When I went to sleep the other night, I had no intention of dreaming about Bob Ross. I haven't given Bob Ross a thought in who knows how long. But there he was in subconscious technicolor braving treacherous oceans and exhibiting the mastery of a tattoo machine I've never seen – nor will ever see. He was the living embodiment of Chuck Norris and The Most Interesting Man In The World.
Usually my dreams don't provide comic fodder. Most of the time I'm in some kind of action-adventure-type peril. Strangely, there's usually fighting which involves me bludgeoning someone with my fists. I'm not a violent guy, so maybe that's my outlet. Maybe if I stop having violent dreams a good argument on the podcast about The Purge would end in a domestic assault. Neither Soss or I should want that since we're both pussies.
So... here's to Bob Ross, one of the most colorful public television personalities we're likely to ever see. May he forever paint those happy little clouds in the sky.
-Gint
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