New York—Sitting at the table in the Chelsea Hotel on 223 West 23rd Street, where Lou Reed made out with David Bowie in 1973, the Rock-n-Roll Board of Governors voted to strip Robert James Ritchie, also known as “Kid Rock” of his stage name and henceforth refer to him as “Just Bob.”
Over vodka martinis and two-eight-balls the board, which normally is a ceremonial body, deliberated for less than five-minutes before unanimously voting to strip “Just Bob” of his title. Prior to going out and searching for a third eight-ball the Governors issued a terse one line statement: “Go Fuck Yourself Bob, You Intolerant Knob.”
In recent years most of the rock-n-roll world just shrugged or maybe called “Just Bob,” an asshole for his vocal support of Donald Trump and his criticism of social programs that help the poor and vulnerable. As the son of a man who owned multiple car dealerships it should be noted that Kid Privilege, “Just Bob,” grew up in a six-thousand square foot house and spent excruciating days on his family’s six-acre compound picking apples and riding horses.
Being born a rich rock-n-roll asshole, however, isn’t what prompted the Governors to action. It was “Just Bob,” in a backwards turned MAGA hat going ape-shit like a petulant two-year old with an AR15 on twelve-packs of Bud Light because parent company Anheuser-Busch celebrated Trans Actor/Activist Dylan Mulvaney’s year long Tick Tock series “Days of Girlhood,” which documented her transition, with a likeness on a beer can.
Apparently, “Just Bob,” is the arbiter of the mind, body and souls of all humans—gaining that divine knowledge from growing up in the suburbs picking apples and riding horses. But as the Board of Governors pointed out in another statement after getting the third eight-ball: “Rock-n-Roll was born of the desolation of disaffected youths. Through the years it has evolved to be a safe space where ALL PEOPLE could be themselves without fear or retribution from their parents, the government or rich assholes from the suburbs of Detroit. In strongest terms we again say: “Go Fuck Yourself Bob, You Intolerant Knob.”
After issuing this second statement several board members vomited in the Chelsea bar just like Iggy Pop in ‘69.
