Gasoline Alley, 5/26/08
Can I confide to you that I actually find the concept of a heavily-accented, curly-mustachioed French pitchcat named “Chef Meowrice” pretty funny, if deranged? I’m guessing the name is supposed to be a pun on famous French-accent-haver Maurice Chevalier. However, I am firmly, firmly opposed to “Tabby Wynette,” mostly because she should be be belting out country tunes full of hard-earned sadness and loss, rather than just standing around in some kind of creepy cat S&M get-up and cozying up to some Frenchie for pulverized mouse bits.
In other news, Popeye has come ’round again to Olive Oyl’s suicide, as is its wont.
Apartment 3-G, 5/26/08
Meanwhile, across the world in Tibet, we’ve been given a respite from Alan’s zany drug antics. Eric and Tenzin have been making the long trudge to Lhasa on foot, apparently unaware that you can actually take the train there now. You can tell that they’ve been on a long journey because Eric has grown a neatly trimmed beard, while Tenzin has become a blond-haired Caucasian. Seeing the fabled city in the distance, Eric muses that it would have been better for the place to have been destroyed and all its people killed than to have any contact with modernity.