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Ask Bob!
It seems that the 07/05/02 commentary brought a large response from our Internet audience! Unfortunately few of the emails were concerned whether we should keep Bob on staff or give him the big boot. Oh well, we'll take what we can get. We told Bob he had to answer all the email he received last week. He almost quit, but by Wednesday he beat that high Pac Man score in that Atari, and decided to get back to writing. So, to the disappointment of TheWeirdcrap.com staff and most our readers, heeeeerrrrrreeeeeee's Bob: I'm Pissed! All I asked my old lady to do, was write one itsy, bitsy commentary because I had the flu. And she calls me a bum and accuses me of chain smoking Generic brand cigarettes. Lies, all lies. She hurd about all them Internet affairs the kids are all excited about, and thought I would run off with the first Internet slut, bitch, whore, that wrote to me. So she wanted me to seem undesirable. I don't know why, she knows first-hand how undesirable I am. Then I tell her when I do get email from some lady, it's a nice email like this one: Ranebo writes: Congradulations!!!! i read about the baby and thought that that is really cool. well, good luck with the bundle of joy and have fun!!!!! Anomonys (um......i am a bad speller, dont make fun of me!!!) LoL Dear Ranebo: That's really nice thing to say! Thanks! Then the ol' lady points out this email: HeavenlyExtremes asks: Bob do you like it when a girl flirts with you and if so, do you respond to it? How about when you flirt with a girl does she take it as a major turn off or does she just want you to be yourself? Dear HeavenlyExtremes: Thanks a lot, now my ol' lady's mad at me! To answer your question, a woman I worked with flirted a few years back. Thinking I was doing the right thing, I held up my wedding ring with one hand and slapped her with the other. Then I thanked her for the compliment, apologized for slapping her and pinched her behind. I drink a lot of coffee and eat a lot of candy bars. With all that sugar and caffeine in my system, I'm often happy and mad at the same time. I tried to explain this to her, but she just bitch-slapped me and before you know it, an all out brawl broke out. It ended with her sitting on my chest slapping me repeatedly while I let out a high pitch scream and cried like a little school girl. We had a lot of close contact and she ended up on top of me, so I guess I did ok! As far as me flirting, I haven't done that since I was single. But this is what I used to do: I noticed a lot of attractive women at bars were with guys with great big bellies. So I figure that's what women like. I didn't have a big belly, but I made do. I'd prop one arm against a wall, poke my belly out as far as it would go and say, "Hey sugar, with these six beers in my big belly you don't look half bad...wana dance!" Usually they just said, "No." Then I'd just say nonchalantly, "No big deal, this big belly of mine holds a lot of shit and I was gonna go take a crap anyways." I'd always make a point of mentioning my "big belly" since that's what women like. One time a lady said, "Why yes, I'd love to dance with you and your wonderful big belly!" I didn't know if she was joking, but it didn't matter because I don't know how to dance. The need never really came up before. So to get out of this sticky situation, I stuck to what always worked and said, "No big deal, this big belly of mine holds a lot of shit and I was gonna go take a crap anyways." She said, "I'll be right here waiting," in a sultry voice. I got really nervous and headed right toward the bathroom. I took a long time, hoping she would go away because I was nervous and didn't know what to do. I did my best to to push out the meal I just ate a half hour ago and regretted that I didn't chew my food better, because it really hurt. When I got out of the bathroom an hour later she was still there! I said, "Hello there." She looked at the front of my pants, pointed and said, "What the hell is that!" I looked down. Apparently when I was washing my hands, some water splashed on the front of my pants and it looked like I pee'd on myself. She said, "Hey, why don't you shake your money-maker after you go to the bathroom! YOU'RE MAKING ME SICK!" Then she left and I never saw her again. And now you know! COMING NEXT: That Telemarketing thing - I think! Email Bob! webmaster@theweirdcrap.com
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