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Luann by Greg Evans and Karen Evans for May 09, 1988
May 08, 1988
May 10, 1988
Transcript:
A poem by Luann Degroot I picked up all his dirty clothes. His car I polished bright. I made his bed and did his chores to make his day just right. But when I checked the eight of May I thought that I would die! There's no such things as "brother's day" That lazy creep has lied! Brad: ...and a big club sandwich would sure hit the spot....
DTJB over 10 years ago
Waiting for the Collector’s Edition of this comic where the blood ends up everywhere.
KageKat 11 days ago
A club, you say?