring like it’s peak summer with a sunburn, a questionable sandwich, and a fierce need to dominate UV rays and decency.
Fake a jog so your neighbors still think you care about fitness and prepare for the apocalypse of weather with a backup box fan and a damp towel fashion statement.