Home sweet home
Bob's sister Hannah
Bob's sister Ada
Bob's brother Otto
Bob's sister Eve
Bob's sister Nan
A baby picture of Bob and his siblings (clockwise from upper left: Otto, Eve, Hannah, Ada, Bob, and Nan)
Bob's childhood home
Bob's mom and dad
Bob in his youth
Bob's cousin Alphonse
Bob's Uncle Ralph and Aunt Edna
Bob's cousin Archibald
Bob's stepbrother Herbie (who really needs to quit smoking)
Bob's cousin Chester
Bob's Great Uncle Norbert and Great Aunt Phyllis
Bob's cousin Saffron (who will do anything for a drink)
Bob's cousin Thorndike
Bob's brother-in-law Vinnie
Bob's cousin Orville, who loves the Green Bay Packers
Bob's nieces Lulu and Bitsy, the biker chicks
Bob's stepsister Eloise, with the twins, Rudy and Trudy
Bob's Uncle Henry and Aunt Rowena
Bob's niece Esmerelda (who likes to live dangerously)
Bob's Great Uncle Arthur up in Saskatchewan
Bob's cousin Louie, the grackle of grumpiness
Miss Screech, Bob's journalism teacher
Bob's nephew Winthrop, who loves sports
Bob's Uncle Seymour and Aunt Bernice
Bob's second cousin Schlomo in Brooklyn
Bob's nephew Baxter
Bob's cousin Darrell
Nigel, Bob's pen pal in New Zealand
Bob's sister-in-law Delphine, who volunteers at the animal shelter
Percy the Pickpocket, Bob's third cousin once removed (the relative no one likes to talk about... every family has one)
The Bluebird of Happinessâ„¢ (no relation to Bob)
A pair of boobies (also no relation to Bob, but included for readers who desire titillation)
A pair of tits (in case the boobies were insufficiently titillating)
Bluebird Bitterâ„¢, the beer they named for Bob
bluebird of bitterness 
Funny!
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Sesame Street should incorporate that Cookie Monster joke in an episode. It would provide some humor for parents watching the show with their children and, in this grand Age of Technology, some children might understand it too.
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Ha, ha. What am I laughing at? I remember things much earlier than that. 😀 — Suzanne
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I hear you! Back in ’59 thru ’63, we lived on an old English Manor in Leiston, England. Dad was stationed for 4 years at Bentwaters RAF, dragged us along with him. The telephone had NO dial, and was powered by 6 of those those old/large 1.5v wet cells – you had to pick up the handset and ask for the Operator to connect you! That part of England was a wee bit behind the times…
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Egorr: …The telephone had NO dial… you had to pick up the handset and ask for the Operator to connect you!…
When I was a wee tad, I would pick up the receiver on our dial-less deskset, wait for the operator to say, “Num-ber plee-ease?” I’d speak clearly (as we were taught in those AT&T phone etiquette films) my friend’s number, which was easy for me because it was “two, four, six.” She’d say thank you and connect me to Tommy’s house.
So, I always tell the young’n’s, we had voice-activated dialing ‘way back then. Everything since has been a step back. 😀
☎
While I’m rambling phone-tically, I figure the biggest improvement in phone technology over the decades has been (drumroll) replacing the dial with buttons. Why? Well, that circular impression on your index finger if you dialed a lot of calls, for one thing. But mostly…
There’s an emergency (it’s1950s), who do you call? Dial “Operator.” And as seconds count, you dial whirr — all the way around the dial, wait for it to clickety-click back. Or, later, it’s now 911 – so you dial the 9, almost as long to dial as the “O” — why couldn’t they just make 0 the first dial position, or later make emergency = 111? Well, moot now. All buttons are created equal.
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The one about the twitter account is brilliant.
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A lot of truth here.
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