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Hagar the Horrible, 2/24/12

It’s sad, but true: If you’re living on the windswept edge of a Norwegian fjord somewhere towards the tail end of the Viking age, a one-room hovel with a thatched roof surrounded by grass poking out of the nutrient-poor soil really does represent “do[ing] rather well for yourself.” At least you don’t live in a mud hut that melts every time it rains! At least you’re not a slave! Still, I’m a little put off by the sign, since Hagar is a known illiterate. But I guess it doesn’t really matter, since most everyone else around is illiterate too! Maybe he forced some terrified monk kidnapped from Lindisfarne to write it for him, just for the status of having writing on his property.

Six Chix, 2/24/12

Meanwhile, over in Six Chix, someone’s been murdered by a comically oversized shoe, apparently! I, uh, have no real way of dealing with this. Enjoy your weekend, everybody!