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Comic
2374 comics.
Don’t you love camping next to somebody who, for any number of reasons, can’t quite realize that A COUPLE OF MICRONS OF NYLON WON’T STOP A HUMAN VOICE. AT… ALLLLLL. Cub scouts, snorers, first time campers, drunks, people hopelessly distracted by leg cramps… all of ya- SHADDUP! We’re tryin’ to sleep about fourteen inches away from you on the other side of two tent walls thinner than a pair of fancy underwear. And if I gotta pick between your conversation and the amount of sleep I’m getting on the cold, hard ground, I’ll take the sleep, meager as it is.
And so winds down the first day of the Outdoorfest.
I had to throw in a little tip o’ the hat to Charles Schulz. I am, categorize me any way you like, a cartoonist. And I’m old enough to remember that I wanted to learn to read partly so I would know what Charlie Brown was saying. After drawing three sets of ‘And then the rain started’ cartoons, it was time to wrap that up… but I couldn’t get Charlie Brown on his pitcher’s mound out of my head, so I put it on paper, sorta. That usually gets it out of my head, anyhow.
Also, it’s 12-12-12. Anybody care? Has the world ended? No? Well, Australia would have called or something if things were going wrong. It was 12-12-12 there yesterday. Now we gotta wait out 12-21-12 and see if the New-Ager “Raise-Your-Vibrations” crowd gets their monumental Ascendance or Transcendence or whatever the %$#@ they’re expecting. Can you tell if I expect they’re gonna get it?
Oh, and I’d like to point out that I have tried to skate on a wet ramp. The rain WON’T hurt you. The wet ramp, on the other hand, can snap a bone for you.
Pow. There you go.
Friend of mine used to do this. Draw a turtle in the dirt if we needed rain by morning for a kayak trip. Uncanny how we seemed to see it work so often. Of course, we all REALLY, REALLY wanted it to, so we were happy to remember the hits and forget the misses.
