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For Better Or For Worse, 7/27/05

(Once again, not gonna piss off Mt. Foob by posting the strip here. No, sir. Read it here.)

So let’s take stock of feminism north of the border, shall we? Remember, a woman can do anything a man can do! Operate heavy machinery or what have you! And if you try to tell ’em otherwise, why, you’re nothing but an boorish jerk with a receding hairline and a misshapen skull and a … a … weird little … thing in the middle of your forehead! Yeah! Jerk!

This only applies, of course, to women who haven’t had kids. Once you’ve had a baby, of course, your job is to stay home and raise ’em. Yup, that’s what’s in your future till they can take care of themselves! What’s that? You say that you’re committed to your career and that your husband is perfectly willing to take over the childcare duties? You think that sounds like an equitable arrangement? Wrong! The gods of narrative will make sure that you come across as an emasculating wench, you … you … francophone!

Meanwhile, let’s see the proof that spider-sense doesn’t make for good financial sense.

Spider-Man, 7/27/05

Yeah, because the last thing I’d want if I had a high-stress job, time-consuming job that paid exactly nothing — like, say, being a superhero — would be for my wife to suddenly become extraordinarily wealthy. I mean, dude, you can climb up walls and what not, and now you’re feeling inadequate because you make less than your woman? I would definitely like to sign up for this sort of marital problem. I’m sure I’ll feel a twinge of discomfort, just before I dive head first into my Scrooge McDuck-style swimming pool of money that I didn’t have to work for.

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For Better Or For Worse, 7/13/05

(Folks, it’s come to my attention that the scheming lawyers over at Mt. Foob are little quick on the trigger when it comes to the cease and desist letters aimed at the Webhosts of those who reproduce the strips without approval. So if you haven’t read the strip yet, click here to open it in a new window.)

Ah, youth! I remember my eighth grade graduation. I think that it involved my grandparents taking me out for ice cream. It certainly did not involve my older sister driving me around while I made out with my girlfriend in the back seat. (Not that this is a “kids today are all roadside” rant. I know for a fact that some of my junior high classmates participated in post-graduation making out. I just wasn’t one of them. I was barely in a position to do post-graduation making out in high school.)

Of course, the guy I feel really sorry for is poor ol’ Duncan. His band goes down in an inferno of clashing tweenage egos, and he doesn’t even have the arms of some 12-year-old gig to fall into for consolation. Instead, he’s just got forty-five minutes of painful, stilted conversation with Elizabeth ahead of him. Maybe he’ll make up some more Canadian jive-talk to describe the depths of the awkwardness. Your life’s in your hands, dude.

Oh, and by the way, you are reading a blog post written by … juror #8! The judge says the case won’t last more than a couple days, though, so I’m not too stressed. I think it would be interesting to blog my jury experiences as they happen, except that that would be totally illegal. Still, I’ll dish what dirt I can, once its over.

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I’ve been plugging the merchandise steadily, but you and I both know that it’s been getting a bit stale. That’s why tonight I’ve taken some of your ideas and some ideas the Future Mrs. C. and I have been percolating on and revamped the Comics Curmudgeon store! You can still buy the Fence Post Frank hat (our latest model) and the “More Zippers, Mule!” shirts (timeless classics), but the mugs and other t-shirts have been replaced, and we have some sexy new items for you!

First, the new shirts. Show your solidarity with Milford’s unjustly accused by sporting a “Free Hutch” shirt.

Next, prepare for the inevitable spit-take with this fine mug, a desperate attempt to sex up America’s lamest burg.

And finally, what better way to show that you’ve “been there” than to sport boxers, a camisole, or (no, really) a thong that showcases your roadside status?

Thank you to the many fine posters who came up with the ideas for these. Alas, nothing is available from Cafepress in that hideous electric blue color.

Now, once you’ve bought this stuff (as I’m sure you will immediately) you are of course going take a picture of yourself wearing and/or using it and send it to me, right? Of course you are. I’m especially interested in some pictures from the ladies here — almost all of our current models are menfolk! I know the Future Mrs. C. is hard to top, but we strive for gender balance. (Please, though, no thong photos, or at least no photos of your thong on your … thong … area.)

What’s that address again? Glad you asked. It’s http://www.cafepress.com/joshreads, of course. Now go forth and purchase!

Oh, and I almost forgot to add that when I was making the underwear, I said, “I need to find a slutty font for this.” There’s a sentence you don’t get to say very often.