Dear Joyce

[almaty 19]

damn, he would turn a macho man ..ghey

[Chica Yeyé 41]

damn, he would turn a macho man ..ghey

please "expand" brother....

[Empress of Groovy 373]

Joyce,

Is this your husband?

Rowr, Bob Ross, rest his sweet groovy soul!

Not my husband, but we did know each other (in the Biblical sense) for two glorious weeks in 1981. Goodness, I can't believe I'm divulging this! We met at a party in Yonkers. I was stirring my contribution to a potluck, guacamole in an identically colored Tupperware bowl, when I felt my helmet beginning to buzz. Really! No joke! I turned around, and in front of me was the most beautifully kept male helmet (behave, now!) I'd ever seen! Our eyes locked on the other's helmet, and it was as if some otherworldly force pushed us toward each other. I barely felt the shag carpeting under my lace-up sandals as I moved toward this handsome party guest!

A passionate love affair began that very evening. I remember that Bob's bedspread, carpeting, curtains, rugs, and pillows were all a stunning shade of burnt orange. During our two weeks together, he painted no fewer than five portraits of me--mostly from the forehead up--along with a watercolor that's just a little risque! (tee hee! I'll see if I can find it!)

Unfortunately, we learned that we were just a little too much alike. Two perfect helmets aren't necessarily complementary. We began to think of our helmets as constituting a single entity, which eventually became bigger than either of us. Thus, we knew it was time to go our separate ways. The movie Clash of the Titans had just come out, and my friend and confidante Barb "Where's My Jell-O Spoon?" Wiffenberger-Smith-Troyanovska said that Bob and I had a clash of the helmets. Barb is very wise.

I'm getting a little choked up thinking about those two weeks. Bob, may your glorious helmet rest in peace for all eternity. And despite what your mean-spirited ex-wife said, you were a fantastic interior decorator.

Love,

Joyce

[GaryC 7]

Joyce,

Is this your husband?

Rowr, Bob Ross, rest his sweet groovy soul!

Not my husband, but we did know each other (in the Biblical sense) for two glorious weeks in 1981. Goodness, I can't believe I'm divulging this! We met at a party in Yonkers. I was stirring my contribution to a potluck, guacamole in an identically colored Tupperware bowl, when I felt my helmet beginning to buzz. Really! No joke! I turned around, and in front of me was the most beautifully kept male helmet (behave, now!) I'd ever seen! Our eyes locked on the other's helmet, and it was as if some otherworldly force pushed us toward each other. I barely felt the shag carpeting under my lace-up sandals as I moved toward this handsome party guest!

A passionate love affair began that very evening. I remember that Bob's bedspread, carpeting, curtains, rugs, and pillows were all a stunning shade of burnt orange. During our two weeks together, he painted no fewer than five portraits of me--mostly from the forehead up--along with a watercolor that's just a little risque! (tee hee! I'll see if I can find it!)

Unfortunately, we learned that we were just a little too much alike. Two perfect helmets aren't necessarily complementary. We began to think of our helmets as constituting a single entity, which eventually became bigger than either of us. Thus, we knew it was time to go our separate ways. The movie Clash of the Titans had just come out, and my friend and confidante Barb "Where's My Jell-O Spoon?" Wiffenberger-Smith-Troyanovska said that Bob and I had a clash of the helmets. Barb is very wise.

I'm getting a little choked up thinking about those two weeks. Bob, may your glorious helmet rest in peace for all eternity. And despite what your mean-spirited ex-wife said, you were a fantastic interior decorator.

Love,

Joyce

Awww... I always loved to watch Bob paint. Although he got to hyper for my tastes. I am glad you were able to make a great memory with him.

[almaty 19]

i heard..well, read on a sh!thouse wall in I-70 near Topeka, Kansas..that he was hung like a Shetland pony, any truth to that sister joyce?

[*julez* 124]

Dear Joyce,

As a former avid watcher of Bob's The Joy of Painting on PBS, I am wondering if any happy little trees played a part during your affair with Bob? I know the happy little trees were a major component of Bob's artwork and life.

Love,

Julez

[Chica Yeyé 41]

Dear Joyce,

A fellow VJer posed this question: "what if you found out he or she is cheating on you?" and of course, the flurry of responses of the VJ crowd trickled in like gin in your tonic. I must say i am puzzled and certainly curious about your position on cheating, menage a trois (ou a quatre), and swinging--- since I hear that was pretty popular during fondue parties, of which we KNOW you have always been a huge supporter. Do you think our little sensitivities are teh svck and cheating does not exist? What are your wise thoughts?

Sincerely, Mrs. Cheatonmeandiwillcutyourballsoff

[Empress of Groovy 373]

i heard..well, read on a sh!thouse wall in I-70 near Topeka, Kansas..that he was hung like a Shetland pony, any truth to that sister joyce?

Goodness! I tend to be discreet about such things, but since you asked, let me just say that sometimes what you read on the sh!ithouse wall is the truth!

Love,

Joyce

Dear Joyce,

As a former avid watcher of Bob's The Joy of Painting on PBS, I am wondering if any happy little trees played a part during your affair with Bob? I know the happy little trees were a major component of Bob's artwork and life.

Love,

Julez

Dear Julez:

Let me just say that there was nothing little about my magical time with Bob and his helmet! (tee hee!)

Love,

Joyce

[Empress of Groovy 373]

Dear Joyce,

A fellow VJer posed this question: "what if you found out he or she is cheating on you?" and of course, the flurry of responses of the VJ crowd trickled in like gin in your tonic. I must say i am puzzled and certainly curious about your position on cheating, menage a trois (ou a quatre), and swinging--- since I hear that was pretty popular during fondue parties, of which we KNOW you have always been a huge supporter. Do you think our little sensitivities are teh svck and cheating does not exist? What are your wise thoughts?

Sincerely, Mrs. Cheatonmeandiwillcutyourballsoff

Goodness!

Many questions! Let me shake the clouds out of my helmet and get thinking!

I attended a charity brunch earlier today. It was a benefit for a worthy organization that refurbishes Weight Watchers plastic recipe boxes and cards and distributes them to needy recipients in the community. While there, I treated myself to six mimosas and an omelette. I never have a G&T before 4! (two hours to go!!!!!)

Anyhoo, to answer your questions:

(1) Cheating just isn't very nice. I remember one time when I entered a Cool Whip cake decorating contest. I was the clear winner, but a young thing named Betty, whose creation was just Cool Whip with some sliced strawberries arranged in a heart shape, walked away with the trophy! And you know why? Because the judge was her neighbor! I've never forgotten that.

(2) Re: menage a trois (ou a quatre). That sounds tres chic! Is that a new Avon lip color? Count me in!!!!!

(3) Swinging: Excellent exercise, as I believe I mentioned in a previous post. An imporant component of my daily exercise regimen involves walking at an athletic pace around my neighborhood, swinging my arms very enthusiastically and jumping up in the air every fifth step. Sometimes passing motorists think I'm fighting off an imaginary swarm of gnats! Goodness! I'm really just getting the blood flowing! But I appreciate their concern!!

Love,

Joyce

[Chica Yeyé 41]

Dear Joyce,

I am posting this question for a friend. It is NOT ME who I am talking about, mmm'kay?

The thing is, this friend has read all the Twilight series books and errr... well... she seems to be having a little bit of trouble letting go of the main character. My friend is, well, obsessed. She says "well, he is a vampire, so he is not real, and he is really 90 years old, NOT 17" while she giggles like a little teenager and cracks her knuckles.

I fear for the stability of her marriage to one certain USC of German descent (not MY husband of course, since this is not me we are talking about -- but I already said that right? This is NOT ME). She has all these really naughty thoughts about the vampire boy, and it troubles me... I mean, her.

What should I do... I mean, what should I tell my friend she should do???

Thanks, Mrs It's Not Me

[almaty 19]

wow, i had a client like that ..her name was len from seattle..small world, i giuess sister joyce.

[MissStacey 1]

wow, i had a client like that ..her name was len from seattle..small world, i giuess sister joyce.

[Chica Yeyé 41]

wow, i had a client like that ..her name was len from seattle..small world, i giuess sister joyce.

#######>!?!?!? It was not me --- and you'd better have malpractice insurance, "dr" dean....

Edited April 24, 2009 by *Len*

[EstebanTrabajos 7]

psychooooo

Cou couuuu

17 years old, hmmmm

reminds me of...

Edited April 24, 2009 by TävôLuDô

[Chica Yeyé 41]

who the ** is that?