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10/16/00

Ask Bob!
By "Bob Senitram"

June Wilkins, Salt Lake City, Utah:
Dear Bob, I hear about internet millionaires all the time, just how much do you and Stephen make? P.S. Why does Stephen hate Mormons, so?

Dear June, Please don't be misled by Stephens recent articles. He doesn't just hate Mormons, he hates everyone. He's just currently annoyed by Mormons in General, because he just moved to Salt Lake City, and recently while taking a walk in the park with his wife, a little Mormon Baby, jumped from his stroller and chased Stephen and his wife all over the park.

Stephens wife fell down, dropped their baby and the Baby Mormon Demon ate Stephen's Baby, Jerome Jr.. Now he thinks all Mormons eat babys. I told him that it was an isolated incident, but he won't have any of it.

Since you're from SLC, maybe you could stop by and save his soul. He needs some Churchin' up. He'll be so glad to see you!

As for being internet millionaires, well it just hasn't happened yet. At least I don't think so. I've never seen the advertising revenue from TheWeirdcrap.com since our corporate take-over. You see, Weirdcrap was taken over by a group of investors which formed "Weirdcrap Industries." TheWeirdcrap.com is now a subsidiary of "Weirdcrap Industries."

The primary shareholder for "Weirdcrap Industries" is "Sludge Incorporated," (they own 98.5 % of TheWeirdcrap.com, and Stephen and I get 0.75 % of the profits of TheWeirdcrap.com). Sludge Inc. keep sewers clean in big cities. Now Sludge Incorporated is owned by "The Pipe-O Company." They make big ol' pipes that pipe the shit out of our houses. Pipe-O Co. is owned by "Repo Inc." They "reposes" cars...actually they just steal them. Then they go and melt 'em down and make big pipes for The Pipe-O Co. Repo Inc. is controlled by "Big Joe Palzone," known as "Little Fingers." Me and Stephen have no idea what "controlled by" means, and we're afraid to ask. Finally, Big Joe only answers to "The Boss."

The Boss is real busy right now, with the elections goin' on and all.

Recently I asked "Little Fingers" if I could look at the books for the company. His face turned red and he rammed my head through his office window, then threw me out the window.

I took that as a "no."

A week later I got a bill for the broken window.

I have to ask Big Joe for everything, because he refuses to talk to Stephen. He says Stephen smells funky. Which is true. See, Stephen is a real hairy guy...he's like an Ewok, only stupider. Well because of his hairyness, he has big bunches of fur on his ass. So when he takes a shit, it's practically impossible to get all the feces off all that hair on his butt.

To make matters worse, he sweats alot, because of all that hair on his body...now he's got butt sweat, drippin' down on his hairy-poopy butt, which guth's up a smell, somethin' fearce! Well, it just smells.

It smells bad.

That's why Big Joe won't talk to Stephen. So now we needed money to pay for our new "dot-com" domain name. So I'm in a meeting with the Weirdcrap staff, and everyone's too chicken to talk to Big Joe, except Stephen, but Big Joe won't talk to Stephen on account of his butt-funk. So I says, I say, "Someone's gonna have to go in that office and talk to Little Fingers...And I guess it's gonna have to be me!!! And I run head first into Joe's office.

I go right into his office and tell him to his face that we need some cash. That's when he rammed my head through his office window, then threw me out the window.

I took that as a "no," and we took up a collection at the office to pay for the dot-com domain name.

A week later I got a bill for the broken window.

It seems Little Fingers has a little temper, but he reacted quite differently when I explained I was in trouble with "Johnny Law," and couldn't write the commentary. Being in trouble with the law is something he respects, so when I gave him the bad news notice...this time he rammed my head into the wall, and threw my down the stairs.


And now you know.

Marty from Seattle, Washington
How come I can't teach my Pitt bulls to fetch my beer?

Dear Marty, Since I don't have a Pitt bull myself, I had to find someone who did. I turned to my streetwise friend who can get you just about anything, anytime. It don't matter what it is...beer, wine, pokers, pickers...anything. This time, I needed someone who had a Pitt bull.

He took me to meet Nathan, He runs Pitt bull fights and also raised two prime fighters...

"So can your Pitt bulls fetch you beers?" I asked.

"Nope."

"How come?"

"Never tried it."

"Can I?" I asked.

"Sure, go ahead." Nathan has two Pitt bulls, "Ms. Kitty" and "Mr. Ed," he let me into Mr. Eds Cage with a beer, where I would see if he would fetch it for me. "Hey, Bob. Don't say his 'fighting word' or he'll go crazy and mess you up."

"But won't he only attack if you say the magic fighting word?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah that's right. Don't worry about it then."

"I don't know his fight word, anyway." I added.

"Oh really? I thought I told you...it's 'loose-fitting-lids.'" he replied.

At that, Mr. Ed went crazy. Running around, chasing his tail - jumping up, barking. Finally he leapt toward me and landed his jaw on my arm and started shaking his head wildly. His jaw was locked onto my arm. I knew the only way I would get loose was if Nathan called him off. I looked over toward Nathan. He had collapsed and was lying on the ground paralyzed by his own laughter.

Now I got really mad. Being attacked is one thing, but that dog made me spill my beer. I figured what's good for the goose is good for the, for the...oh, whatever. I bit down as hard as I could on Mr. Ed's neck, but it only made him madder and he shook his head even more violently and tore my arm clean off. blood spurted out in all directions and I passed out.

I woke up in a hospital a week later, and decided that I would never be able to train someone else's Pitt Bull to get beer, but I might be able to train my own dog to get beer. But I didn't want a dog...I had to think of something else.

Me and Jerome put our heads together to figure out an experiment that would allow me to test my hypothesis. After a week, we came up with the solution. All we have to do is open up a daycare center and teach the little babies to fight like animals. They would be our "Simulated Pitt Bulls." When their training is complete, we will then try to teach them to fetch beer.

Soon "Bob and Jeromes Self Defense for Toddlers and Daycare Center" was open for business!

The first step in our training process, was not to feed the kids all day, then we'd throw two of 'em in a crib with one jar of baby food and let 'em go at it. This was to train them to be tough and to hate other kids.

Boy, them little babies can be pretty fierce if you let 'em get hungry enough. I even trained my star pupil to attack when ever I said "loose fitting lids."

The second step was to take 'em out back and let them hang from their mouths on old jeans that we had tied to some trees. This would make their jaws nice and strong, so they could bite down hard, like a Pitt bulls. Soon, Nathan was running a "Baby Fighting Business," we were making a bunch of cash from bets that were placed on the kids.

But I didn't forget your question...three law suites later, I was ready to train my star fighter to fetch beer. I went into his cage with a beer in my hand, ready to start the fetching lessons.

Just then, Nathan came to visit. "Say, are you gonna try to teach your best fighter to fetch beer?"

"Yup." I replied.

"Loose-fitting-lids." Nathan yelled.

"Idiot." I replied. "He'll only attack If I say loose-fitting-lids..."

At that, the child leapt toward me and locked his jaw on my only good arm...

A week later, I woke up in the hospital. They saved my arm and I'm waiting for a transplant to replace my other arm that was bitten off by Mr. Ed. The doctor says while he's at it, he'll replace my liver and lungs too. I guess all that smokin' and drinkin' has finally caught up with me.

I'm hoping someone dies soon so I can have their body parts.

And now you know.