Freezing Feud Declare Your Climate Control
Establish yourself as the office weather god by locking the thermostat in a display case, banning space heaters as contraband, and declaring your preferred temperature an unbreakable law.
Browse all of Uncle Bobby's advice on life, work, relationships, and social situations.
Establish yourself as the office weather god by locking the thermostat in a display case, banning space heaters as contraband, and declaring your preferred temperature an unbreakable law.
Weaponize indecision, fake bad restaurant options, threaten a hunger strike, and if that fails—just start driving until they surrender to dinner.
Forget the budget—Uncle Bobby says dominate Secret Santa with spotlighted plaques, QR-coded power moves, and a morale-crushing survey rigged for glory.
Fake expertise with dramatic sighs, derail the agenda using nonsense jargon, and manipulate lighting like you're staging a corporate soap opera.
Pretend their selfish gift is the best thing ever—then guard it like it's cursed treasure so they never benefit from it again.
Take control of the potluck by interrogating freeloaders, banishing bland veggie trays to culinary exile, and fake-praising suspect dishes like your life depends on it.
Seize control of the group chat with a secret government, drown your enemies in irrelevant memes, and establish a dictatorship by muting the masses.
Combat cheesy office slogans with deadpan sarcasm, weaponized posters, and just enough menace to make HR nervous.
Declare your driveway a sovereign nation, install random traffic cones, and intimidate trespassers with dead-eyed crow stares and concrete geese—because driveway diplomacy is for cowards.
Protect your lunch by labeling it “MEDICAL SAMPLE,” launching psychological warfare with rotten decoys, or setting trap containers to sabotage the fridge bandits—and if all else fails, let the seagulls feast.
If someone didn’t bring a dish, Uncle Bobby says they don’t get a dish—so guard your stuffing like it’s gold and be ready to bury your leftovers in the yard if the fridge is full.
Embrace every petty gripe like a sacred art form, weaponize snack disputes, and silently destroy your in-laws with smug, long-game vengeance.