New Year, New Regrets

Holy crap, Uncle Ted looks old. I guess, looking at his last appearance, he doesn't look different, he just has those lines around his mouth which I have never noticed before. Anyway, don't be like Uncle Ted, treat every day as if it was going to become one of the good old days then you won't have a lifetime of regret.

Where's Wilberforce?

I'll be honest, I miss Dick Clark, too. I miss pre-stroke Dick Clark. I don't know who Guy Lombardo is--he died in 1977--but he sounds about as lame as Dick Clark was the last ten or so years. Happy New Year's everyone.

The Bionic Loser

I don't think Brutus knows anybody named Jeff. He's just been holding on this inflation joke for several days and finally had an excuse to tell it. Also, based on a quick search, with inflation, the Six Million Dollar Man would now cost Thirty-three million dollars. Still nowhere close to six billion, Brutus.

Where's Gladys?!

I have no idea what is being said in the last panel. I know what a wire transfer is but after that everything is just static.

Is Veeblefester throwing some sort of rich person three-day New Years party? That explains why Brutus is there all dressed up but not why Veeblefester is in his robe.

Somewhere in Veeblefester Manor, some Eyes Wide Shut wackiness is happening.

Return of Creterman

 Well, they've lost this account.

Again.

One of the perks(?) of doing this everyday for the past eleven years is that you start to remember the little things. Sure, I don't remember names, dates or places anymore but I do remember that I've seen the name Creterman before. November 19, 2009 to be exact.

On the plus side, they lost the account and then got it back. So there's that.

Bonus

If I were Brutus, I would be taking a look at my employment contract. Unless the year-end bonuses are specifically tied to performance, Brutus should be entitled to one. Even if they are performance based, Brutus should've been informed that he wasn't going to get a bonus before they were handed out.

This is a jerkass bold move, openly giving bonuses to everybody but one employee. But then again, Veeblefester is a jerkass bold man.

Salt for the Salty

😑 Why is she questioning the cashews? It's not like Brutus got her coal. He got Gladys some candy which we all know she loves and his mother-in-law some cashews which are a perfectly acceptable Christmas gift. Not that this means Brutus still wouldn't have said "nuts for the nut" but I don't understand why she seems confused by the cashews.

How Could Pop Know That About Santa? Unless...*gasp!*

You should also put out a little Bailey's with the cookies and coffee. *nudge, nudge, wink, wink, Say no more, say no more*

Why does Brutus need coffee so late at night? Is he going to stay up and put stuff together? That's crap. Just wait until the morning.

That fireplace looks fake.

Arjon #4

“Man is basically good,” Dr. Coot began. “But history has shown us that man will throw those who we love and care about off a cliff if it benefits us.”

“I don’t believe that,” Arjon pshawed. “Sure there are a few bad apples but for the most part, man is good.”

“A few bad apples spoil the bunch.”

Arjon pshawed again. “As you said, man is basically good.”

“You are too trusting of everybody,” Dr. Coot said.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“You can’t trust everybody blindly. That is a recipe for betrayal.”

“Why can’t I trust people until they hurt me?”

“Because it may be too late,” Dr. Coot replied ominously. “Let me explain.”




“I’m gonna do the Pad Challenge someday,” Caleb said.

“You say that every time you’re here. Which is a lot because we eat here, like, every day,” Brittany said. “Quit talking about and just do it.”

“It’s a five pound hamburger. Easier said than done,” Caleb scoffed.

“It’s not that bad. I did it,” Brittany revealed.

“What? You? You took the Pad Challenge?”

“No. I completed the Pad Challenge. And I could do it again.”

“We haven’t ordered. Do it right now,” Caleb said.

“Do what right now?” Randy asked, sitting down at their booth.

“Brittany says she could do the Pad Challenge.”

“Oh, I believe it. She’s got some meat on her. Look at those legs. And that little hint of paunch,” Randy pointed out.

“I’ll have you know, guys love my paunch,” Brittany huffed.

“Oh, I bet,” Randy winked and clicked his tongue.




“Humans being terrible is more than just pointing and saying ‘Hey, look at Hitler over there.’ You don’t have to look at dictators to see how awful human can be. Harvey Weinstein, Bill Cosby, Sheriff Joe Arpaio. Tommy Dursey, Jack Wahball, Bill Doughty.”

“Who are those last three?”

“Kids from the street I grew up on. I would play keep-away with them using a water balloon and somehow always ended up soaked in urine.”

“Those were all men. Don’t women do anything bad?”

“Certainly. The difference is if a woman does something bad, men declare her ‘hysterical’, deem her insane, and burn her at the stake. One evil woman you may have heard of is Elizabeth Bathory who slept with and killed young girls for their blood in an effort to stay young.”

“See? That’s the problem with humans, you don’t look at the majority of the people, you look at the minority and base your assumptions on the outliers,” Arjon said. “What’s interesting is that white men seem to get a pass.”

“Whoa, whoa!” Dr. Coot exclaimed, holding his hand out. “White men are not on trial here.”

“They’re barely on trial anywhere.”

“Have any Bananas committed atrocities?” Dr. Coot asked.

“Generations ago, there was one, Maroy, who invited colonizers to our village. They slaughtered dozens and began a war. After about four years, the colonizers quit sending people to fight because they realized that we have no resources. While the atrocities were committed by colonizers--white men, just so you know--Maroy was captured, tried, and convicted for attempted genocide. Note that even though white men did those horrible things to my ancestors, I don’t blame all white men for it. I don’t blame Caleb or Randy or even you despite you looking and sounding exactly like the colonizers.”

Dr. Coot stopped writing and stared at Arjon.




Brittany was halfway through the hamburger, ketchup was dripping from her mouth with each bite. She was noticeably sweating and breathing heavily.

“You can stop, Brittany. You’re killing yourself,” Randy proclaimed.

“This is a $30 burger. I can’t afford that. I have to finish it,” she said, slightly gurgling. She continued eating, a small crowd had gathered around her, cheering her on.

“I’m confused why this is the most exciting thing I’ve seen in a long time,” Randy said.

“I’m confused why I’m so turned on right now,” Caleb revealed.




“How has your time here been going?” Dr. Coot asked, changing the subject.

“It’s good. I have four good friends and Brittany used me to help keep her ex-boyfriend away,” Arjon answered.

“Do you think you’re going to stay? Are you going to try and become a citizen?”

“I’ll stay as long as I’m in school. I don’t know about citizenship.”

“If you are interested in citizenship, we can help you with that.”

“Maybe. While I’m having a good time here, I am homesick. I do plan on going back to my village during the summer,” Arjon revealed.

Dr. Coot nodded. “Thank you for coming in today. I’ll see you next week.”

Arjon got to the Pad and saw a crowd around Brittany, Caleb, and Randy. She was down to the last couple of bites. She was slumped in her chair. Her pants were undone and she had unbuttoned her shirt. “Go Brittany,” Arjon cheered, following what everyone else was doing.

Brittany saw his face, grabbed the burger and held it up in ceremony. She took a big bite, slowly chewed, and swallowed. She then put the last bite in her mouth, slowly chewed, and swallowed. The whole crowd cheered. Brittany stayed seated but raised her arms.

The cheering died down and soon the crowd dispersed. Arjon sat down next to Brittany. “I missed a lot while I was with Dr. Coot,” Arjon said.

“They...dared me,” she panted and halfheartedly pointed at Caleb and Randy. “Can’t afford…$30 hamburger.”

“I’m sorry I missed most of it. At least I got to see the grand finale,” Arjon said.

Brittany sunk more into the booth and farted, loud and long. When done, Brittany placed her hand on her stomach and smiled. “Oh, yeah,” she moaned.

“Why am I even more turned on now?” Caleb leaned over and quietly asked Randy.

Did She Not Taste It?

Back in April, I had the honor to be present and help out with burial excavation. I just happened to get in contact with the right person at the right time and was very excited. I was there with the property owner, a representative from the Kansas State Historical Society, a former Kansas Bureau of Investigation officer from Wichita State, and anthropology students from Washburn University working on forensic field work. The purpose of the excavation was to give the students some hands-on experience, do an exam on the remains, if possible, and reinter the remains with the family in the nearby cemetery. We all went into this knowing the probability for actually finding anything was next to none. But was excited nonetheless mainly for spending an entire day on the property and watching the students work.

The morning was filled with them just getting the area ready to be dug. Basically, it was things that typically get cut out of, or are part of a quick-paced montage, in episodes of Bones or the CSIs. It was still interesting to watch and a lot of hard work that has to be as precise as possible. A lot of work went into preparing the small grave site for excavation. After they got the dig site set up, we broke for lunch at a neighbor's house where we talked about the history of the area. We then drove to the cemetery to look at the family plot and where the remains, if any, would be reinterred. After the cemetery, we were back at the dig site and work began.

I wandered around the property and talked with the property owner for most of the afternoon, occasionally watching the students work while trying to stay out of their way. Work at the dig site started at about 1 and lasted until a little after 5 or so. They dug about a foot down in a space about a foot and a half where a gravestone had rested. They hadn't found anything dating back as far as the dates on the stone. Heavy machinery was brought out and the search widened slightly. We dug to the top of a limestone layer. Still, nothing dating back to the date of the gravestone was found. The space they had dug was about three feet wide and two feet deep.

Despite nothing of note being found, it was still an educational experience for all involved. It was, by far, my favorite thing about 2018 and I'm hoping 2019 has similar experiences.

A view of the hole dug from inside the nearby home.

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

Gladys, they already have a coffee flavor that captures the essence of the holidays. It's called peppermint. Right after Thanksgiving, coffee shops toss out their pumpkin spice to make room for peppermint. It's like drinking a hot liquid candy cane.