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Shoe, 11/2/05

Hey, Shoe, FYI, Madame Butterfly was a character in a Puccini opera. She’s a fifteen-year-old Japanese girl who marries an American naval officer, is abandoned by him, and then kills herself due to shame. Her potential fortune-telling abilities are unexplored, though you’d think that she would have managed to avoid her unfortunate betrothal if she really did have the Second Sight.

Personally, I think Madame Zoo Doo is just trying to distract our attention from her name and its no doubt shameful origin, which possibly involves gibbon scat.

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Mark Trail, 11/1/05

You may have noticed that Mark Trail dropped off my radar in late August. That’s because, despite a set-up that promised grim power struggles, attempted murder, and mouth-foaming insanity, nothing has happened of any interest for weeks and week and oh god oh god no no no no. Boyd was going to have rabies … except then he didn’t … but then he did … but then he got back to a hospital in time. Scott and Lynn were going to try to murder him … but then they didn’t, except for this one really half-assed attempt on Lynn’s part. After many sitcom-level almost-revelations, at least we actually found out that Scott was destined to guide BoydCo into the glorious future of … whatever … it is … that … it does. And today we learn that Lynn’s mighty slap on Scott’s face a few days ago precipitated the end of their scheming, murderous union. Hopefully a future strip will show Scott stepping over Lynn in the gutter as he strides with his new, non-sociopathic wife into a fancy country club.

There’s only one thing standing in the way of that glorious vision: Scott’s swung so far from bad to good that he’s going to spill the beans on his previous designs. This, it seems to me, is a Bad Idea. There’s two ways that this could go: either the two gentlemen could have a hearty, manly laugh about that whole attempted-murder thing, which will just reinforce Mark Trail’s camp value at the expense of any other value of any kind; or the confession could trigger Boyd’s latent rabies, and he’s just gonna start biting the hell out of stuff. Either way, it’s all good with me.

Speaking of quick and laughable resolutions:

Spider-Man, 11/1/05

Is every potentially hazardous encounter between Spidey and this dastardly doctor going to be resolved by dumb luck? Has Peter Parker been endowed with the relative deus ex machina-inducing ability of a spider? Is Spider-Man going to come perilously close to exposing himself in every strip from now on? Keep tuning in to find out!

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If you’ve forgotten — and if my anemic sales are any indication, it appears that you have — there are wacky, Brick House-inspired workout clothes available from my CafePress store. Today I received a couple of photos of isometricians in action. First up is faithful reader Mooselet, who will be baffling people Down Under with her new tank top:

I also got this pic from my friend Matt, who is chipping in a little bit of his pathetic grad student salary to support my blogging efforts. Now, I happen to know that Matt is a wiry, spindly fellow — he’s not Brick House scrawny, but, at my wedding when I last saw him, he sure wasn’t as beefy as he appears in this pic. Either this sleeveless T is designed to accentuate the physique, or those isometrics really work!

Both have joined the cavalcade of models in my sidebar ads. Click on their pics at any time to acquire these fine garments or any other classic bit of Comics Curmudgeon gear — the “More Zippers, Mule!” shirt that started the craze, the “Free Hutch” shirt that cried out for justice, or the “Roadside” thong that no one’s had the guts to have their picture taken in yet. Spend your money there today! I command it!