Healthy Living? More like Guacamole Smoothie Hell, Says Uncle Bobby
Skip the gym and grab a cupcake in each hand—Uncle Bobby swears snack binging counts as cardio and cheese platters are emotional weightlifting.
Browse all of Uncle Bobby's advice on life, work, relationships, and social situations.
Skip the gym and grab a cupcake in each hand—Uncle Bobby swears snack binging counts as cardio and cheese platters are emotional weightlifting.
To spice up your marriage, boldly upgrade to Fajita Fridays and let the smoke alarm fan the flames of romance.
Change your life by swapping meatloaf for chili fries, adopting an iguana, and flirting with competitive bird watching—because adventure starts with gravy.
Propose to your cat, marry yourself, or leave wedding magazines everywhere like romantic booby traps — because subtlety and self-engagement are apparently the keys to everlasting love.
Uncle Bobby confidently suggests ditching the diet, befriending your extra pounds, and embracing junk food as your emotional support system.
Give it a year, and if his action figures don’t start calling you ‘stepmom,’ you might actually have a shot at being the real woman in his life.
Ditch the jogging shoes, grab some stretchy pants, and count fridge-to-couch sprints as cardio—Uncle Bobby’s fitness plan burns calories through sarcasm and snack retrieval.
Start a kale-based hot dog cart, open a drive-thru juice cleanse shack, and sell leftover entrepreneurial energy on eBay — because nothing screams success like trendy failure and caffeinated delusion.
Uncle Bobby insists the best way to bond with your team is by leading a fake wage strike, managing from a broom closet, or flaunting gourmet lunches like a benevolent tyrant.
Turn every room into a snack zone, tape candy bars to your monitor for “motivation,” and justify constant munching with fridge walks—because snacking isn’t a habit, it’s a lifestyle.
Uncle Bobby suggests you spice up your predictable life by hiding your car keys in the freezer, skipping bill payments for thrills, and turning your sock drawer into an adrenaline-fueled lottery.
Declare your mother-in-law the “Queen of the Critiques,” present her with a scepter, and renovate her room into a dust-filled rodent paradise until she flees the kingdom.