Skills come from somewhere. Who knows where that wellspring begins?
Might even be from an imaginary skunk ape. You never know.
Skills come from somewhere. Who knows where that wellspring begins?
Might even be from an imaginary skunk ape. You never know.
Who’s gonna blame Bob? Hubris MIGHT be at the food trucks, and if he is, Bob MIGHT get a taco out of it.
Considering how Bob’s life tends to roll, he can probably count on a taco.
Of course Bob would see the need for Hubris to make himself scarce, and of course he’s happy to offer up whatever advice he can.
Bob’s that kinda guy.
The kinda guy that’s reportedly sleeping in the walls somewhere somehow, and doesn’t mind if someone else has the same mad skillz.
After all this is over, they could have some kinda hours-long zen/ninja game of Hide N’ Seek, after all.
So, let’s say that Enis fulfills his dream of buying up the Outdoor Galore Store… Assuming he doesn’t fire Bob within moments of signing the paperwork while remaining out of earshot or line of sight, it’s entirely possible that Enis would hulk out and have some kind of apoplectic fit ending in a massive heart kerfuffle or brain flapdoodle, or possibly just a catastrophic gut pizzazzle.
And I just can’t picture Enis firing someone without wanting to be right there to watch their faces do sad stuff, can you? And when Bob’s face didn’t lose it’s cheery grin…
Paste is such a sentimentalist. He sees his brother’s distress and seeks to lessen his burdens by taking them on himself.
Or something that looks like that, anyhow.
In case you were wondering where our Roller Derby Girl got her nickname ‘Docta Pain’… it wasn’t from the injuries she inflicted during Derby.
It was the emotional damage she would occasionally inflict at practices and in the penalty box (does Derby even have one of those?) amongst the other athletes. She’s not proud of it, and she blames her parents, of course, but every so often… she’s just gotta get that fix, man. She’s gotta see that look in their eyes when the gossip goes deep and dark. Oh, the Pain… Docta Pain.
When covered in multiple layers of different people’s vomit, and in the middle of very stressful conversations with people who are exhausted to the point of hallucination, it’s important to get clavicle-high in greenish spring water. Otherwise, things could get weird.
When you have to have a conversation that you don’t want to have, you know someone’s gonna butt in. And if that person can move his arms and legs around, I mean, dang! Some people, right?
Happy New Year!
It’s good to have these talks. Really get everything out in the open- get on the same page.
My apologies for getting things slightly out of order.
Yesterday’s cartoon comes at the end of next week’s cartoons, but… there were vomit jokes and I guess I just couldn’t wait to hurl ’em at ya!
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