Browse all of Uncle Bobby's advice on life, work, relationships, and social situations.
Uncle Bobby swears the best way to pack is waiting until the last minute, chucking random stuff in, and trusting the travel gods to sort it out.
Own your lateness with confidence, carry a coffee like a prop of power, and if questioned, claim mysterious “fires” only you could put out—because time is a vengeful illusion and punctuality is a scam.
Defeat the jar using a crowbar, pretend you never liked peanut butter anyway, or summon a mysterious child who apparently holds the key to all stubborn lids.
Demand your coffee like a legend by giving them a fake name so powerful—like Commander Falcon—they can’t help but serve you with respect and fear.
Refuse to give in to the self-checkout machine’s tyranny—fight it with pride, blame the bagging area for all crimes, and never, ever admit defeat.
Coast on fumes like it's a sport, top up with five bucks at a time for that false sense of victory, and blame your gas gauge for sabotaging your life—all part of Uncle Bobby’s foolproof fuel strategy.
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.
Buy twelve pens knowing most will fail, one will vanish, and the last one will betray you—because pens have unionized and chaos is the business model.
Surrender to the gas pump overlords, embrace the penny theft, and if you ever hit an even dollar, flee immediately before they realize their mistake.
Stare down your dryer, threaten it with a ransom note, and accept that your missing socks now fuel an underground sock-based economy.
Forget folding—just wad that rebellious sheet into a ball and cram it in the closet like a renegade laundry warrior.
Embrace the chaos, trust nothing, and accept that microwaving food is a lawless gamble best approached with zero expectations and a fireproof tongue.