Another grandfatherly humanitarian philanthropist bites the dust.
My money is on the leopard skin underpants team.
Well, not to stay. You gotta understand he’s a rambling gambling man trying to make a living anyway he can.
And then Tarzan leapt on the lions back and plunged the knife of his long dead father into the savage heart once, twice, thrice.
I remember My Sweet Babboo from somewhere.
I will say it’s light years better than comic books, book signings, the Valentine theater or Dinkle anything.
He’s missing due to an oversight. They moved his cardboard cutout to the right just outside that glass door in panel two. He was supposed to be next in line. He listens to stuff and smirks.
Wimoweh wimoweh, the lion killer sleeps tonight.
I’m not going to pretend I know what this means.
Good clean entertainment. You just don’t see this anymore.
Another grandfatherly humanitarian philanthropist bites the dust.