Sunday, September 30, 2018

11:59 Is Still Morning

Like Veeblefester, I'm gonna call b.s. on Brutus' story here. Brutus is always seen taking the bus to work. He never drives. Never. Well, rarely. It makes perfect sense that the one time Brutus drives himself to work, he gets into a car accident. Perfect. Flippin'. Sense.

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Saturday, September 29, 2018

Losing Season

You would think after year-after-year of losing would've built up Wilberforce's immunity to showing emotion losing games. Thing is, even his team's best isn't all that good. I'd be nice to blame the whole thing on Wilberforce but he's usually positioned behind the giant tree outside of the field or in the dugout.

Friday, September 28, 2018

Why Is She Even Asking?

There's no explanation for how "Take Me Out To the Ball Game" became the song to sing during the 7th inning stretch. Actually, it has been sort of replaced by "God Bless America" since 9/11 and that actually just makes me want to hear "Take Me Out To the Ball Game" more. What's even more interesting is that there's no good reason why baseball's "halftime" is in the middle of the 7th inning and not, say, the middle of the 4th.

Just proves that baseball needs to cut back on the number of innings.

Thursday, September 27, 2018

Someone Should Switch the Speech Bubbles

Just eat whatever you want. It won't fill that gaping hole in heart or make you live any longer when you really think about the longevity of time.

.Brutus doesn't even love Wilberforce enough to say that he came from a store.

To be honest, Brutus was probably sparing Wilberforce a whole host of nightmares and trauma as no one wants to get an image of Brutus and Gladys making a baby in their brain.

Wednesday, September 26, 2018

Tauy Creek Digest #46: The Monsters Are Due on Orange Street

The six friends were running all over Orange Street as they did every summer. Zeke was the one that lived on Orange Street and everyone usually came to his house because his house was bigger, had more land, and fewer neighbors. They were sitting around the old swing set but not really doing anything. The sun was beating down on them and making it hotter than it was. “Hot today,” Harry said.

Brandon nodded. “Yep.”

“Hot yesterday, too.”

“Want to walk to the gas station and get something to drink?” Geoff asked. The request wasn’t because he was hot and thirsty but mostly out of boredom.

“Nah,” Harry and Lillian said in unison.

They all went silent again. The sun disappeared for a couple of seconds but no one saw what covered it. “What happened?” Geoff asked and looked up at the sun.

“What?” Ben asked.

“It went dark for a second,” Geoff answered.

“It was just the sun going behind a cloud,” Harry explained.

“But there isn’t a cloud near the sun,” Geoff looked up again and pointed.

“There’s one right there,” Harry also looked up and pointed at a decent sized cloud moving fast across the sky. Off in the distance, the six of them heard a SHOOM! noise and looked in the direction it came from.

“Aliens,” Geoff exclaimed.

“How in the hell did we leap from clouds to aliens?” Harry asked.

“It makes perfect sense,” Ben said. “Happens all the time.”

“I’m gonna go in and get some water. You guys want anything?” Zeke asked.

“I asked if we wanted to walk to the gas station,” Geoff said.

“And we didn’t want to do that,” Harry said.

Zeke went into his house and came out a couple minutes later with a bottle of water. “The electricity is out,” he pointed out.

“That must’ve been what the noise was,” Brandon said.

“It’s the aliens,” Geoff corrected. “They flew over, blocking out the sun, and shut off the electricity. They’re planning a takeover.”

“Oh my God,” Lillian exclaimed. “Geoff is a conspiracy freak.”

“A squirrel probably got into the main transformer downtown,” Ben tried explaining. “It happens every other week in this town.”

“Maybe the aliens were throwing those squirrels into the transformers as practice runs so we’d all think it was a squirrel when the aliens finally made their move,” Brandon said.

“Stop encouraging him,” Harry leaned over to Brandon.

“Yes,” Geoff gasped and pointed directly at Brandon.

“No,” Brandon said, with a scared lilt to his voice.

“Look, Geoff, you know I already think that you are an idiot, right?” Harry asked, clapping Geoff on the shoulder.

“Yeah.”

“This isn’t helping that opinion.”

“So, you don’t believe that there could be any aliens in the universe or that they would attempt to contact or conquer us?” Geoff asked.

“Look, Geoff, I believe that there is life elsewhere in the universe. All life can’t just be on this planet. It just can’t be, but I just don’t believe that they would contact us let alone conquer us,” Ben explained his opinion on aliens.

“Why not? We’ve attempted to communicate with alien life, maybe they have too. Maybe they are among us. Maybe one of us is an alien,” Geoff looked suspiciously at Harry and Brandon.

“It’s just a power outage, people,” Lillian freaked out. “They happen all the time. This town is an imperfect place.”

“A squirrel in the transformer is the only logical explanation,” Zeke said. “Why else would the power go off all of a sudden?”

“Can’t be a storm. Sky is as blue as anything,” Brandon shrugged.

“Does it seem quieter to you?” Geoff said ominously, almost in a whisper. “Like everything has stopped working—even the cars?”

“Where did you hear a car? Zeke lives on the edge of town. There’s no traffic here,” Lillian asked.

“Let’s just go to a neighbor’s house and see if their power is out or something. No point in just standing here assuming stuff,” Harry said. “Come on, Zeke, let’s see if the power is on at other houses.”

Zeke and Harry started walking away. “You better not,” Geoff suddenly say. “They don’t want you to.”

Zeke and Harry stopped walking, looked at each other and rolled their eyes. “Who doesn’t want us to?” Harry asked.

Geoff glanced up and nodded to the sky, kind of pointing with his chin. “Them.”

“Them,” Zeke repeated.

“Who are them?”

“Whoever was in whatever blocked out the sun and shut everything off,” Geoff answered.

“What are you talking about?” Harry was getting irritated.

“I have this giant comic book of UFO stories and this is one of them. The aliens turn off the power to everything so we can’t go anywhere or do anything to retaliate against them.”

“How could the neighbors of Orange Street retaliate against an alien armada?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, wouldn’t aliens know to attack New York or Washington D.C. or something?” Lillian questioned.

“They don’t want to be noticed. It’s hard to conquer a planet when everyone knows about it.”

“Geoff,” Ben took a step toward him. “You know I’ve called you an idiot since I met. It’s one of the most consistent things in my life, but this is quite possibly the stupidest thing that I have ever heard come out of your mouth.”

“Have you heard him discuss chemtrails?” Brandon asked.

Geoff pointed at Brandon. “It’s the number one cause of cancer.”

“All right,” Ben looked at everyone. “I think we’re done here. We’re gonna head through town and prove that it’s just a squirrel committing suicide in a transformer.”

Everyone started walking with Ben. Geoff followed behind. “Finally. I thought we’d never leave to get drinks at the gas station,” he said.

Harry closed his eyes and slowed down his breathing as he continued to walk. “Remind me when get to the ditch at Monroe Street to murder Geoff and throw his dead body in it.”

Tuesday, September 25, 2018

Pizza

Hey, if you like anchovies and this actually works to where you get an entire pizza for yourself then more power to you.

I like my pizza simple. I like meat and I like my mushrooms and olives. I will not eat a pizza with peppers or onions on it. I feel like I am that point in my life where I don't have to eat your garbage pizza. "Oh, well pick off the onions and peppers," you say. I can still taste them and is that really something someone should do? Pick off 1/6 of the toppings just so they can enjoy some pizza? Get out of here with that noise and order basic pepperoni and/or meat lovers.

Monday, September 24, 2018

Business Acumen

Brutus, here's what you do: You record yourself for an entire day. I think you'll be surprised at some of your phrasing and how it sounds like setups for people to insult you.

Sunday, September 23, 2018

Arjon #1

Hidden in a secluded jungle somewhere in the Philippines, Arjon laid against a tree while half the village did chores and the other half did drills. He was looking up at the what sky he could see through the canopy.

An elder came up to Arjon. “Where are you supposed to be?”

“Anywhere but here,” Arjon replied.

“Are you unhappy, my son?”

“Not unhappy. Bored,” Arjon said. “I want to leave this place. Go into civilization and experience something different.”

“Many a Banana have left the jungle. Most return, some cannot. Civilization is a harsh place. Especially for us. We don’t fit in,” the elder explained.

“I want to take that chance. I want to go out into civilization and one way or another, sooner or later, I’m going to go,” Arjon said.




Within a couple of months, Arjon found himself leaving his village and arriving in a west coast American city. He had gotten many stares but stayed positive. The first thing he wanted to do was try the food. He hadn’t eaten at all during the 15-hour trip and was starving. He knew that there was one food he wanted to try immediately.

“Excuse me, madame but where can I find a hamburger merchant?”

“Uh,” the woman was stunned by the six foot talking banana but tried to retain her composure. “There’s a McDonald’s right outside the airport. Best burgers you’ll ever eat. Please don’t hurt me.”

“Thank you, kind madame.”

At McDonald’s, Arjon was enjoying his burgers while everyone else was staring in awe at him or taking pictures with their phones. Or both. When Arjon was finished eating, a police officer took hold of his arm. “All right, buddy. Come with me.”

“Oh, my. Is something wrong, officer?” Arjon asked.

“Just come with me. You’re causing a disturbance.”

“It seems my first adventure into America isn’t starting out so well.”




“So what do we actually have on him?” the Chief of Police asked.

“Nothing, really,” the officer said. He turned his head quickly. “Being a banana?”

“That sounds like a slippery slope. Besides, he has all the proper paperwork. Apparently there’s a whole island of these things.”

“You want I just let him go?”

“Yeah,” the Chief waved his hand. “Let him go.”

Arjon was let go but had no where to go. He wandered downtown for a bit, people taking pictures of him or recording him. A couple of people even took selfies with him. A young guy came out of a bar and took Arjon by the shoulder. “You’re that banana, aren’t you? That’s a stupid question. Of course you are.”

“I seem to draw a lot of attention,” Arjon sighed.

“Here. The first thing you can do is not be out in public being all banana-y. Do you like hamburgers?”

“Oh, yes. I see a golden M right down the street!” Arjon exclaimed.

“What? Those hamburgers?” the guy questioned. “Let’s go over there. Best hamburgers in Oceandale.”

“Marvelous. I’m Arjon, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Arjon. I’m Caleb.” The Pad, the hamburger joint Arjon and Caleb went to, was a relic of the 1950s space age. The Pad was always celebrating American ingenuity and fighting Soviet Communists. “Isn’t this better? You’re acting normal and no one is paying attention you,” Caleb took a bite of his burger. “Where are you from? What are you doing here?” Caleb asked while chewing.

“I’m from a small village in the Philippines. We’re very isolated so we’re kind of like our own country. I’m here to just be around civilization.”

“Do you have a place to live or anything? Money?”

“I have some money my village gave me. I have nowhere to stay,” Arjon said. “Where are you staying?”

“I live in a dorm on campus. I go to Borton College.”

“College. That’s what I should do. Is Borton a good school?”

“It’s better than those schools that advertise on TV or the radio,” Caleb said. “Go Neanderthals!” Caleb lowered his brow and waved an imaginary club around a couple of times. “We’ll head over there when we’re finished.”




“We can’t let him in. He’s a banana,” one of the admission people said.

“Replace the word ‘banana’ with black, Asian, Muslim, a woman, and you’ll see how that statement could get us into a lot of trouble,” Dr. Malcolm Coot, his voice full of British pompousness and arrogance, said. “Here’s what I say we do. We admit Mr. Arjon free of charge. I’ll take him under my wing and every week I’ll check on him, see how he’s doing, and get his views on life here and back at home. Let’s remember that Mr. Arjon can give us valuable information on his life, culture, education, and that is very important and very publishable.”

“So you’re suggesting we admit Mr. Arjon so that you can write a paper or something on him?” another admission person asked.

“Picture it,” Dr. Coot leaned back, smiling, and flashing his hands. “‘A Review of a Bananian in the American Collegiate System’ by Dr. Malcolm Coot, Borton College.”

“So you want to use Mr. Arjon to boost your own status?”

“And the status of Borton, yes.”

“I’m a Neanderthal!” Arjon exclaimed, running to Caleb.

“Awesome. Were they able to find you a dorm room?” Caleb asked.

“I’m in Stone Hall. Fourth floor.”

“Cool. I’m in Stone. Third floor. We’re practically neighbors.”




“So basically, I met one nice American,” Arjon said to Dr. Coot.

“Good, good. What is education like in your village?”

“We learn our entire lives. Half the day is spent in school and the other half is doing chores. I decided to come to America when I should’ve been learning. I wanted to see more of the world. Only half a dozen Bananians have ever left the village. Five died.”

“And what happened to the sixth?”

“He was gone for a couple months and then came back. He never talked about what he did or what he saw. Never talked about leaving the village again. Everyone just assumed he had seen some pretty terrible things.”

“Are you afraid that you’ll see some pretty terrible things?”

“Humans are basically good. And I think they will surprise us all while I’m here.”

“Fascinating,” Dr. Coot wrote down some things on his notepad “and very, very publishable.”

The Summer of '82

If you're looking for new stuff to peruse and be entertained with, here are three suggestions for you. The first is GoodbadComics. Coming at you from Pune, India, Adi's comics give you a look inside her life. She also does a recurring series called "Make Stuff With Butt". You can check her out on Instagram and Patreon.


Next is Extra Fabulous Comics, an absurd and sometimes surreal look at life and pop culture. You can check him out on Instagram or Webtoons.



A post shared by Extra Fabulous (@extrafabulous_comics) on

The last is PostIt Pals, a simple twice-daily comic printed on a Post-It Note. From the mind of some guy in London named George Walters, you can check it on Instagram.


Don't forget, you can also check me out on Instagram as well where I post about what I'm working on, about life, history, events, and an assortment of other things.

You know, in this world of sex-shaming and what have you, it's difficult to remember that way back when, it was perfectly common for a woman to have several suitors interested in her that would have to compete, if you will, for her attention and love. These days, I know guys who will go on shooting sprees if their girlfriend talks business with a male coworker.

If you wish to support my writing or my research, you can buy me a cup of coffee on Ko-Fi.

Saturday, September 22, 2018

Why Do You Think?

Brunch was originally coined in 1895 as a late meal for "Saturday night carousers." Basically, a meal for people who were out too late on Saturday and woke up late on Sunday. While we like to think of brunch as being lighter than breakfast or lunch apparently you can slap any combination of breakfast or lunch foods together and call it brunch. Why have rules for anything?

I hope after that 'lunkfast' remark, Gladys broke that glass on the edge of the table and cut Wilberforce's face off.

Friday, September 21, 2018

Revolutionary

Teacher: "Class, your assignment was to find out all you could about the Revolutionary War. Hurricane Hattie, what did you find out?"

Hattie: "In the span of about ten years, France had conquered and acquired many lands from Italy to North America. Napoleon, who led the coalition to conquer Egypt, organized a coup and became the King of France which then led into another ten years or so of war."

Teacher: "I meant the American Revolutionary War."

Hattie: "Well, damn. I thought you meant the French one. You should've been more clearer."

Thursday, September 20, 2018

🀯

I guess his entire week was spent trying to figure out who was screwing up in production. We didn't  see Brutus at work this week. Which is fine. The strips about work are the worst ones because Veeblefester is a bad person and Brutus is bad at his job. There are only so many jokes you can make about that.

Wednesday, September 19, 2018

Trophy Spouse

"Could there ever be anyone else for you?"

"Why? Did Lividia die? Is Veeblefester free? I mean, we kind of already look alike so we might as be husband and wife."

"...Wut...?"

Tuesday, September 18, 2018

3 Across

My Mom used to love doing the crossword in the TV Guide. She would even buy the small digest magazines that were just TV Guide crosswords. TV Guide crosswords are considered the easiest crosswords but I don't know. I guess if you know a lot about TV, it would be easy to solve the puzzles quickly.

When I first began making my own publications back in 1998 or whatever, I did three issues of a word search title. Like everything else I've done, I made zero dollars from it.

Monday, September 17, 2018

Are They On First?

I understand what Brutus is saying (The problem is in production but production isn't the problem, it's this person and they will be able to tell us why.) but why does he have that look on his face?

Sunday, September 16, 2018

Mom's Taxi #3


A tyrannosaurus rex was still an imposing force just like in museums. The feathers made a red and orange pattern on the T-Rex. It was still odd seeing feathers on the dinosaurs instead of leathery reptilian skin. Lindsay was speeding across the prairie attempting to put as much distance as she could between the car and the T-Rex. For whatever reason, the T-Rex had fixated on the car, probably because it was different, and was chasing the girls and getting closer with each step.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Lindsay saw something moving next to the car. She glanced over and saw a woman riding a sabretooth tiger. The woman but shouting but Lindsay couldn’t hear her. Lindsay rolled her window down.

“Follow me to safety,” the woman hollered. The tiger began going faster than the car. Lindsay shrugged and began following the woman and tiger.

The crossed the prairie and into the foothills of the rocky area below the mountains. They veered around rocks and went into a cave. The T-Rex was nowhere to be seen or heard. Lindsay parked, shut off the car, and got out. “Stay here,” she looked at all the girls. Lindsay got out, with her hands up, and slowly approached the woman on the tiger who looked barely older than Georgia’s sister, Audrey. “Thank you for helping us.”

The woman raised her hands the same way. “You are welcome. You are not from here, are you?”

Lindsay got the hint that she was being mocked and put her hands down. “No. I’m not even sure how we got here. We were just driving and ended up here.”

“Where is ‘here’?” Maddie asked as she, Brooklyn, Georgia, and Karmen got out of the car.

“Girls, I said to stay in the car,” Lindsay chided.

“I am Samar. This is Kaa,” she hopped off the tiger and softly patted it. “You are safe with us.”

“That’s good. I’m Lindsay.”

“Lin-see,” Samar repeated. “And the girl cubs?”

“These two are my children, Brooklyn and Karmen. The other two are Georgia and Maddy, the daughters of friends,” Lindsay explained. “Are you the only one around here that is like us?” Lindsay asked.

Samar nodded.




Christine didn’t know how John could sleep so soundly. Their daughter was missing. Four kids were missing. And a friend. The friend may have done something to the kids. It was all too much to Christine. She got out of bed and went to the living room. She collapsed on a couch and got out her phone. She opened her text messages and went to Michael’s. His last text to her was kissy-face emoji.

She wrote a text to him and sent it. It took nearly five minutes before he responded back. They had a good back and forth for nearly half an hour. Audrey came downstairs and gasped when she saw her mother sitting on the couch.

“Oh, God. You scared me,” Audrey said, catching her breath and trying to add a chuckle to her voice.

“Sorry. What are you doing up? Thinking about Georgia?” Christine asked.

“Not really,” Audrey said. “Nothing against the seriousness of Georgia’s disappearance but I have my own problems.”

“Like what?” Christine asked.

“I…” Audrey began. This was the perfect chance to tell her mother but it was more than just telling her. It required an in-depth conversation on whether or not she wanted to keep it and the pros and cons of every little decision. Was that a conversation she wanted to have at one in the morning? But what could be as important to distract from Georgia? “I’m pregnant,” she blurted out.

Christine sat her phone down. “What?”

“Josue and I started having sex back around Thanksgiving. I haven’t had a period since February and the pregnancy test I took was positive,” Audrey quickly checkmarked.

Christine never liked Josue. Call it racism if you wanted, she thought to herself, but Josue was lazy, got terrible grades, was still too childish, and always seemed to put Audrey--anyone, actually--after himself. “Does Josue know?”

Audrey nodded. “He’s been very positive about it. He wants to be in our lives.”

“So you are keeping it? Have you thought about your options?”

“Yes, I think I know what I want to do.”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” Christine huffed. “Go back to bed.”

“I came down for a drink,” Audrey said.

“Then get your drink and get back to bed.”

When Christine was alone again after a few minutes, she looked at her phone. Michael was talking about what he wanted to do to her and had described in loving detail what Christine felt like when he was inside her. Christine smiled and texted back that she’d be over first thing in the morning.




Samar had caught and was now cooking three squirrel-like animals over an open fire. Lindsay had some snacks--granola bars, oatmeal cream pies, cheese crackers--in the back of the car along with bottles of water.

“You didn’t have to cook for us, Samar,” Lindsay said. “We could’ve eaten our game food.”

“You need meat,” Samar said. “It’ll be nice to have more company than Kaa.” The tiger lifted his head at the sound of his name.

“Can you help us get home?” Georgia asked Samar, sneering at the cooking squirrels.

Samar shrugged. “I can help but I don’t know how.”

“Is there anyone who may know how to help?” Georgia snapped.

“Georgia,” Lindsay scolded. “If we don’t know what happened to us then why would Samar? Also, we’re Samar’s guest so be polite.”

“I am the only one around here,” Samar began, removing the squirrels from the fire and prepping them to be served. As she spoke, she didn’t look at her visitors. “There is someone who might know. In the town. She’s older. It’s a three-sundown journey though.”

“Three days?” Lindsay looked behind her at the car. “I think we can do better than that.”




“I’m surprised you came over,” Michael said watching a naked Christine get back into bed. “I saw the news this morning.”

Christine covered her eyes and laughed. “Yeah, it’s almost like fate is trying to tell me something.”

“Any ideas on what happened?” Michael asked.

“I don’t know what to think,” Christine said. “I don’t think Lindsay did anything to them so I don’t know what happened.”

“I’m sure everything will be fine,” Michael leaned over and kissed Christine on her forehead.

Christine’s phone rang. She reached over and answered it. “Hello? Yeah. Uh-huh. Sure. Sure, I’ll head out now,” she hung up and sunk lower into the bed.

“What’s up?”

“I lied to the police yesterday. I told them I was at the store when Georgia was with Lindsay when I was really screwing around with you.”

“Seriously?”

“My husband was standing right there and there was more fish to fry besides my infidelity,” Christine got out of bed and began picking up her clothes. “Where are my socks?”

“I thought you came over in flip flops,” Michael said.

“Yes, I did,” Christine exhaled loudly. “I am exhausted. Hopefully this will all be resolved quickly.”

“I hope so, too. I’ll see you later.”

Christine leaned back and kissed Michael passionately. “Yeah,” she pulled away. “See you.”

Grove


Silver Lake Township in Shawnee County, Kansas, used to stretch from the Kansas River to Jackson County--a full 11 miles. In 1918, county commissioners approved splitting Silver Lake Township. The southern portion, the southern 5 miles, was now going to be Silver Lake Township while the northern portion, the remaining 6 miles, was to become Grove Township. According to reports in newspapers in Rossville and Silver Lake, the split was due to road maintenance.

There are no communities in Grove Township and what communities there were have long since disappeared. The earliest was Swinburn which was never in Grove Township but in Silver Lake Township. A post office operated from 1896 until 1901. It was never a town but had three livery stables, a blacksmith, and grocer. Swinburn, at least the post office, was located near present-day 78th and Hoch Road. In 1905, the town of Grove was established as a stop along the newly complete Union Pacific side track to Marysville in Marshall County, was completed. Grove was to be a major shipping area for the area which probably helped garner support for the township split.

A township hall was constructed shortly after the split and at its peak in 1920, Grove consisted of a grocer, a depot, a grange, and a bank--the Grove State Bank--that only lasted three years. A small community still exists around Grove and the township has a brand new township hall that also houses a volunteer fire department. Grove was located along Tibbs Road between 66th and 70th Street. The last community was Doel, located a quarter mile of Grove, at present-day 70th and Tibbs Road. Doel shows up in a 1921 atlas but not much more is known about it. Neither Grove or Doel had post offices.

Today, Grove Township is a quiet portion of Shawnee County. The nearest towns are Silver Lake to the south and Rossville to the west and Grove Township is the rare Shawnee County township that the suburban sprawl of Topeka doesn't reach. There are rolling hills and beautiful creek valleys making Grove Township one of the most natural and scenic areas of Shawnee County.

The railroad tracks at 66th & Tibbs where Grove was located.

The Soldier Creek Marsh Arch Bridge at 70th & Valencia. Built in 1922.
The view of Soldier Creek from the bridge.

A view of Grove Township from Docking Road south of 70th Street. 
66th & Hoch with a sign that points the way to Grove Township Hall & Fire Station.


Oh, God. Here it is. Yet another public education "teacher" indoctrinating our children about the lies of the environment and climate change. This is why they don't deserve higher wages. When they stop shoving their liberal agenda down our throats and start letting the kids pray again, then I'll be on their side!

There. I just posted your complete troll diatribe so now you don't have to on the comments section of today's strip. FYI, my carbon footprints is between 13 and 15 depending on the shoe manufacturer.

If you would like to support my writing and research, you can buy me a cup of coffee on Ko-Fi.

Saturday, September 15, 2018

What's He Been Doing With Those Hands?

Remember when telling your kids to watch their hands was a thing? Now, we don't because we want to make sure all of organic meals remain organic and that means keeping all the dirt on our hands and not getting any bastardized soap particles and fluoridated city water on them.

Friday, September 14, 2018

Recycled Content

The capitalist pigs I mentioned earlier this week won't let you just reuse resources. They need to drill for oil and natural gas, pollute the water, and cut down all the trees for new resources because, I don't know. It helps their bottom line, I guess?

Odd aside, back in the 1990s, Archie Comics used to print on their covers that their books were made from post-blah-blah-recycled materials or something. It's always weird seeing it because it stands out and take up more room on an already crowded cover. I mean, look at it.

Thursday, September 13, 2018

Hot Ham Water

Is it pumpkin spice? It's pumpkin spice isn't it?

Is it foot? Because it kind of tastes like foot. And soggy celery.

Wednesday, September 12, 2018

Secret Identity

I know Gladys is using Clark Kent as an insult here but Clark Kent is pretty awesome. Even as a journalist, he stands up for truth and justice and works to find corruption in every aspect of government, business, and in every day life. He's also a nice person with a steady job, cares about this planet and its people, and has a really good build despite wearing glasses.

Not to mention Clark was/is able to get Lois Lane, Lana Lang, and Cat Grant so there's also that.


Tuesday, September 11, 2018

He Said 'Happy To Say'

I can't believe that we are fine with living in a world where your employer can just cut your pay for whatever reason. "But what if the company needs to cut expenses?" "But what if they are a bad employee?" I hear you cry, you capitalist pigs. Run your company better and either train them better, put the bad employee on a performance plan, or just fire them. You can't just toy with them to get them to dance like your little puppets.

Monday, September 10, 2018

Yawn-Day

I've been reading The Born Loser for most of my life in the newspaper before transitioning to reading it online back in 2008 and I can say with great certainty that I have never considered Brutus overworked. If anything, he probably needs more work but he'd just mess it up anyway.

Sunday, September 9, 2018

Tank N Tummy #7

MaryJane had stayed home from work and there was a good reason for it.

Yesterday, after work, MaryJane stopped to get a large soda from the Tank N Tummy. When she got home, there was a rolled-up flyer stuck between the door knob and the door jamb. She grabbed it and looked at it. On it was information about the Mormon search and Latter-Day Saints. Two missionaries were also pictured in their white shirts, red ties, and black pants.

“Mormons? I missed Mormons?” she angrily dropped the flyer to her side and unlocked her apartment door.


She was sitting on the couch, watching a soap opera with a hand down her pants and the other hand holding the flyer. She was staring intently at the two Mormons on it.

There was a knock on the door. MaryJane threw the pamphlet down and rushed to the door. She wiped her hand on her pants as she opened the door to reveal two Mormons standing in the hallway.

“Hello, nurse,” she said quietly.

“Hi, I’m Elder Shawn and this is Elder Dana,” the taller Mormon spoke. “Would you like to help us with a survey?”

“I’ll help you with a lot more than a survey,” MaryJane sighed and bit her lip.

“Great. It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

“MaryJane. Do you want to come in? We can get a bit more comfortable on the couch,” she invited.

The Mormons seemed shocked at the instant invite. They nodded at each other and followed MaryJane in. They sat down on the couch and looked at MaryJane. “When was the last time you spoke to Jesus?”

“Seven weeks ago?” she questioned herself. “I don’t really talk to him. He’s not attractive but he’s as big as my wrist,” she cooed as she raised her left arm.

“No, no. Jesus--our Lord and Savior,” Elder Shawn said. “Have you allowed Jesus into your life?”

“That Jesus? No. But I’m willing to let anything inside me,” MaryJane said. “Anything.”

“Well, we want to talk to you about Jesus Christ,” Elder Dana began as MaryJane squeezed between them on the couch. As Elder Dana spoke, MaryJane gently rubbed the missionaries’ legs.

“You guys are so open and happy but so uptight at the same time,” MaryJane interrupted. “How can you wear those clothes all the time? It’s like a straitjacket.”

“It’s standard attire,” Elder Dana said.

“You get used to it,” Elder Shawn leaned closer to MaryJane. “It can be a bit...restrictive sometimes,” he bit his lip.

It’s happening, MaryJane’s brain screamed. “Well, feel free to get comfortable.”

“Have you heard of the Book of Mormon?” Elder Dana said as he reached into his backpack. When he looked up, he saw Elder Shawn and MaryJane kissing. “Elder Shawn,” Elder Dana chastised.

“It’s okay, Elder Dana, there’s plenty of me to go around,” MaryJane leaned back and spread her legs.

“I’m here to spread the word of the Lord, not gad around with cheap trash,” Elder Dana stood up.

“High praise,” MaryJane thanked.

“I’m leaving, Elder Shawn, are you coming with me?”

“You can see why I can’t, right?” Elder Shawn kept motioning with his hands to MaryJane.

Elder Dana sighed and rolled his eyes. “God is very disappointed with you.”

“I’ll help you move on from His disappointment,” MaryJane said, pulling Elder Shawn on top of her.




Dominic and his date drove down an empty county road. “Turn right here,” the pointed. Dominic turned. “And then another right.” He made another quick turn and drove up a washed out road that went up a slight hill. He round the curve and saw that they were on top of a hill with a cemetery.

“Uh, Sepulveda? This is the quiet and peaceful place we can be alone?”

“Yeah. What’s more quiet and peaceful than a hill covered in dead people?” Sepulveda asked. Dominic parked and she jumped out of the car.

As Dominic got out, he noticed the cemetery only had about a dozen and a half gravestones. The view was very beautiful but it was an odd place to go while out on their third date.

“So why’d you bring us here?” Dominic asked.

“This is one of my favorite places ever,” Sepulveda said. “I always bring my dates here for our first time.”

“That’s weird,” Dominic said. Sepulveda leaned up against Dominic, they fell against the car, and the two started making out. When Sepulveda pulled away, she was breathing heavily.

“I’m gonna go set up,” she patted his chest. “I’ll let you know when I’m done. Turn around. No peeking.”

Sepulveda opened the trunk and grabbed a backpack that she had brought along and went off into the cemetery. She was gone for a few minutes as Dominic faced the opposite direction. Sepulveda came back and tapped Dominic on the shoulder.

Dominic turned and saw Sepulveda dressed in a flowing nightgown. She led him to a flat gravestone that was even with the ground. Small tea candles were lit and placed about a foot away from the stone on either side. “Are you going to kill me and intermingle my blood with the candle wax?”

She laughed. “No. We’re going to make love,” she cooed. She pressed up against him and they kissed. “Like I said, all my first times have been here. Right here,” she motioned to the flat stone.

Dominic looked at the stone. He could barely read the name in the darkness. CLAUDIA RAKE. 1853-1878. There was more on it but Dominic couldn’t read it. “This is weird,” he said again. “I’m fine having sex with you back in the car in the cemetery but it seems disrespectful to do it right on top of a grave and on the stone.”

“You won’t even know it’s there once we get going,” Sepulveda said.

“I think I will though,” Dominic said, eyeing the stone again.

“I promise,” Sepulveda got down on her knees and began fiddling with his pants. “You’ll forget all about the stone.”

Using her feminine ways, Sepulveda got Dominic with her on the gravestone. He didn’t quite forget that the gravestone was underneath them but it wasn’t a constant thought in his mind like he thought it would be.




The next day, at the Tank N Tummy, Dominic was working the counter when MaryJane came in. “Hey, M.J., how was your evening?”

“It was great. I had sex with one of those Mormons who go door-to-door to bother you about their religion.”

“A missionary?”

“Yeah. But then he felt bad about betraying God or whatever and he started to cry and reaffirmed his commitment to his faith.”

“Ah,” Dominic nodded. “It was my third date with Sepulveda.”

“Ooh. Where’d you go?”

“Well, after dinner she took us to a cemetery where proceeded to have sex on a gravestone.”

“Weird,” she sounded disgusted. “Was it good?” intrigued.

“Yes, it was amazing,” Dominic rolled his eyes. “It was on a gravestone. It was all kinds of messed up. Apparently, she always has her first times there.”

“I took advantage of a devout religious person. That’s messed up, too,” she sighed and both were silent for a couple of seconds. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Had sex,” Dominic finished. He and MaryJane high-fived.

Triple Decker Catch-Up

If you are a football fan and have to ask "what position is that?" then it's pretty clear that the position is made up, right? I'm surprised the coach even gives Wilberforce the correct days for the games anymore.

It is interesting that the coach tries his hardest to keep Wilberforce from being included in any of the plays when it's clear that the entire team is the problem. Maybe he should play Wilberforce, he couldn't possibly do any worse.

This is the second time in about a week that Brutus has gotten clobbered by a golf ball. At least this time it is because of someone else and not his own bad playing. I don't understand why any word can't be a word of warning in golf.

If you would like to support my writing and research, you can buy me a cup of coffee on Ko-Fi.

Thursday, September 6, 2018

Eight Reasons Why

1)He has a decent job

2)He appears to love Gladys and Wilberforce

3)He doesn't have many, if any, vices

4)He's laid back

5)He can (barely) provide a good life

6)He is not abusive

7)He smells like what I think Danny DeVito smells like

8)He continues to let Mother Gargle come over despite the abuse she give him

Wednesday, September 5, 2018

Loaded

Veeblefester is so loaded that he owns his own tea cozy manufacturer and distributor but yet always posts a profit despite no one having bought a tea cozy in years. People don't buy tea cozies, they inherit them from relatives who are either moving into an assisted living facility, died, or made them themselves.

Tuesday, September 4, 2018

Dream On

You would think that Veeblefester would have his own private watercooler so he wouldn't have to drink with the rabble.

I had two dreams that I vaguely remember. One was about work and the other was about pie or something.

Monday, September 3, 2018

Patient 0

It's probably just allergies but, yeah, Brutus now has the flu. I hear a lot of people saying that they get sick when they get their flu shot which means it's working. You are being injected with dead flu virus so your white blood cells, believing there is an intruder in your body, go to work and essentially make you sick. You then become immune to that flu virus so you don't get it anymore. And chances are, you'd probably be sicker longer if you actually caught the flu and not gotten a flu shot but, whatever, that's just science. And the government is spraying us with chemicals from the sky.

Sunday, September 2, 2018

Short Game

I just want to throw out some appreciation and R-E-S-P-E-C-T to Aretha Franklin and her giant procession of pink Cadillacs. Not to mention her wardrobe changes throughout her memorial service.

If you would like to support my writing or research, you can buy me a cup of coffee over on Ko-Fi.

What? This is comic is specifically written for someone and it's not your average people who actually sit down and read the newspaper or peruse daily comics online. I understand that the joke is that Brutus is bad golf player--we saw evidence of that yesterday--but to fully understand why he's bad, you have to know what a short game of golf and drives off the tee are. I don't know, Chip. Do you really think today's comic plays with the kids in Peoria?

Saturday, September 1, 2018

That's Why You Yell 'Fore!'

Oh, great. Now Brutus is going to have his second concussion for the year. Maybe this is what really happened. Brutus snuck out to play a round of golf during work, and the ball hit him on the top of his head. Needing medical care but not wanting to reveal that he snuck out of work, Brutus drives back, fakes falling down and says he's "dazed and confused" and probably has a "concussion" in order to get the company to pay for his medical expenses. This kind of thing happens all the time.