Fourth Wall Breaks are cool.
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Comic
2374 comics.
This is one of those fun strips where I had something very similar decided for the first panel, different for the second panel, wildly divergent for the third panel, and the fourth panel ceased to exist at some point in the editing of the script.
Probably more of that goes on than you think.
Comeuppance. I should look that word up. I bet it’s origin is fascinating.
Bicycle lanes. Do they double well as unicycle lanes and skateboard lanes? Well, around here, they CAN, but sadly, it really depends more on the jackass quotients of bicyclers and car drivers.
I went to see Solo this evening.
I like Star Wars. I was 11 when the first one came out, which was the perfect age for that movie. I even saw the Star Wars TV Christmas special- The one that a lot of people don’t quite believe was ever made now.
Unlike, apparently, some people that get themselves in the news, I’m not angered by much in movies. I don’t insist that all movies are made for me to like, and I’m probably less discriminating that many film aficionados. I mean, I don’t even hate Waterworld, and that one didn’t seem to suit much of anybody.
Even so, though. If they make a JarJar Binks movie, I don’t think I’ll bother to go.
It’s Troy Thursday again, folks!
You have to assume that these little competitions never really come out in Hubris’ favor.
One wonders what he’s up to.
If you grew up reading MAD magazine, you have a sense of Nick Meglin, who edited MAD for a long time.
He died a couple of days ago, a week after I saw him last. He wasn’t the kind of guy who would graciously accept glowing words of praise. He was clever and sarcastic and sharp, and I’m dearly, deeply, genuinely grateful to have known him for the last twelve or so years, though I can’t imagine saying that to his face or what his hilarious, dismissive reply would have been.
The best way I’ve thought to express it is that, in the moments when we had his attention, he made us each feel we were kings, that we had such a fine court jester to mock us so perfectly.
And the world is diminished without him.
The tricky thing about alcohol- and I’m not the first to say this by any stretch of the imagination- is that it takes away your ability to make considered decisions about time.
I think it was Dennis Miller in one of his Rants books who described having another drink and another, all the while whittling away the hours you intend to sleep before you go to work the next morning. Something along the lines of “Well, I meant to go home an hour ago and get some sleep, and if I leave now, then I could still get five hours before I have to get up… but if I stay another two hours, and skip my shower… Bartender, another round!”
Knowing you have a day and a half to mop up your daily life before a large and time-consuming job, what would YOU do?
Age-ism. (I don’t know if that’s the proper spelling. It’s the only one I tried that didn’t look dead wrong)
It’s a problem.
Of course, another problem is that grown men walk around these days, not just eschewing hats, ties and waistcoats, but wearing little sports ensembles with shorts and matching sleeveless shirts in eye-bending color combinations meant to mimic sports teams. Such a thing would only be allowed of children not too long ago, and an adult wearing them would be taken away for a rest cure.
That’s probably reverse age-ism, by some standards. I can’t keep up any more. And I shouldn’t have to keep up with that kinda thing. I’m crazy childish my-ownself, and there’s no fixing it any more.
At least I hope not. That sounds like some pretty bad trauma.
Pardon me, I’m going to go change into my Mighty Ducks jersey with matching hat and tie. And underpants.
