Every once in a while in the ho-hum routine that becomes adult life something small gives you hope that things will still be funny even though you are increasingly feeling out of the loop. These tiny victories are what life becomes when you turn 30. These moments when you actually get to enjoy things for a second. Today I saw that T.J. Lane, fresh off of bringing “sike” out of its decades long hibernation this past winter, has started the spring with an attempt to bring back the word renob.
Shout it from the mountain tops and let its majestic tone bring joy into the valleys, renob is back.
Of all the words at all the times it just had to be renob. I don’t know if we’ve ever lived in an era that has spawned so many renobs. I ask you a very serious question, what is with people today and their total renob attitudes? I know that you know what I mean. Maybe you have never had a name to place on that certain something that turns you off about all the renobs this nation seems to produce, but now you do. Call them renobs, unless they are total renobs.
You know the type and you know him well. I say he because I have yet to meet a female renob, but the problem with renobs is that they can often hide in plain sight. There may be a lady renob somewhere, but I don’t know her and I don’t intend on going out of my way to find her. Most renobs are male of the bro and dude type. However they don’t quite fit those labels because they are not very cool. They dress one way and act another. Nothing they say is interesting and most of it is just rehashed renob talking points about renob subjects. They only smoke the worst shit and they drink lukewarm beer. They think everything is “bunk” and order their steaks well done with extra ketchup. They also put ketchup on their eggs (“Oh no I do that!” is what you just said if you’re a renob. Congrats, you just failed the renob test.) Anyway,
They listen to Master P because they just heard about him. They fart in front of hot girls they have no chance with and blame it on you. They flirt with your family members and they yell shoot the puck at Penguins games. Oh renobs, the forgotten cousin of the beat ass and the close friend of the total doucher, we know you well and your time is coming to an end. You will be called out, in parking lots of grocery stores and from the cars behind you on the highway as you text your best friend Cambone. You will hear “you beat ass renob” and everyone will know what that means and they’ll look at you and say that guy really is a beat ass renob For that you can thank TJ Lane, who was brave enough to bring back renob so that we could all call people it again.
Thank you TJ for doing the right thing and restoring relevance to a term that we dearly missed in our popular lexicon.
Dictated by Danny Brassnooche, Edited by Chinese Dave, Written by Pregnant Lucy and Triple Terry under the influence of Triple C’s