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Mary Worth, 5/19/05

Mark Trail, 5/19/05

It’s like they’re trying to taunt me. I mean, these two strips routinely move at the speed of a glacier; but somehow, in what seems like it should be a contradiction of all known laws of time and space, in the past few weeks or so they’ve become even slower. Seemingly every twist in this Mark Trail plot that might result in some drama gets nipped in the bud; meanwhile, Mary and Jeff are out at sea, cut off from all external stimuli, with the rest of the world fading out into the background: it’s like Waiting for Godot, except instead of the two of them engaging in absurdist philosophical banter, Mary is just reeling off platitude after platitude while Jeff looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, possible with a gun at his temple.

So, because the comics are being recalcitrant today, I offer a few funny sentences that I’ve thought up here and there and have been trying to figure out how to wedge into a blog post. I hope you enjoy them in this noncontextualized form.

  • It’s not like it’s the most the subtle movie in the world, you know? I mean, I was only seven, but still, I was thinking, “Mom, the guy dressed in black leather and the mask that looks like a skull who keeps strangling people with his mind? Not a good guy.”
  • It’s the sort of place that looks like it would sell CDs with names like This Is How We Do It, Volume 6: Best of Flemish 160 BPM DJs, 1997-1999.
  • So we’ve seen Margo with her hair up, and with her hair down, but you notice we never see her putting it up? That’s because it would take about an hour, which would translate to about seven dozen strips, not counting hairpins.

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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.

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Shoe, 5/18/05

More life lessons from the comics, this time from Shoe. Dragged in front of a judge for a serious crime like stalking? Just placate him with some vaudeville-era jokes — he’ll be too busy enjoying the knee-slapping hilarity to throw the book at you! Here’s a handy chart that will help you prepare your defense.

When the judge says… You say…
“Young man, the police say you’ve robbed at least seven banks in this city alone!” “Well sure, your honor — that’s where the money is!”
“After your last drunk-driving conviction, you were ordered to seek treatment. But when the police pulled you over tonight, your breathalyzer  results was double the legal limit.” “I guess it’s like the old saying — I’d rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy!”
“Stop disrupting these proceedings! Order in the court!” “Order in the court, eh? I’d like a large cheese pizza, please — and to go!”
“Blinding your own parents with a red-hot poker — it’s one of the most heinous crimes I’ve ever seen in my long years as a judge. What do you have to say for yourself?” “Hey, they said they didn’t want to see me coming around anymore…”

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