Uncle Bobbys Spills the Beans: Surviving the Slow Drip Dance of an Oil Change
Skip the shop and baptize your engine with a jug of motor oil while muttering “good enough”—it’s faster, cheaper, and only mildly insane.
Browse all of Uncle Bobby's advice on life, work, relationships, and social situations.
Skip the shop and baptize your engine with a jug of motor oil while muttering “good enough”—it’s faster, cheaper, and only mildly insane.
Uncle Bobby swears the only way to fix your smart home is to chuck your Wi-Fi air fryer into the yard and embrace the noble simplicity of clap-on lights and twisty knobs.
Go full martyr with flair: sign everything “on behalf of the silent majority,” watermark your work with shade, and replace your team's faces with stock photos.
If it fits in Tupperware, it's still a meal—so keep eating Easter leftovers until Memorial Day and microwave those stale Peeps like a true festive warrior.
Uncle Bobby recommends hiding chores, gas cards, and mini bottles of bourbon in Easter eggs to turn your hunt into a chaotic life lesson in capitalism and candy-fueled despair.
Uncle Bobby says shopping carts deserve freedom, so skip the return and let them roam like metallic wild stallions—think modern art, passive-aggressive puzzles, or high-speed rogue sociology.
Uncle Bobby says reckless flirting isn’t a red flag—it’s a superpower, and cheating isn’t betrayal, it’s heart-pounding cardio with bonus legal fees.
Claim business deductions for Arby’s trips, pretend an audit is a dance, and remember: confidently rounding numbers is basically doing taxes.
Let autocorrect run wild and text like a deranged wisdom guru—no one can fight fate, or “lunch cow at noon.”
Avoid Friday surprise tasks by faking meetings, pretending to cough up cruise ship germs, and loudly announcing you have to feed a diabetic ferret.
Confuse the group chat into submission with cryptic fan photos, fake debts, and psychological warfare—because leaving is for amateurs.
Store one container of each size, toss the rest in a chaos bin, and embrace dumpster-diving through plastic like a proud kitchen raccoon.