Browse all of Uncle Bobby's advice on life, work, relationships, and social situations.
Forget savings and practicality — slap flames on the sides, max out a loan, and let the midlife crisis roar through a spoiler the size of a picnic table.
March into that salon like a brave warrior armed with a grill manual, demand a drink with an umbrella, and treat your foot scrub like a once-in-a-lifetime survival story worthy of steak and applause.
Uncle Bobby suggests battling plant obsession by unleashing your own chaos: buy a house-sized monstrosity of a plant, assign dramatic personalities to ferns, or demand compensation in the form of pinball machines and giant Rock cutouts.
Crank your A/C to arctic blast, wear hoodies indoors, and carry a towel like it’s armor against the Florida sauna—Uncle Bobby’s survival guide is sweat-soaked and spectacularly unhelpful.
To end game night once and for all, Bobby suggests sabotaging the fun with fake rules, intense theatrics, and a 17-hour farming simulation guaranteed to crush spirits and friendships alike.
Keep pouring cash into your sputtering junker, befriend tow truck drivers for "networking," and send your car off with a Viking funeral when it croaks — because loyalty beats logic every time.
Interrupt every joke with your own louder version, rate his punchlines like an Olympic judge, and hand out Bingo cards where the grand prize is earplugs.
Fight noise with noise by becoming an even louder office menace—think jackhammer typing, sloshing coffee like a stormy sea, and foghorn email alerts.
Start putting up Christmas decorations in October to assert dominance over your neighbors and confuse the calendar into giving you more holiday cheer.
If your spouse wants a fifth golden retriever, surprise them with two more and convert a room into a canine palace — because nothing screams love like a full-blown golden retriever kingdom.
Wear your fluffiest robe, clutch a hot cocoa, and claim the title of “Official Holiday Photographer” to dodge the 5K while securing prime couch position before the parade starts.
Forget nutrition—Uncle Bobby says bread shopping is best done blindfolded, guided only by the thrill of random grabs and shiny packaging.