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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....
A club, you say?