A diktat for the fat cat
OK, Garfield, I thought you and I had a deal. An unspoken agreement. But now that you’ve gone and broken it, I think I need to spell out the terms.
Here’s how it works:
- I continue to read you, despite the fact that you’ve been built around the same half-dozen or so lame jokes for as long as I can remember and are a soulless corporate shell of a comic designed to sell adorable plush dolls and vaguely sarcastic greeting cards.
- And in return, all I ask is that you don’t make me look up any words in the God-damned dictionary.
Don’t let this happen again.
Mark Trail, 11/10/07
Ah, Johnny, you know that there’s no problem that can’t be solved in the high-stakes world of boutique, full-service wilderness tourism that can’t be solved with a double-barreled shotgun. As Bull Malone lies gut-shot and squirming in front of their tent, it’s going to dawn on those big-city businessmen that they’ve gotten way more than they bargained for. Somebody’s going to be getting a terrible review on TripAdvisor.com, I tell you what.
Beetle Bailey, 11/10/07
Today in Beetle Bailey: When second-generation artists rediscover characters created when the original artists read the Cliff Notes to Catch-22!