Welcome to My Substack.

Meta Can Choke.

My dearest friends on the internet,…(or as I prefer to say—Dear Sentient Can Openers),

Welcome to the new digital throne room of me, Bob: cancer-killing machine, Fancy Feast connoisseur, blanket fort architect, and long-suffering soulmate to The Woman. If you’re here, it means one of two things:

1. You love me.

2. You’re trying to hack me again.

If it’s the former—thank you. If it’s the latter—may your inbox be forever cursed with promotional emails from Spirit Airlines.

Now, let’s get right to the question everyone’s asking:
“Bob, where have you been?!”

Simple answer: I’ve been locked out of Facebook and Instagram thanks to the villainy of Meta. Some vile beast tried to hack my account. Meta responded by swiftly and efficiently punishing me—the innocent, majestic victim—by shutting down access to my pages entirely. It’s been over a week. The Woman has emailed, appealed, begged, cried, and even considered sending Zuckerberg a glitter bomb. Nothing. Radio silence. Apparently, if you're not selling ads or arguing with your aunt in the comments, Meta doesn't care.

So I’ve decided to make a bold move. A writer of my caliber deserves better. I mean, really—Facebook? That’s where your uncle posts blurry memes about soup. This? This is Substack. This is where writers write. This is where thinkers think. This is where, I, Bob, will now reside.

Substack is my new cozy corner of the internet—complete with a freshly folded towel and absolutely zero vile algorithms. And guess what? I’ll be posting here daily. That’s right. Every. Single. Day. I promise.

You’ll find:

• Fresh daily doses of Bobisms, observations, and unfiltered snark

• Weekly Bobington Post essays (still full of heart and headbutts)

• Surprise life advice from a cat who has seen some things and lived to talk about it

• Updates on my ongoing war against cancer, vile beasts, and Mark Zuckerberg

We’re starting fresh here, which means I need your help. If you’ve ever laughed, cried, or nodded in silent feline agreement while reading one of my posts—please share this Substack with a friend. Or ten. Or that lady in your knitting group who also has a suspiciously judgmental tabby.

Tell them Bob lives here now.
Tell them the legend continues.
Tell them Zuckerberg can choke.

Very truly yours,
Bob

Bob the Writing Cat
Cancer-Killing Machine | Vile Beast Supervisor | Substack Superstar

P.S. Check back tomorrow. And the day after that. And the one after that. The Woman says I should pace myself, but I say—full steam ahead until I need a nap.