Bobbo, Bobbo, Bobbo. What might be a 30 something that looks like a 50 something is really just a lonely 7 year old.
No matter what, he'll always stuck in the late 80s. Maybe even a single day. It could've been a nice Saturday in the summer. Beautiful day. Not a cloud in the sky. Perfect temperature. Bob's up in his room, looking out a window as kids play outside, knowing he isn't invited out. And, he knows he can't get anyone to come in and play NES with.
He tries his best to write off the others as beneath him and condemns whatever they like. All the while and, to this day, he realizes he's just angry for a lack of acceptance. It's why he belly flopped onto the SocJus bandwagon. They seemed to be accepting, when they're the utter epitome of intolerant. Normal folks would just write this off as a learning experience, but Bobby just doubles down.
Bob, you'd better believe that the moment you commit your first social faux pas amongst them, you'll be cut off at the knees.
As retarded as he is, as much as a shitheel as he acts, I still feel pity for him.