The Importance of Being Bob

I am named after my father, thus making me a junior. I’ve met many other “juniors” over the years, it’s like a secret club, and we can always tell each other apart in a crowd. Something about the slumped shoulders of one bearing the weight of succession. But given the fact that I share a

HAPPY NEW YEA- Oh.

Well, it’s 2013 and we’re all still here. The planet, I mean. Nothing happened, no explosions, no asteroids, no John Cusack in a limo. Nothing. Fucking Mayans. I realize, what with it being February, that it’s a bit late for me to be making 2012 Apocalypse jokes, but I really don’t care. Not much has