Tuesday, June 2, 2009
The Gloves are off
Welcome my followers. You are in the midst of greatness and better off for spending a few moments here - make your sacrifice complete and bring a friend. It's always better to experience the Eskimo Bob with a friend - and witnesses.
Many of you may have noticed a decline in the quality of the posts. I know I have. Somehow I had lost focus on the adventure of the Cyberspace in which we started on and became more journally and intimate than I had planned. I blame it on the imported marijuana. I live in the Matanuska Valley of Alaska which produces world famous Grass. It's called 'Thunder Fu(%' So why turn to South of the border weed when it's available right outside my door?
But no more. I'm back to basics - and just as the marijuana namesake: I'm gonna be raining some TF.
"But Eskimo Bob - you don't drink, smoke, dance, or make fun of people with special needs. How can you bring this up? You're the father of two boys who will be looking at this someday and deduce that you are giving your 'O.K' for them to experiment with mind altering drugs."
(Dancing, holding a red plastic cup, listening to Rastafarian jams and holding what looks like a water bong). "What? What did you say man? You have really small eyes and very large teeth. . . are you going to eat my Grandma? . . . Where's my Twinkie? I have munchies."
"EB - really. This isn't funny. You're glorifying drug use and debauchery."
(Taking a drink from the red plastic cup). "Your forehead is very wavy . . . if you had the American flag painted on your head I'd salute you." (Begins marching and making tooting sounds with protruding lips).
[Blank stare and absent minded shaking of head] "Oh . . . Eskimo Bob. What happened?"
My follower - you have entered the Cyber Space. . . no drugs needed; enjoy the ride and add your own take on the sitch. . . bring on your own TF. See you in the comments: