Yeah that’s right, I’m Rob. Random Rob. Why ’m I called Random Rob? That’s cause I’m random baby. One minute I’m driving home in my pimped out minivan and the next minute I’m sitting on a giraffe eating gravy, uhhhh….assuming there is a large gravy supply nearby of course….and a reasonably domesticated giraffe, the wild ones scare the willies out of me with those sharp teeth of theirs.. Umm…yes *cough* but when you’re someone as cool and hip as “Random Rob” things like that happen all the time.

Oh sure, nowadays everyone thinks it’s “cool” to be random, maybe even “funny”, but there’s nothing funny about waking up in the middle of the night only to find your self humping conveniently shaped medical supplies.

I’m kinda what you kids would call a “superhero”, you know one of those cats who wears a cape and occasionally exposes himself to old people for a laugh, except sometimes they laugh……….yeeeah…….that sucks for self confidence……
I’ve been a superhero in this town for as long as I can remember, and it ain’t easy competing for street cred round these parts. You got a lota competition starting out in the superhero business, specially with crazy kids like Maskboy™ suddenly dropping from the sky lathered in gold jewelry which he strangely manages to ”liberate” on a almost daily basis.

One of my greatest challenges came when Harry, my sidekick who just apparently happens to be a rabbit of the homosexual variety was kidnapped.
I didn’t eat for three weeks after Harry went missing, mainly because I relied on him for income via his part time job of whoring himself.
Then I finally figured out who of all the villains in this city could be villainous enough to steal a mans hardworking gay rabbit. It was the most evil of all men, a man that could drill away a mans pride in only a few seconds, it was the…..Ortho-DOOM-tist (Really stupid name play, but uhh…bear with me).

I suited up in that glorious suit my grandmother had paintstakingly nitted for me during her battle with terminal blindness, I was ready to randomize the bastard.

There I stood outside his office, sure he was, John Laviera, mild mannered orthodontist, loyal husband and father by day but he was a dentist rotten to the core by night. The situation was dangerous, my heart was pounding and I was about to face a man who even cavities could not conquer. A familiar smell filled my nostrils, I needed a change of underwear.

I bitch smacked that door open like it was a new can of Pringles. The sight that massacred my eyes upon entrance was Harry sitting on the chair with a dreadful look upon his face, and that damn dentist laying on the floor in a strange mix of blood and pepsi. …..At least it tasted like pepsi….

I took Harry and asked no questions, the situation turned out pretty messy but at least it was better than that one time I tried to prove my randomness by mating with a piano…………..in public.

Ramble inspired and further published by www.robpongi.com
Rambles are written by Basjohn on a biweekly-drunken-slur basis.
Ideas for future rambles can be sent to Rambles@roughtoiletpaper.com