Bob Brown:
CLASS OF 1966

The Miller School of AlbemarleClass of 1966
Charlottesville, VA
Lane High SchoolClass of 1970
Charlottesville, VA
Rock Hill AcademyClass of 1970
Charlottesville, VA
Charlottesville High SchoolClass of 1970
Charlottesville, VA
University of RichmondClass of 1970
Richmond, VA
Bob's Story
Rather boring, run of the mill, actually,...the details of my life are quite inconsequential. Very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Some times he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy, the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical, summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds, pretty standard really. At the age of 12 I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn s crotum, it's breathtaking, I suggest you try it.
One of my greatest disappointments is that I never became a song and dance man. I could have been a quadruple threat, kind of like a despotic Ken Barry. Dancer, singer, actor, and I would possess nuclear weapons, the latter being the most threatening of the four. I once sat on a bus and tried to will myself a menstrual cycle. All I ended up with was a sense of failure and a mild neuralgia in my incisor teeth and perhaps a grudging respect for the weaker sex. I love toe cleavage. Fo...Expand for more
r the most part I distrust dogs. I slept in a horse once. It was quite roomy.
Oh yes, I also made a Marzipan voodoo effigy of The Fonze while I was in coma after smoking some Peruvian prayer hash, but who at the end of the day can honestly say they haven't done that?
I met the Dali Lama, once, when serving my country. Really. I was overseas in the Navy when I met him. I was unhappy with my assignment so I jump ship in Hong Kong and make my way over to Tibet, and I get on as a looper at a course over in the Himalayas. A looper, you know, a caddy, a looper, a jock. So, I tell them I'm a pro jock, and who do you think they give me? The Dalai Lama, himself. Twelfth son of the Lama. The flowing robes, the grace, bald... striking. So, I'm on the first tee with him. I give him the driver. He hauls off and whacks one---big hitter, the Lama---long, into a ten-thousand foot crevasse, right at the base of this glacier. Do you know what the Lama says? Gunga galunga... gunga, gunga-galunga. So we finish the eighteenth and he's gonna stiff me. And I say, "Hey, Lama, hey, how about a little something, you know, for the effort, you know." And he says, "Oh, uh, there won't be any money, but when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consiousness." So I got that goin' for me, which is nice.
Should anyone have the inclination to learn of further details of my life, you can contact me at robtbrown "at" comcast "dot" net (formatting thus to avoid filter).
Register for Free to view all details!
Yearbooks
Register for Free to view all yearbooks!
Reunions
Register for Free to view all events!
Photos




















Register for Free to view all photos!


