Pssst.
Hey...hey you.
Yeah...You in the vibrating trench coat holding the blow up doll of Emeril Lagasse.
By the way...
What the fuck?!
Here...come closer...
I have a confession to make.
You see, you may have read before that I have to go to physical therapy for my hand.
And that my therapist slightly resembles an elderly man's foot.
However, if it wasn't for her...
..I wouldn't have met Bob.
You see:
I. Love. Bob.
My therapist introduced me to Bob, and we haven't parted since.
I love Bob because:
1) I can hold and squeeze him whenever I feel like it
2) Bob will go with me anywhere.
This includes meetings at work and, sometimes, when I poo.
3) He fits so well in my hand, that it seems we were made for each other.
4) Bob is soft, yet I can be rough with him when I need to.
And he never judges me.
Probably because he can't speak.
5) No matter where I go, Bob is always in my pants.
Ladies and Gentlemen...
I present to you...
BOB:
Bob is my sponge.
Sponge. Bob.
Get it?
Yeah - I've got a million of 'em.
Unfortunately, most of them suck just like that one.
My therapist gave me this sponge so I can try to get feeling and movement back in my hand.
So, most of my time is spent squishing and smooshing ol' Bob here.
And I DO mean MOST of my time.
That picture there?
He's sitting on top of the toilet roll dispenser here in the men's room at work as I sit inches away with my pants around my ankles disposing of last night's Pad Thai in a most noisy fashion.
That's dedication for you.
Good boy, Bob. Good boy.
Now...back in the pants!
UPDATE:
So, at about 8:30 this morning...I left my desk to head into our lab.
This is rare for me, as I usually try to avoid doing work while I'm here.
When I returned to my desk....
...I was greeted by this:
"I can't believe you left me! - Bob"
Wow.
Don't I feel like an asshole, now.
Sorry, Bob.
Won't happen again, buddy.
By the way...
...you write like a girl.
Now you're DEFINITELY going back in the pants.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
For the Love of Bob
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
29 comments:
Your Bob reminds me of my stress ball. Said stress ball is supposed to be rubber but is now too soft that you can consider it to be made of cloth. You see, I had too much stress in my life and said stress ball absorbed all of it..sigh.
I'm surprised she didn't prescribe little mooog.
I mean it's in your hand so much that BOB is kind of pointless.
You need to be more public with your chronic masturbation.
LOL.
sorry moog, i had to stop reading after your description of releasing (loudly) the Pad Thai dinner from night before. EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWw
Oh my god I remember that painting guy. Of all the things from my childhood I could have blocked that one stuck around.
Bob is a good buddy....until he starts telling you to kill hobos.
"Sponge Bob" I just got it! LMAO - I'm easily amused...
Dammit, have you been taking pictures in the bathroom again??? WTF man? If you break the unwritten rules then someone will just have to write them and then EVERYONE LOSES!
I remember the days when I spent most of my time holding a sponge... Hold on, I'm still holding one. According to my man washing up has always my favourite past time and who is he to take it away from me. Too bad my sponge doesn't leave me a note once in a while. "Piss off" would be nice xx
Bob spelled backwards is...umm...Bob. A life lesson in there somewhere Im sure.
Bob asked me to write that for him. He made me do it over because I dotted the "i" and exclamation points with hearts the first time.
He thought that was a little much.
Hmmm, My Bob has batteries.
Demi: Somewhere..out there...some guy is praying to be reincarnated as a stress ball.
Nice job.
Mike: Little Moog is available over the counter.
Ask for it at your pharmacy today!
Cindee: I could have said 'drunken noodles' but that seemed too graphic.
Lbluca: "...and now we're gonna add a nice happy tree...right there...MMMMPPPHHH!!"
Becky: You say that like there's something wrong with killing hobos.
Fiona: Stay with us, Fiona...always moving here...always moving...
Douglas: It's okay...I had Bob's expressed, written consent.
Elise: I'd say it's time you got yourself some therapy.
Coolred: ..and if you add another 'o' in the middle, you got 'boob.'
I like that life lesson better.
LiLu: I suppose it was ALSO you who wrote the letter from my anal beads, too?
You're crafty.
Stacie: Thanks for the stock tip...investing in Duracell now...
What a great Fro!
What a girl gotta do to be able to shove her hands down her pants and squeeze her sponge all day?
And I bet your other hand is soooo jealous.
Don't men usually have their hands down their pants grabbing at something anyway?
Zibbs: What? I shave my balls.
Oh...you mean the painter guy.
Nevermind.
BonDon: If you're waiting for an excuse to do it, you have my blessing.
Coffee: Mr. Righty still gets himself plenty o' action.
Sadly.
Kellie: Your point?
how dare you leave Bob behind! after all the abuse you put him thru you can at least take him out to dinner or something. I mean, after all most of the time he is keeping Mr. Wiggly company. The poor Sponge deserves some quality time with you.
See, I was going to go with your penis, but I was wrong
Amazing how much happiness one sponge can bring.
Hopefully you won't ever run out of TP at work.
Otherwise ... Poor Bob.
Maybe you should have named him...her...heshe Bobbie.
Does Bob know that you're shamelessly exploiting him on here? Does he? Does he?
On a side note, does the black marker come off when it gets wet?
SUUUURE you were just taking a dump. SUUUUUURE you weren't doing anything else.
Office wanker.
I'm telling HR.
Bob is my witness.
Jo Ke: I'd never use Bob in lieu of toilet paper.
That's what illegal immigrants are for.
Trukin: ..or 'Pat'...I see...keep it asexual.
Tricky, Trukin...tricky.
Christina: Does the black marker come off when it gets wet?
Are we still talking about Bob here?
Narm: Don't tell HR. Chances are that they'll fire me and keep Bob.
I do that little work.
You don't use "that" particular Bob for doing the dishes, too, do you? LOL
Do you think Bob enjoys being in your pants all day long, or in the toilet with you?
Glad you have a little friend now.
Love the NOTE! That's awesome!
Bob needs to be fumigated.
Post a Comment