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All about Bob
(By Bob Sh.) Hi, I am Bob! Bob Shakespeare! I am tall, white, and handsome, and 23 years old, kind of reddish-blond hair, but I lost my leg from the Iraq War. Well, I did not loose it, exactly, because I know right where it is, but I will tell you about that later. I am single, and I am not a heavy drinker, just beer, but I am a little shy with the ladies, so if I sound okay to you even though I have only the one leg, maybe you can send me a email note, I would like that. I am definitely going to quit smoking, too. I also have a stepbrother, Jack, but he is gay. Our mother and our two dads--three, if you count Eddie--they are dead. You may not believe this but I can prove it because I have got William junior's Bible from 1616, which is when he came to Virginia colony, and his whole trunk of papers, which I will tell you about later. Here is what I said you may not believe, only I know you are going believe it later, because I have been getting help copying out the manuscripts, which I will show you: I, Bob, am the great great great great great great great great great great great-grandson (13th generation) of a famous writer. I will tell you about him later. He is a very important genius for the books he wrote. He wrote plays, and some poems, no novels or magazines that I can find out about. I have tried reading some of his stuff myself and I will admit I could not really get into it---most of the plays is pretty tough, but believe me, everyone says it, not just me, that my ancestor is one of the great geniuses who ever lived. I have already found a bunch of information about him on the Internet, you can look him up for yourself: William Shakespeare. There is another famous Shakespeare who makes fishing tackle, but I am not related to him. When they showed me at work---this was three, four years ago---how to cruise the Internet, I typed in my last name, Shakespeare, to see what come up, and I got more than one hundred million hits, and I thought to myself, Whoa, I did not know there was that many of us Shakespeares on the entire earth! Only there was not, there were not that many different Shakespeares, because almost all of those gazillion Web pages were for the same person, this William Shakespeare the writer, who lived a long time ago, from 1564-1616, who I never knew was my ancestor, and I don't think my daddy knew it, either, even though it in was his old trunk full of papers. Here is something I have learned from the Internet, not from my daddy's trunk full of old papers. People now recognize that this William Shakespeare was such a creative genius that some people do not even believe he ever really existed, but was really just a normal person named Marlowe or DeVere or Bacon or Stanley; only I can prove he really did exist, because of these papers from Virginia that I am going to show you later, and I even have some things William wrote, in his own hand, only for a genius he had the most god-awful writing you ever seen, you can hardly make out the words, so I am getting some help with that. Here's a sample of his writing:  I have got five William Shakespeares in my family tree, and so that there will be no confusion, the famous William Shakespeare, I will call him "the writer," although his son---the one who settled in Virginia---calls his father "Will Shakespeare," not William, but it is definitely the same guy who wrote the famous plays. And the writer's son, my next ancestor down, William Jr., I will call him "Wilm" (which is what people called him, "Wilm" or "Willm," not "Will" or "Billie"). In the manuscripts, and even in the family Bible from Virginia colony, our family name is sometimes "Shakespeare," and sometimes "Shakspear" or even "Shaxpeare," because this Wilm who I have been telling you about, who was the writer's son, could not spell for shit. Our family Bible says that Wilm, born in 1602, was "a basterd"---only not a bastard in the literal sense. It is not saying that he was ever a mean son of a bitch, or a drunk, the way my father was, and Eddie. What it means is that Wilm was born by his father (the famous writer) outside holy matrimony, on another man's wife. I do not blame you if you have a problem with that, but I am just telling it to you straight. I think every family tree has some skeletons or gay people in the closets, not just mine. Personally, I believe in God, and I would not ever, ever, fuck another man's wife. I would especially not do it if I was already married and had said my vows, because I believe God wants us to be faithful during holy matrimony. But in one way, I am glad that the writer did it, i.e., that he fucked another man’s wife, or else I would probably not exist, and may God forgive me for saying that, but it is just how I feel about it. The writer's father was not a "William." The writer's daddy (Wilm's grandfather) is said to have been a gluemaker named "John," from Startford in Auon, which is somewheres back east, not in Virginia, I believe on the other side of the ocean, which is where Willm come from, which was ruled in those days by a king, not by a president, and Wilm's town in Virginia was named after him (the king). What I know about the writer and about his son Wilm, comes partly from our old Virginia bible, which is worth a ton of money but I'm not selling, or also from this wrinkly, kind of waxy bundle of papers tied with string that is been in my family for hundreds of years. Wilm, he wanted to write a complete history about the Shakespeare family, but no one in Virginia really cared about that, nor about plays, nor about his famous father. And Wilm, he was himself so busy with planting tobacco and fighting the Indians, and he never finished the family history but he left lots of papers which has come down to me through my own father, Clark Shakespeare, who is dead. My guess from what Wilm says is that his daddy, the writer, had some sodomite tendencies, and if you do not know what I mean by that, then read your bible, but I do believe it could be true because my brother Jack is the same way, even though he is not got any Shakespeare blood in him, but he was always just fruity, even as a kid, and no one ever did anything to make him that way. And I am definitely not gay, I just have not found the right lady. Wilm says in the manuscripts, that his daddy spent three or four years chasing a young buck named Earle, who the writer thought was a pretty fair youth in most ways but who jilted him instead, for no reason, but my guess is that Earle just liked women better, and he didn't care if the writer's name was Thomas Harris or Tom Clancy. To mend his sad heart the writer, William Shakespeare, went back to Startford, where he ended up in bed with a widow named "Allice Forde of Rowington." And that must of been somewhere around Febuary 1602, because Wilm was born on November 27 of that year, and baptized on December 5, which means they must of sprinkled him instead of dunking him, which is pretty surprising because everyone in my family is been Baptist for as far back as I know. And the writer bought a little cottage on Chapel Lane, in Startford, for the baby and Alice to live in, and she is the one who brung him up, because Wilm's father, the writer, was just never around, so I guess that runs in the family, only I have promised the Lord I will not be like that if I ever get married and have a son; and I will promise my fiancy the same thing if I can just find the right girl and we fall in love and we get engaged. Anyway, to make a long story short for the time being, the bottom line is that I, Bob, am the last male descendant of the most famous Shakespeare on our entire family tree. And if I do not have a boy child someday, that will be the end of it, the end of the Shakespeare genius male line. I had a baby girl once, but I do not know what come of her. Susan, that was her mother, run off with her, but that was way back in high school, nearly seven years ago, and I would not do that again if I had it to do over. It is tough to find girls where I live. If you stick out high school and play on the football team, then maybe. But for most guys it is just hopeless. And I am not talking about finding a virgin. After a while, guys like me, in my county, we just do not even think about single virgins any more. When you think you have found yourself a virgin, and she may say she is a virgin, but sooner or later you find out that some body else got there first, and you are just lucky if it was not her uncle or stepdaddy, because then she is screwed up emotionally. And that is just how it is in my county. So I am perfectly okay with someone experienced, or a divorcee without kids. I am not ready to have children just yet, I have got issues, but I am not against having kids. And I would truly wish to have a boy someday, to carry on the Shakespeare male line. Check back later and I will tell you some more about Bob, and about William and Wilm Shakespeare, too, and maybe about my experience in Iraq. My dog:  My gun collection:  My house:  My other cars:  My leg:  My friend Eddie, who worked medical waste, he saved her for me, and hung her out to drain, and packed her in salt, and I sneaked her back home with me aboard a C-130 transport. And my brother Jack had this old aquarium three feet long and 13 inches wide and 20 inches high that's been empty ever since he moved to New York. So when I got home, I bought 40 gallon of formaldehyde from this laboratory supply, and I saved her. She looks kind of pasty white and unhealthy, but I got an emotional attachment and I can not just bury her. I love my leg, and you just would not know how that is until a tragedy like this has happened to you personally. By the way, my ancestor, William Shakespeare the writer, also had a bad leg. In the manuscripts it says he had a nag---not a woman, but a horse or maybe it was a mule---and the nag's name was Fortune, who kicked the writer and shattered his leg, and crippled him. That was in 1590. Only he never actually lost his leg, the way I did. He just had to walk with a cane after that. I do not think that anyone had any right to blow my leg off. But I do not blame that tragedy on President Bush, nor do I blame it on God, because they did not have anything to do with it. The only people I blame for blowing my leg off are the people who built and planted the IED, which was the terrorists themselves, and the IED is what blew my leg off. |
Bob's Links: Bob's Favorites: The Onion Pandora Rotten Tomatoes YouTube Bob's War Watch: Body Count, US Body Counter, Iraqi Iraq Daily News Soldiers For Truth
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