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2055

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u couldn’t see how crappy it was!</p><p id="c2f6">And WTF is a phthalo, anyway?</p><p id="117a">I wanted to be like you, Bob. I wanted my pine trees to have friends and my clouds to be happy. I wanted to paint a barn with snow on its roof in the middle of winter. With a happy little mailbox and path to the door.</p><p id="5799">But you know what, Bob?</p><p id="0ac4">The rivers and streams aren’t my friends. The trees and waterfalls aren’t happy. They’re pissed off! They look like a tornado came through and ripped everything all to hell. Twice!</p><p id="c4b1">It’s not a wonderful day when I try to paint a winter scene okay, Bob? It’s not a wonderful day when my clouds look like sht.</p><p id="0ab9">I made mistakes all the time! Not happy accidents. My happy accidents occur when I’m on the toilet, not when I’m painting. Everything was a freaking mistake!</p><p id="122d">It’s not easy to make all the little rocks and highlight the snow on the mountains. It’s not easy to make those reflections like you do, Bob.</p><figure id="a51b"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*BOZZICPE_JOxmT4KspZy-g.jpeg"><figcaption>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/zvf7cZ0PC20?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Dikaseva</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/search/photos/dead-tree?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure><p id="6825">Do you know what kind of tree lives in my world? An ugly fcking tree! A dead fcking tree!</p><p id="11e4">Painting should make me happy, huh?</p><p id="fce6">Bob, the only thing that made me happy was when I threw the happy little trees into the garbage. I became happy when I finally threw those tubes of yellow ochre and burnt umber in the trash. And don’t even get me started on that fcking campfire painting.</p><p id="166a">I let my brushes go anywhere they wanted to go, okay? I didn’t overdo it. I promise!</p><p id="73ab">So you can take that brush and shove it u

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p your ass, Bob!</p><p id="4312">Tap, tap, tap your face!</p><p id="2498">I’d like to wash the brush and beat the devil out of it on your head. Now that would be fun!</p><figure id="db88"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*x0wqzTTmt17sbiwhO7dSPg.jpeg"><figcaption>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/_Yc7OtfFn-0?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">RhondaK Native Florida Folk Artist</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/search/photos/paint-brush?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure><p id="0708">Trying to paint like you makes me want to pull out all of my hair.</p><p id="c1f1">Of course, I can’t do that either because I don’t have a big crop of hair like you that makes me 6 inches taller than what I really am. I don’t have the soft, fuzzy, chia pet growing mane of hair like you did, Bob!</p><p id="e3f9">So fck you, fck your paintings, fck your hair, fck your happy little trees and everything else that lives in your world!</p><p id="c4e2">F*CK!!!!</p><p id="4f75">Thanks for reading!</p><p id="2d8d">I actually love Bob Ross, rest his happy little soul. I just love to write a satirical/humor piece every once in a while. And who better to write one about than Bob Ross? I mean, how can you dislike that guy?</p><p id="fc97">If you liked this post, you may also like this one:</p><div id="47f2" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/want-to-be-a-quadrillionaire-87adcfd7e25f"> <div> <div> <h2>Want To Be A Quadrillionaire?</h2> <div><h3>According To A Quadrillionaire (Me). Quadrillionaires Unite!!!!</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*v-4oVjqHuPwJhb3B)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

Go F*ck Yourself, Bob Ross

With Your Happy Little Trees

Bob Ross can kiss my ass.

Why?

Because I can’t f*cking paint like him, okay?

I bought your Joy Of Painting kit when I was a kid, Bob. And I tried and tried to paint like you and make your happy mountains and bushes. You made it look so freaking easy. I even tried when I was an adult and I still couldn’t do it.

My paintings would always turn out to look like a big glob of colored crap. There were no happy little trees. There was no lazy river. And there sure as hell wasn’t any joy in my painting.

Everything is not fantastic okay, Bob? And I’m not ready to have some fun either.

Because I can’t f*cking paint like you!

It didn’t matter what colors I used, Bob. I used phthalo green, Van Dyke brown and Prussian blue. I had alizarin crimson, sap green, and cad yellow. I even had midnight black! It didn’t help okay, Bob?

I will tell you this though — midnight was the perfect time to look at my painting because then you couldn’t see how crappy it was!

And WTF is a phthalo, anyway?

I wanted to be like you, Bob. I wanted my pine trees to have friends and my clouds to be happy. I wanted to paint a barn with snow on its roof in the middle of winter. With a happy little mailbox and path to the door.

But you know what, Bob?

The rivers and streams aren’t my friends. The trees and waterfalls aren’t happy. They’re pissed off! They look like a tornado came through and ripped everything all to hell. Twice!

It’s not a wonderful day when I try to paint a winter scene okay, Bob? It’s not a wonderful day when my clouds look like sh*t.

I made mistakes all the time! Not happy accidents. My happy accidents occur when I’m on the toilet, not when I’m painting. Everything was a freaking mistake!

It’s not easy to make all the little rocks and highlight the snow on the mountains. It’s not easy to make those reflections like you do, Bob.

Do you know what kind of tree lives in my world? An ugly f*cking tree! A dead f*cking tree!

Painting should make me happy, huh?

Bob, the only thing that made me happy was when I threw the happy little trees into the garbage. I became happy when I finally threw those tubes of yellow ochre and burnt umber in the trash. And don’t even get me started on that f*cking campfire painting.

I let my brushes go anywhere they wanted to go, okay? I didn’t overdo it. I promise!

So you can take that brush and shove it up your ass, Bob!

Tap, tap, tap your face!

I’d like to wash the brush and beat the devil out of it on your head. Now that would be fun!

Photo by RhondaK Native Florida Folk Artist on Unsplash

Trying to paint like you makes me want to pull out all of my hair.

Of course, I can’t do that either because I don’t have a big crop of hair like you that makes me 6 inches taller than what I really am. I don’t have the soft, fuzzy, chia pet growing mane of hair like you did, Bob!

So f*ck you, f*ck your paintings, f*ck your hair, f*ck your happy little trees and everything else that lives in your world!

F*CK!!!!

Thanks for reading!

I actually love Bob Ross, rest his happy little soul. I just love to write a satirical/humor piece every once in a while. And who better to write one about than Bob Ross? I mean, how can you dislike that guy?

If you liked this post, you may also like this one:

Want To Be A Quadrillionaire?

According To A Quadrillionaire (Me). Quadrillionaires Unite!!!!

medium.com