No Friday strip this week?
I remember she was hawt when she wore the femme Klingon outfit.
It was after Soul Train ended, but before the government in effect banned Saturday morning cartoons. Once the cartoons were over at noon, we switched to PBS and watched Bob work his magic.
“Yellow Ocher for a mountain snow picture? No way! You’ve lost it this time, Ross”
30 minutes later: “Bob Ross, you SOB.”
My brother’s Great Dane, named Duke (naturally) used to snack down honeybees, bumblebees and wasps like they were red hot candies. He’d run over and chomp one down, then run around the yard like a freak for a minute, then lay down and wait until he heard the next one. My Shar Pei, Sissy, gave them a wide berth after one experience with a yellow jacket and her nose.
Dang, I miss her. She’s been gone since the last day of summer, 2007.
A man whore.
Bob Ross used to put me to sleep like Z-quil. When I was home on Saturdays, I’d get up with the kids and we’d watch Saturday morning cartoons together. His show took the Soul Train slot at noon. I’d sit in my big recliner and the girls would sit on either side of me. About halfway into his show, we’d all three be asleep again.
Not if you’ve ever been to (then) West Germany. Pomme Frites mit mayonaise was a standard in Frankfurt/Hanau in the 70s and 80s.
Just like the VA.