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 about 10 years ago
Waiting for the Collector’s Edition of this comic where the blood ends up everywhere.