Public Broadcast Generi-Art Choad
- Also Known As: Big Bob, Cocksucking Bob, Old One Eye, Horse Cock, Half Cock, Bobby Bologna, Mr. Pink Sock
- Where Found: Painting "happy" trees on the underside of his mohogany casket lid.
- Threat Level: This mutherfucker is still threatenting to the visual reference painting scheme and will occasionally rise from the dead for some oral sex.
- Occupation: Pushing up daisies in between bouts of dead ass landscape spatterings in cheap wet on wet oil strokes.
- Mating Call: Couldn't be discerned through six feet of cold, hard dirt. Sorry 'bout that.
- Natural Enemy: Original, out-of-the-box ideas, non-military medical transcriptionists, cheeseburgers, Kinkade art "galleries", and flushing more than once.
- Smells Like: I once found a dead gerbil up my ass. Bob pretty much smells like that.
- Is Attracted To: My sweet, sweet dick.
- Always Seen With: Quite a few worms and a bag of fat magic mushrooms.
- If You See this Person: Take aim at the head. He won't die unless you hit him in the head.
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Check please!
About this Choad
What's there to say? I think the body of the Choadfile said it all.
Look, I know that some of you sensitive sweet peas out there are appalled by my scathing report on the dead-as-fuck Bob Ross and quite frankly, I could care less. If Bob were actually alive today I'd throw gas on his afro and set that fucker ablaze. As Bob ran around, screaming and in a full panic, I'd hit him with my truck, throw a bucketload of gasoline on his then-dwindling flames, and then paint happy little trees as I wait to piss on his ashes. It's not that I dislike Bob. I just detest happy little trees.
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