his-bobness

I ain’t too good at conversation, girl
So you might not know exactly how I feel
But if I could, I’d bring you to the mountaintop, girl
And build you a house made out of stainless steel
But it’s like I’m stuck inside a painting
That’s hanging in the Louvre
My throat starts to tickle and my nose itches
But I know that I can’t move

-Bob Dylan

bad bob zimmermann cried when his son graduated and if you ask him about it he wholeheartedly admits to crying and starts telling you about how much he loves is son and how proud he is & he might even start showing you some pictures of jack again and honestly if you don’t walk away too soon he might get choked up a lil bit and tons of people thinks it’s ridiculous but what bad bob doesn’t tell them is that the worst feeling he ever experienced was the way his heart seemed to ice over when he had to face the reality that he might not be a father anymore and he is just so gosh darn happy he doesn’t feel that way anymore because his son was so strong and he pulled through and he got better and bob loves him so much and he’s so proud and did he tell you about the one time one of jacks grade 11 history essays was published in an academic journal his son is so smart and

Tangled

She lit a burner on the stove
And offered me a pipe
“I thought you’d never say hello,” she said
“You look like the silent type”
Then she opened up a book of poems
And handed it to me
Written by an Italian poet
From the thirteenth century
And every one of them words rang true
And glowed like burnin’ coal
Pourin’ off of every page
Like it was written in my soul
from me to you

-Bob Dylan

Oh my god. Bob Morley’s fucking smile is so fucking infectious. Like I see his fucking pure cinnamon sugar cookie face smile and it’s as if the heavens have opened up before me and presented me with the personification of joy and I can’t help but fucking grin.

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Wayback Wednesday with his Bobness and a tune that could talk to a lot of us - most of the time. From his 1989 release Oh Mercy. I’m hearin’ ya Bob…

Most of the time
I’m clear focused all around
Most of the time
I can keep both feet on the ground
I can follow the path, I can read the signs
Stay right with it when the road unwinds
I can handle whatever I stumble upon
I don’t even notice she’s gone
Most of the time

Most of the time
It’s well understood
Most of the time
I wouldn’t change it if I could
I can make it all match up, I can hold my own
I can deal with the situation right down to the bone
I can survive, I can endure
And I don’t even think about her
Most of the time

Most of the time
My head is on straight
Most of the time
I’m strong enough not to hate
I don’t build up illusion ’til it makes me sick
I ain’t afraid of confusion no matter how thick
I can smile in the face of mankind
Don’t even remember what her lips felt like on mine
Most of the time

Most of the time
She ain’t even in my mind
I wouldn’t know her if I saw her
She’s that far behind
Most of the time
I can’t even be sure
If she was ever with me
Or if I was with her

Most of the time
I’m halfway content
Most of the time
I know exactly where it went
I don’t cheat on myself, I don’t run and hide
Hide from the feelings that are buried inside
I don’t compromise and I don’t pretend
I don’t even care if I ever see her again
Most of the time

imagine bitty skyping with Alicia and Bob on a regular basis…and by regular basis I mean every single day because the Zimmermanns love Bitty so much. I want Bitty to be in the Providence apartment and they’re making out and suddenly Bitty pushes Jack off like, “Wait, I just remembered I have to do something first hold on sweetheart” and he literally slides off, pulls his laptop over, and calls Bob to tell him that he passed his French quiz.

(Bob is ecstatic: “ALICIA GUESS WHO PASSED THEIR FRENCH QUIZ, I told you I was helping–oh, hello son!! I heard Eric made pot roast today, you’re lucky–oh right, your mom wants the recipe–”

And then Alicia comes over and she and Bitty talk for forty five minutes, with Bob popping in and out with commentary. Jack passes out on the couch after the first thirty minutes.)

The priest wore black on the seventh day
and sat stone-faced
while the building burned

I waited for you on the running boards,
near the cypress trees,
while the springtime turned
Slowly into Autumn

—  Bob Dylan