Comment of the Week

I eat again at the so-called Soul Food place, and yet again I fail to consume a soul. Am I misinterpreting the signs, or is this place lying to me? The owner pries into my writing. I tell him only truth, and he seems troubled. Perhaps his soul is troubled. I could calm it. I could devour it. His partner is nowhere to be seen. The restaurant is empty. Today I will eat soul food.

Voshkod

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Gil Thorp, 3/29/05

I know there’s such a thing as sharing too much, even in the world of blogs, but I have to tell you all that if Ludacris actually makes an appearance in Gil Thorp, it is very likely that I will crap myself. If nothing else, it’s good to see Coach Thorp, who’s normally something of an insufferable know-it-all, get thrown by the crazy street lingo that his inner-city athletes are using. I look forward to coming strips in which the kids try to explain that in certain semantic contexts, “bad” can actually mean “good.” By the end of the week, Gil will be calling plays in that crazy Snoop Dogg “izzle” language.

Normally the art in this strip is about as subtle as all the male characters’ haircuts, but I have to admit that I like the way newly svelte Brent’s hoodie sags out at the gut in panel 1 — see, he’s lost weight so fast that he hasn’t even had time to shop for a new wardrobe yet! On the other hand, the hood itself isn’t so expertly rendered; panel two looks like it was aiming for 8 Mile, but hit Ren Fair instead.

By the way, you read it here first: this storyline is going to be a Gil Thorp stab at ripped-from-the-headlines topicality. Brent lost all that weight not because he hired a personal trainer, but because he stopped taking steroids. Possibly after seeing a public service announcement recorded by Ludacris.

(And yes, I know, Pimp My Ride is Xzibit. C’mon, how often do I get to use the word “pimp” as a verb?)

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OK, I was completely unprepared for the overwhelming quantity and quality of haiku(s) that you guys posted. You guys all rock, and anyone who hasn’t read them all should do so right now. Here are my arbitrary top picks:

Actual Japanese category:

新聞や
笑に横たふ
ガフィールド

–Anonymous
Who knows what it means? I’m just impressed that someone actually wrote it. According to Altavista’s Babelfish, it translates to: “Side it is in the newspaper and laughing ふ ガフィールド”. Well alrighty then!

Using actual comics dialog category:

Pushed out by the tide.
Oh no, Sharks. That’s all I need!
I’ll try to stay calm.

–Jeff R.

Sexual playtoy!
Ooh-och-ookie! Hoo hoo hoo!
Baby had NO shame!

–Incident

Subtle use of catchphrase category:

Grampa on the couch
dreaming of harem women
I guess he’s been there

–fuzzmaster

Shameless merchandising category:

Hats of Fencepost Frank
Are for sale at Cafepress
But no one buys them

–Dub Not Dubya

Doing that whole “haikus and seasons” thing category:

Haikus need seasons
but time never passes at
Apartment 3-G

–Adouble

Spring Moon, Anna pukes
Mary plots a fresh meddle
And dreams of new angst

–zot

Seeing what’s unseen category:

Meddlesome Mary
dispensing advice to all
Just needs to get laid.

–RememberByronFrost

Peppermint Patty
Sir, may I have another?
Marcie seeks the sweet

–fuzzmaster

Margo and LuAnn
Seemingly main characters
But Tommie’s in charge

–cuteLucca

Snide but funy category:

Sally Forth is lame
While Medium Large is great
But which brings in cash?

–Sue

Poignant as the source material category:

Unseen red-haired girl
His heart’s imagination
Mailbox is empty

–fuzzmaster

All search term category:

tijauna bible
baby moses bath cartoon
naked miss buxley

–dalton

Ick category:

My bed is comfy
It is warm and soft and it
calls me ‘hunny-pot’

–cuteLucca

And the last word:

Die, Judge Parker, die
Die, die, die, die, die, die, die
You, too, Rex Morgan

–fuzzmaster

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Methinks that something is not adding up here in the long and winding saga of Anna and her reproductive organs. Let’s review the facts as we know them:

  • Anna was convinced of her own infertility.
  • Anna is now pregnant and was until today completely unaware that men could be infertile, which means that she never consulted any reasonably competent medical authority about her delicate condition.

Thus, it seems Anna drew her conclusions about her own inability to bring forth progeny the old-fashioned way: by knowing the sweet physical touch of love without either using birth control or giving birth.

But this seems to conflict with another known fact:

  • Anna’s first husband “wasn’t interested” in starting a family.

So, we can come up with speculations about the sordid, barren lie that was Anna’s first marriage:

  • Anna was not taking birth control and lying about it in an attempt to fill her aching loneliness with a little squaller who would provide her existence with some semblance of meaning.
  • Anna’s husband knew about his own manly inadequacies but kept them to himself, so as to keep screeching infants out of his house, mask his own failures, and send his trusting wife into a shame spiral from which she has yet to escape.

It’s also possible that Anna has a pre-first-marriage past that included lots of accidental or on-purpose non-maritally-sanctioned non-birth-controlled sex. It’s also possible that she’s just dumber than a sack of hammers, seeing as she apparently needs a doctor’s help to pee on a stick. I have to admit that I like her groovy polka-dotted shirt, though.