Tuesday, August 10, 2004

It's madness, I say! Madness!

It is a tale of old, the legend of Bob the Mad Bus Driver.
There it is again. Bob. Some of my Bob friends must begin to think I am taking the piss. But I am not. It may help to tell why most of my mind creatures end up being called Bob.
Bob is the name we come up with whenever we can’t find another one in time. Sometimes it is just a running gag, but it all started with, as I’m sure I have told before, Blackadder. You just haven’t lived if you haven’t seen Rowan Atkinson plop out "BOB!" like the cork from a bottle of bubbly.)

Blackadder: What is your name, boy?
”Boy”: Kate.
Blackadder: Kate, that's an unusual name for a boy.
”Boy“: It's short for ... Bob.

This is how Bob the bus driver got his name.
Sometime last year Dom and I were on the bus to town, and bored as we were (even though we don’t have to be very bored to do this), we checked out the ads on the bus ceiling. The thing with Dom and me is, we have a tendency to notice things that are quite ordinary but suddenly strike us as immensely funny.

“Check this out,” I said and pointed to an ad requesting drivers for Yellow Buses. The ad showed the drawing of a bus driver who looked practically ecstatic – way too happy to be trustworthy. In fact, what he wore was the grin of a lunatic. His spider-like fingers clutched the wheel in a death grip.

I pointed that out to Dom. “Look at him,” I said, “He’s lost it. He had to work overtime and had passengers pay him with £20 notes or had to drive some pikeys around, and at some point something in his brain went ‘ping’. See that manic twitch in his left eye?”
The thing with Dom and me is, once we get started, we can’t stop. We get each other all revved up on it.

“What’s his name?” I wondered.

Dom and I looked at each other, thinking the same thing. “BOB!”, we said in unison, and that was the birth of Bob the Mad Bus Driver.

“It’s BOB the Mad Bus Driver!”, I exclaimed, squinted one eye into a nervous twitch, pulled rabbit teeth and clutched an invisible wheel, hollering with the voice of a malicious retard that made Dom shrink into his seat in embarrassment: “Herherher, I’m gonna drive you off a cliff!”

I think I scared one or two kids that day, but Ads, one of my workmates at the time, is my biggest fan. He can’t get enough of BOB. Neither can I. Which is why you have to suffer through this right now.
Yes. I am very popular.


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