For Better Or For Worse, 6/12/07
So, Mt. Foob has gotten sick of my cutting decision to refer to the Milquetoasty-Potential-Love-Interest-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named only as “The Mustache,” eh? They’ve gotten so sick of it that they’ve chosen to remove his mustache, eh? Well, two can play at this game! From now on, he’s … The Vast, Disconcerting, Fleshy Expanse Of Upper Lip! Or TV,D,FEOUL for short. I can go as far down this road as you want, Foobmeisters!
I am in fact 99 percent sure that’s supposed to be Anthony, though he looks weird enough that I can understand the doubts. The tip-off is the freckles, people. I’m assuming his suddenly non-droopy features are a product of FBOFW’s patented “Sexy-Cam” technique.
I just want to say that I love the collection of bizarre, misshapen faces in the second panel. Apparently they saved money on the tent by just getting married at a circus freak show.
(P.S. Remember that bit of Foobery from T Campbell I solicited artists for a couple of weeks ago? The results are here. Sadly, we may be too late after all…)
I don’t pretend to fully understand what makes a fellow attractive, but I always thought of Tony Blair less as “cute” and more as “pasty and somewhat weasel-faced.” (He’s gotten better looking with age, I’ll admit.) Of course, Momma has long been slightly obsessed with the attractiveness of prime ministers, so maybe this is all of a part. Maybe, like her brother Francis, Mary Lou just has a thing for the head of a cabinet government elected by a parliament. She just can’t get worked up about the separation of powers we have going on the United States, and wants Tony Blair and the sexy, sexy Westminster system he represents to come over across the pond.
I realize I’m just pussyfooting around the larger issue here, which is that this cartoon makes no sense. But it makes so very much no sense that I’m somewhat in awe of even approaching the lack of sense that it makes.
Oh, come on, Pluggers! See, there’s supposed to be a little wordplay going on here to justify your existence; otherwise, there’s nothing but passive-aggressive anti-elitism and the least sexy furries known to man. Here, I’ll help you out. “Pluggers don’t use twist ties … they just give the bag a good …” Did you guess what the last word should have been? Something that appeared earlier in the sentence? Hmmmm?
Overheard in the year 2015: “Boy, Archie turned into Tom of Finland-style beefcake so gradually, we all hardly even noticed it. And they all used to be so wholesome…”