A fun dynamic on this blog is that if I ever post anything to the effect of “Wow, this really makes no sense whatsoever, who on earth would do this/talk like this,” I will inevitably get at least one comment to the effect of, “Huh, Josh, actually if you weren’t a stupid American/coastal elitist/weirdo shut-in/feckless youth/cranky old man you would know that this is in fact very normal behavior, can’t believe you’re publicly embarrassing yourself like this.” But you know what, I don’t care, I don’t believe that anyone has reacted to the information that someone has bought a Harley-Davidson and the first thing they ask is what size Harley was purchased. I don’t believe it! There are many different model families of Harley and, it’s true, they do vary significantly by size, but I still don’t think that’s how you’d approach the question of finding out what kind of Harley your aged mother is has bought with her bingo winnings. Sorry! Roast me for saying this if you will! I gotta speak my truth!
Gil Thorp, 11/3/23
Say what you will about the comics as a medium, but if a TV show wanted to have a couple of of-the-moment superstars as guests, there would be tortuous negotiations and a lot of money changing hands, whereas a comic strip can just draw ’em and have them say whatever crazy shit you want. And since they’re public figures, they can’t even sue! Probably. “Hey, wasn’t this strip about vampires or something just a couple days ago,” you’re no doubt asking, and the answer is: no, wrong, that was a dream sequence, as opposed to today’s strip, where all the football players have hearts floating over their heads, which is definitely happening in real life.