Whither the Minions?

Hidy Friends,

I'm not even sure what "whither" means. But it sounded old timey and I was kind of feeling that way lately. Kind of old. Kind of timey. But still, we must press on. Whether it is fake tatooes or fake fingernails. We must press on.

And oh how Bob would want us to be pressed. Not de pressed but be pressed. Once again, I only repeat what Bob tells me. I do not necessarily know what he means. But that wilt not stop me from interpreting that which hath not been previously known into a form or manner that which wilt benefit me untoward, dot com. And, yea, perhaps not post previously known. Remember, I got my doctoral degree from the Pink Divinity School of Everlasting Candy, so I know of what I speak. More or less.

And, although Bob speaks through me in paradoxyllelograms, I must always maintain a turgid stance for Bob, lest those who art less than rigid shalt fall into their own flacidness.

Which brings us to the problem at hand-- where are the Minions? I can remember when RevBob was followed like a regionl touring rock star. Why, I would have up to 2 free drinks and occassionaly free parking at some of my personal preaching appearances. Several semi-throngs* of fans and minions would hound me and clamour after me. But now, I am in the back-shadows of perhaps-never-was. I just hope you wilt tell others, and let them know that Bob lives.

Peace On You!
RevBob


*semi-throng: more than 1 but usually less than 3 people