Viewport width =
July 9, 2007 | by  | in Opinion |
Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

Bobby’s World

Nimble as a tree frog with the strength of ten men, each with the strength of ten men, bench pressing the weight of the dark with his left and writing poems with his right. He rips lips of wack rappers to free the words…

I have returned – fresh with an army of calculatingly conniving and virile clones, the first step in my master plan for world domination. Ready to ravage anything in a skirt, pants, or lack thereof, myselves and I march on the world to spread the word of peace and love, to lead the peoples of Earth into a new age of spiritual evolution, and possibly to smash some serious shit up along the way.

Perfecting the art of cloning to create my army of awesomeness was no small feat, let me tell you. The logistics of feeding myselves and I alone is enough to make the average person balk; considering I can barely af- ford to feed one of me at the best of times, feeding a horde of I would at first appear infeasible. I had to carefully create an algorithm to deduce the number of selves needed to be killed daily to feed the rest against the number of clones the cloning vats would need to produce weekly to replenish the ones being eaten. The whole system is wonderfully self sufficient, and I was delighted to learn I taste like shoulder bacon. Asides the question of what I taste like, an unexpected bonus of this whole process was being able to resolve various existential problems that have been plaguing me for quite some time. Like, could I beat myself in a fight or would it be a dead even match? Could I hold a conversation with a copy of myself or would I already know what I was thinking? And, what would sex with myself be like? Actually, the answer to the fight question was never quite resolved, as it would always end up further answering the sex question. Ah well, let the experiments continue!

For the record, Bobby’s World originally ran for the first semester of 2006, my last semester at university. I then left Wellington and hence discontinued my efforts as a columnist. Since then, after several months of working and saving, I fled this fair country to explore the wonders of South America. I returned home a month or two ago and became a professional hobo, hitchhiking around the North Island visiting friends and family and doing a bit of WWOOFing on the side. Now, at last, I have returned. Back to the beautiful and wondrous Wellington, where I am currently residing in a cupboard and living off the artists benefit. And now, welcome back to Bobby’s World.

Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

About the Author ()

Comments are closed.

Recent posts

  1. An (im)possible dream: Living Wage for Vic Books
  2. Salient and VUW tussle over Official Information Act requests
  3. One Ocean
  4. Orphanage voluntourism a harmful exercise
  5. Interview with Grayson Gilmour
  6. Political Round Up
  7. A Town Like Alice — Nevil Shute
  8. Presidential Address
  9. Do You Ever Feel Like a Plastic Bag?
  10. Sport
1

Editor's Pick

In Which a Boy Leaves

: - SPONSORED - I’ve always been a fairly lucky kid. I essentially lucked out at birth, being born white, male, heterosexual, to a well off family. My life was never going to be particularly hard. And so my tale begins, with another stroke of sheer luck. After my girlfriend sugge