Saturday, September 30, 2017

Paper Clowns

I think the main difference is napkins, if you buy the higher brand, are softer than paper towels. I don't care if you use paper products but if you're going to use napkins in an effort to be fancy, use cloth napkins. Unless you are one of those families that always keep napkins on the table in a holder. I never had fancy napkins--paper or cloth--growing up so Wilberforce should be glad he lives in a family that can afford paper napkins.

Incredible Comics #17

The riverfront Goebel Building was ready for its grand opening. It’s lower floor, looking out over the street was to be filled with half a dozen commercial businesses. The next several floors were to be a casino, the only part of the building that was open and ready to use at the moment. After that, was office spaces. A few of those were occupied and Alderman Lucius Goebel, who had commissioned and built the skyscraper, had his company’s office and campaign headquarters in it. The next six stories was a hotel, the first in the neighborhood. Nobody spent a night along the harbor unless they absolutely had to. This building was going to change that. Above that were residential units for the wealthy elite. A couple had been purchased by Lucius’ friends but they hadn’t moved in and the residences were still bare.

Everybody who was anybody was at the opening gala for the casino. Numerous news outlets were there along with all the aldermans of Golden City, many business owners and other upper crusts. Even the mayor was there. For the Golden City Herald, Gail Porter was there to take photos and get a write-up for it in the social section. It was going to be her first written assignment for the Herald so even though it was just a simple society piece, it was a big deal that could lead to other thing. She took pictures of attendees milling about and talking. She figured that this might get a full page spread so out of a hundred or so she’d take, maybe six would be used.

The party had been going for almost an hour when Lucius Goebel showed up. He immediately began shaking hands with everyone around him. With women, he would take their hand gently in his and give them a fake peck on the cheek. Gail hated all this fake appreciation. She hated things like this that glorified money. Maybe she’d think differently if she had any money.

A man came out of the kitchen and Lucius quickly made a bee-line to him. Gail followed and got a couple of pictures of Lucius and the man shaking hands. “Who’s that?” Gail leaned in and asked someone near her that looked important.

“I don’t know. He came out of the kitchen. Maybe the caterer,” the person responded.

“The caterer?” Gail exclaimed. “Lucius seemed really anxious to shake his hand,” Gail took another picture.

A couple hours passed. Dinner had been served and Lucius stood up and walked over to a podium. “Ladies and gentlemen. Fellow Golden Citians. I thank you for being here tonight. I am pleased and honored that you are here to witness and be a part of the revitalization of Ward 7. As you all know, I’ve been alderman of this ward for seven years and have been working with the city to take this neighborhood back from crime and poverty. We have demolished half a dozen abandoned or terribly dilapidated buildings. The building this casino and hotel and office space are in once had a derelict warehouse. It housed hundreds of homeless people and was used to traffic children. When it collapsed, it nearly killed hundreds of people. I bought the ruins of that warehouse to create a beacon of hope for the neighborhood.”


“It’s only the beginning but an important one. I can only do so much as an alderman. But I want to be able to do to the whole city what I want to do to this neighborhood. With that, I am announcing my intention to run for mayor. Sorry, Mr. Mayor,” Lucius smiled with his teeth at the current mayor, Donald James. The audience laughed. Mayor James blushed slightly, smiled back at Lucius, and waved to the crowd. “Tonight, the casino is open to all of you. All money that the house wins will be donated to two local charities--The Golden City Rescue Mission and the Willow Street Women and Children Service Center--so this is the one and only time you want the house to win.”

Laughter, and then louder applause.

People began getting up and heading to the casino. Gail followed with her camera. For almost two hours, everything was fine. People were having fun and more than willing to let the casino take their money. Gail learned that Lucius filled the remaining empty space in his building. It was a really good night for Lucius Goebel.

The man stood in the robotic suit on a rooftop across from the casino. This was going to be an easy job. The jet boots he wore would fly him over to the casino, he’d break through the window and begin shooting, wounding several people including Lucius Goebel but killing Mayor James. Then he flies back out the window and ditches the suit. The suit would be unidentifiable and not be traced back to the manufacturer, himself, or the boss.

He took a deep breath and stepped off the roof. The jet boots ignited and he flew gracefully toward the casino. He came through the window, shattering the glass. In the confusion, he found Lucius and Mayor James. He began shooting into the crowd but taking care to hit Lucius in the arm and Mayor James in the head. He missed Mayor James, hitting his shoulder.

“I should’ve known you were up to no good and stopped you before this,” Time Man came up behind the man and pulled his arm up, keeping him from aiming into the crowd.

“No,” the man bellowed. He wasn’t sure if this suit could stand up to what he heard Time Man could do and he didn’t want to find out. Get away from him and get out.

“Who are you?” Time Man asked, crushing the arm gun built into the suit.

“I was hired,” he answered and tried to get away from Time Man. His attempt failed and Time Man crushed the chest shield on the suit. It sparked and smoked.

“By who?” Time Man clutched the suit’s helmet. The man felt as though once he gave up a name, Time Man would rip his head off. He remained silent. The helmet was ripped off of the suit an thrown down. Police had started coming up to the casino. The man knew he was done. Few recognized him. Gail recognized him as the strange man who shook Lucius’ hand earlier in the night. “Who are you?”

The man inhaled deeply then exhaled. If he was going down then Lucius was going with him. “Rance Brookings. I was hired by Lucius Goebel to assassinate the mayor.”

“Lies from a criminal,” Lucius said. “I’ve never laid eyes on this man before.”

“You met him earlier tonight,” Gail spoke up. “I have a picture,” she held up her camera.

Everyone looked at Lucius.

“Until we get this sorted out, you should come with us,” one of the policemen said, putting his hand on Lucius’ shoulder.

“Get your hands off me,” Lucius demanded. “I, and several others, require medical attention.”

“We’ll take care of that. Come with us, sir.”

Lucius refused to move.

“I’d go with them,” Time Man said, standing taller than Lucius with his arms crossed.

Lucius then went with the police.

Gail’s story didn’t make the society page. Her pictures and her write-up about the night appeared on the front page along with several of her photos and Lucius Goebel’s mugshot. She had also been promoted with a pay raise. She sat at her new desk in the bullpen of the Herald and smiled. It was a really good night for Gail Porter, reporter and photographer.


Friday, September 29, 2017

Health Unconscious

Just walk.

That's what I tell everyone who mentions they want to get at least a little exercise. Smart small--paved trails, river levees, around your neighborhood--and then work your way onto unpaved, hilly or rocky trails. You may not actually lose any weight or get into shape but at least you are getting your heart and body working.

Thursday, September 28, 2017

I Would Rather Just Have a Pumpkin Pie

Chip is really on a pumpkin spice roll lately. I'm not sure but I'm positive Chip will use a strip of Gladys being all sad and the punchline being something along the lines of "I only get this sad when pumpkin spice lattes go away." If he hasn't already done something like it.

Wednesday, September 27, 2017

Good Use of Company Time

The better coarse of action for this would be to get the place shut down since they may not even be serving food. Taking them to court just because they consider themselves food seems like the long, tedious, and drawn-out path. Just contact whoever does restaurant inspections. That'll probably be quicker.

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

That Time of Year

I don't mind pumpkin spice but I just don't see the appeal. It's kind of like the McRib or Shamrock Shake. All of those things are good but I just can't get excited about them like everyone else. My Mom is a fan of the Nachos Navidad from Taco John's and I just don't get it. It's basically their Super Nachos but with red and green chips. I mean, come on. Seriously?

Monday, September 25, 2017

All Work and No Play

I've never actually seen Brutus do any work in the almost ten years I've been commenting on this comic. I've seen him at his desk with pieces of papers and maybe even writing some things down but as for actual work? Let's just say this pot of coffee and the watercooler appear in this strip a lot more than Brutus' office.

Sunday, September 24, 2017

It's Cute That She Thinks He Has Friends

I get that the pizza is for Brutus so he can watch football but I'm confused as to why 1)he's doing pickup instead of delivery. Maybe they have an order minimum and one pizza doesn't cut it. But that also brings me to 2)why is he not ordering pizza for Gladys and Wilberforce? They need to eat too, right?

Saturday, September 23, 2017

Dead Putting Society

Episode 7F08 (#19)
Created by Matt Groening; Developed by James L. Brooks, Matt Groening, Sam Simon
Written by Jeff Martin
Directed by Rich Moore
Executive Producers James L. Brooks, Matt Groening, Sam Simon
Starring Dan Castellaneta, Julie Kavner, Nancy Cartwright, Yeardley Smith, and Harry Shearer
Also Starring Maggie Roswell

Things get heated when Ned Flanders invites Homer over for a quick swig of beer while the guys were doing some yard work. Homer gets upset that Flanders has a nicer house than him but also that his children are nicer and love him more and that Ned has a loving, caring, and perfect wife whose butt is also higher than Marge's. Ned tells Homer to leave but feels guilty about it later and, after consulting Reverend Lovejoy, writes Homer a letter apologizing. Homer, and the rest of the Simpsons family, end up mocking the letter. Homer decides to take the family mini-golfing where Flanders has also taken Todd. Flanders tries to buddy up but Homer sees an opportunity to show Flanders up by signing Bart up for a golf tournament. Flanders also signs up Todd, who is the vastly superior golfer.

Bart, who is no good at golf, goes to Lisa to get some coaching and, using math and the art of zen, is able to turn Bart into a pretty good golf player. Unfortunately, Homer really wants Bart to win and even bets Flanders that the father of the boy who doesn't win has to mow the father of the winner's yard in their wife's Sunday dress. As Bart and Todd face off, both boys don't like the pressure their fathers have placed on them and decide, on the last hole, that they are equally good and the tournament ends in a tie. Homer holds Flanders to the bet and since neither boy technically won...

Random Observations
  • Bart doing his science project instead of mowing the lawn: "Still just a potato."
  • Homer: "There's nothing wrong with crabgrass. It just has a bad name. Everyone would love it if it were called...'elfgrass.'"
  • Who are those people in the old-timey picture in Flanders' rumpus room? Is it one of those novelty photos or do all the Flandereses marry each other?
  • The closing of Flanders' letter: "...and yet, I feel a great sadness in my bosom." Great line and my first introduction to the word 'bosom.'
  • First place in the golf tournament is $50; fourth place is a half price snow cone.
  •  Lisa: "What is the sound of one hand clapping?"
  • I have always found these zen questions intriguing because it really makes you realize how much of our world is a lie. Sound doesn't exist unless we hear it. Color doesn't exist because it is based on what is reflected back at us. It's all really fascinating.
  • Flanders' first idea for who wins the bet is what their wives can make.
  • Flanders makes Marge change the contract from "loser" to "the boy who doesn't win."
  • Flanders is a good foil for Homer. Flanders is everything that Homer isn't. When the series first began, Homer was a decent father--he loved his family, his kids, and was a decent human being. Flanders was Homer times ten. He loves his family and his kids more and is more of a decent human and he barely had to try. That's where, I believe, the competition and dislike came from that Flanders could be better than Homer without even trying while Homer being like Flanders would be very hard for him. As the years went on, they became begrudgingly friends or at least close neighbors. Today, they act like best friends despite their vast differences of Homer being an ass and Flanders being way too conservative and religious.
  • "Ye Olde First Annual Mini-Golf Tournament"
  • Homer, trying to encourage Bart: "Remember what Vince Lombardi said, 'If you lose, you're out of the family.'"

Go State!

I love Brutus' utter disdain for just about everything Gladys says about sports. "Shut your hole, woman, and get me another beer. During games, women should neither be seen nor heard unless they are bringing me pizza rolls. Additional jerkass man comment."

Let's be honest, even if a team has a good coach, it doesn't mean they will be a good team. It usually takes two to five years for a coach's team and plays to take hold.

Friday, September 22, 2017

Classic Hattie

I set her up really good, Wilberforce thought as they walked. I don't know how she comes up with all these great one-liners but if she ever sets up a Patreon, I'll definitely give her some money.

Speaking of Patreon, you can support me and my writing on there for as little as $1 a month. Help me create more content!

Thursday, September 21, 2017

Too Much Work Went Into This

Hey, you know what? Let's see what some of the other comics are doing.

Ugh. Old people and babies. Nothing here.

Ugh. Curtis is just like 60% of my students. Nope.

Here we go. Dagwood is contributing to the delinquency of a minor.

Let's get back to Brutus.


Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Sounds Like a Promotion To Me

As much as I would love to see a series of strips of Brutus trying to figure out things in Timbuktu (Mali is one of my favorite countries) I know that won't happen. It's also a shame that we will probably never hear about the client in Timbuktu ever again.

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Brutus Should Know Better By Now

You know what they say, a person's personality is directly proportionate to a person's...feet.

Does Veeblefester just walk up to one of his employees and insults them? Is this a daily occurrance? Does he do several insults during the day? Does he only pick on Brutus? These are the kind of questions I want answered.

Monday, September 18, 2017

Wearing Him Down

Brutus asks for a raise just about every month and every month he gets a no. This makes me wonder: Does Brutus ever get regularly scheduled raises? Maybe that's why Veeblefester never gives him a raise, he gets them at the end of the fiscal year like normal employees.

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Retirement Woes

So Veeblefester doesn't even offer a crappy 401(k) plan?

Let's be honest, if Brutus has been saving like this his whole working life, let's estimate about 34 years, two paychecks a month so $4 every month, then he should have about $1,600 saved up. That's enough, right?

What? He'll need at least $1,600 EVERY month when he retires? Well, that isn't enough.

Saturday, September 16, 2017

There's No Clock...But There Should Be

I don't know. It is Brutus. Do you really want him to come home?

Supercomics #5

The hallway seemed really long and had bedrooms, a bathroom, and several closets splitting in several directions. Cybernet had drastically changed the house. The rooms had been remade into laboratories and a couple of munitions hangars. At the end of the hallway was, what looked like, a giant engine.

“How did Harris do all this so quickly?” Geo-Whiz asked as he and Superkitten ran down the hall, trying to find Cybernet.

“I am a master of technology. I can mold this place, and any place, into whatever I choose,” Cybernet said as a model of his face suddenly appeared in the wall.

“So I guess you’re kind of master of your domain,” Geo-Whiz smiled at the face. Superkitten gave Geo-Whiz a confused look. He looked at her and noticed the look. “What? I can’t make quip like superheroes in comic books?”

A small beam came out of the wall, where the face-in-the-wall’s cyborg eye was, and struck Geo-Whiz in the abdomen causing him to scream and fall to the floor. “Insolence. I should just kill you and be done with you both and continue on with my plan.”

“Then do it,” Superkitten slammed her fist into the face. The wall dented and the face went away. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just a little burn,” Geo-Whiz looked at the burn mark on his skin. His uniform was burned and tattered where the laser hit. “But now I want to tear this place apart.” Geo-Whiz began using his power to rip up the floor, pulling the ground from underneath and destroying the metal walls and floors.

“Save your energy for Cyber--Harris,” Superkitten said. “Let’s keep going.”

The two continued down the hall toward the engine room of the house. The door opened and Cybernet stood at a control panel among all the metal and wires. “You think you can stop me?” he said and wires and piping began wrapping itself around Geo-Whiz and Superkitten. The floors and walls began to move and soon they were trapped within them.

Geo-Whiz tried to stop panicking so he could focus his powers on the dirt underneath the metal floors. He calmed down just enough and focused his power to the ground below, quaking the dirt up and ripping out the floor and wall. Both were soon free. Superkitten noticed that Cybernet looked visibly concerned.

“Looks like I was wrong, Geo. Tear this place apart. I’ll get Harris,” Superkitten said and launched herself into the room where Cybernet was. Geo-Whiz began using the earth to rip apart the metallic parts of the house. A door suddenly came down, blocking Cybernet and Superkitten from Geo-Whiz and the others.

“This door will keep your team members out while we have some alone time, Alix,” Cybernet said.

“How do you know my name?”

“I am downloading everyone’s information. Soon I will have all the vast knowledge of this pathetic planet and then I will make it pay for what it made me,” Cybernet said.

“What it made you? You volunteered yourself for the military experiment. You decided to murder your wife and children when she became scared of you and what you became,” Superkitten argued.

“This is all your fault. No one else’s.”

“Little girl, you know nothing of what happened. You’re just a scared little girl who feels guilty about her mother, her friend, the kid whose back she broke, and her dead cop father,” Cybernet snarled.

“None of it will matter soon.”

“What are you talking about?”

“A pandemic of epic proportions,” Cybernet said. “A simple virus. Billions will be killed. It will be a new Black Death that the world will never recover from.”

“No. Hundreds of thousands have already died because of you and it stops now,” Superkitten threw herself at Cybernet, striking him across the metallic jaw.

“Lucky hit. It won’t happen again,” Cybernet said and grabbed one of the giant pipes behind him. “Creating this virus required a lot of heat. These pipes carry air that reaches hundreds of degrees. I will burn you until you are nothing but bleached bones.” He tore the pipe from the wall and aimed it at Superkitten. The air began blasting her.

She could feel the heat but the pain wasn’t there. She originally thought that maybe the direct hit had already destroyed her nerves but then realized that she was immune to it. Slowly, she began taking steps toward Cybernet. Now she was starting to feel pain as she got closer but within seconds, the air was gone.

Cybernet had used it all and in the process destroyed the lab and damaged his cybernetic body. “How? How are you still standing?”

“I don’t know but now it’s my turn,” Superkitten hit Cybernet full force with her fist. His face splintered and one of his jaw hinges broke. Another punch, into his abdomen noticeably damaged interior mechanisms. “Not as strong as you thought,” she said and laid into him again. Another punch broke his left eye, the one that was robotic, and Superkitten rammed her left arm through his chest and lifted him up over her head.

“How can a little girl defeat me?” he shrieked.

“Maybe I’m not so little,” she said.

“No, it’s not over. I’ll survive--somehow.”

By now, Superkitten’s other teammates were able to get through the door. They saw Cybernet, a weak husk hanging off of Superkitten’s arm, and stopped in their tracks. “If you do, we’ll still be here. I’ll still be here.” Her arm shifted just a bit and Cybernet went quiet and limp. “He’s too damaged so his body shut down. We’ll be able to find a place to keep this thing, right?”

“I’m sure Dmitri will come up with something,” Agent Spider said.

“Someone help me with this thing. Let’s get out of here,” America said as he began to pick up Cybernet.

Alix was sitting in her room, reading, when Brandon came in. “So what happened in there? Fighting Cybernet? I read the report and it was strange.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t know I could withstand that kind of heat. What skin was exposed is a little red--kind of like a wind burn. I thought that maybe it was just new powers or something but now I’m thinking it had to do with how angry I was.”

“Maybe. We should try to test that some time,” Brandon said. He looked down at her arm and saw a bandage around her wrist. “What happened there?”

“I was testing those powers to see if a knife could cut me. The answer was yes,” she smiled.

“Across your wrist?” Brandon was concerned.

“It’s nothing like that,” she reassured. “I just chose there because it was easily accessible, would hurt, and possibly bleed. No other connotation needed.”

“Well, that’s good but if you ever need anything, let me know,” Brandon offered and got up to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Alix.”

“See you, Brandon,” she smiled at him. After he left, she got up, took off her clothes and turned off the light. She got into bed and closed her eyes.

Friday, September 15, 2017

I Don't Like Wine

We've now spent three days on Mother Gargle's birthday. On the plus side, she is talking to the last main character so we are probably done. I mean, I hope not to see her talking to Hurricane Hattie, Arnie or Wastrel Gravesite on Saturday and out on a birthday date with Veeblefester after he and his wife come to an agreement on their marriage.

Thursday, September 14, 2017


70 is old. I'm not wrong in this, right? Sure, I do believe that you are only as old as you feel and Mother Gargle doesn't seem to be acting like she's 70 but 70 is old. We, as a society, have decreed it. "I'm not that old." Yes, you are. You're 70.

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Don't Take This Post To Mean I Condone Fidget Spinners

I don't think we ever debated the effects of their use on people's brains though so it's not the same thing. I also don't recall teachers being perfectly fine with kids flinging yo-yos all over the classroom.