You have 20 minutes to write a post that includes the words mailbox, bluejay, plate, syrup, and ink. And one more detail…the story must include a dog named Bob.
Okay, first of all, why the dog gotta be named Bob. Why not Fred, or Ralph, or Pierre? Oh, because Bob is simple and it sounds funny.
It’s pretty much the first sound that comes out of babies mouths.
Bah bah bah bah bah bah bah….
And then there’s always that, “Hey, did you know your name is the same forward and backward?”
OMG, really!? I had no idea! How did you figure that out? Your a frickin’ genius!!! Is your name Sheldon Cooper? Can I touch you? Seriously, call the newspapers. That is the story of the century!
I’m such a sarcastic jerk at times. So pour some syrup on me and stuff me in a mailbox.
Sometimes, I tell people that everyone in my family has palindromic names. They act surprised. “Really!” And then they go what’s a palindrome? And then I have to explain it.
Yeah, well there’s me, Bob, and then Mom and Dad and Sis. And then they stare at me like I’m an idiot.
There’s also Bro, but we disowned him because he’s Orb.
I’ve never heard of a dog named Bob. Ever. You can’t even find it on a Coke bottle. At least I’ve never seen it. All of my friends are like, “Hey, my name’s on a Coke bottle.” Mine’s not. It’s like The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown all over again.
I got some Candy!
I got a quarter!
I got some popcorn!
I got a rock
You never see a ventriloquist dummy named Bob. You know why? Try saying Bob without opening your mouth.
My last name starts with a B, so in addition to having a palindromic name, I have an alliterative name. When I introduce myself I have to sputter out 3 B’s. It does not flow off of the lips. It’s like, “Okay, I’ll introduce myself, but get out of the way so I don’t spit all over you.” Sometimes, the last B in Bob and the B in my last name run together. Like it’s one word. And then people are like, “Okay, but what’s your LAST name”. Ummmm, never mind.
At work, they don’t even call me Bob. They call me Bee Oh Bee. They spell it out; like I’m the easiest word at the Scripps National Spelling Bee. One time I looked up B.O.B. in the urban dictionary. Do you know what the first entry was? Battery Operated Boyfriend. That’s right, a vibrator.
Some people go by Bobby. I can’t do it. I just can’t. To me, if your name is Bobby, you’re either one of 3 things:
A, in the mafia
B, 5 years old
C. married to Whitney Houston, or part of the Brady family
If you go by Bobby, I apologize. I’m sure you’re fabulous. Please don’t throw a plate or some ink at me.
Well, my 20 minutes is up. I think I’ll go outside and listen to the birds singing. Oh look, a bluejay!
Categories: Daily Prompt