Author: TFHackett

Yes We Can(vass)

Here we see the entire known Westview High School faculty, including their newest member, Art Teacher. They’re assembled outside Moore Manor to encourage their fellow Westviewvians to show support for school funding (another favorite cause of TB’s). If “Art” could read his own dialogue balloon, he’d realize that the kind of “canvass” they’re involved is the “two-s” kind. Ha! Ha! Jim, who considers himself a real teacher, can barely hide his disdain for this bald Bohemian, while Bull sees a threat to his role as mangler of words and their meanings.

Oktobertext

A tip o’ the SoSF leopardskin pillbox hat to the estimable DavidOrth
for once again taking over the blogging reins this past week!

Quality time spent with Dad sure isn’t what it used to be. These days poor Dad’s presence is barely acknowledged by his self-absorbed, distractable child. What’s changed? Why, it’s because of those newfangled “cell phones”! This strip’s anti-technology drumbeat is starting to give me a migraine. Are there any 21st century contrivances that aren’t making life in Westview worse instead of better?

When Harry Met My Fist

I’m far from Miss Manners here but it’s gotta be in poor form to unload your woe-is-me tale on someone that’s actually losing something, including possibly his finances, house, marriage, kid’s college fund, who knows what else.  It’s like telling your neighbor that you’re sorry that huge oak tree fell on his house; it was a nice tree for birds to hang out on and sing.

And with that uninspired observation, I turn the rest of the week’s snarking back to the master, TFHackett! Thanks for the opportunity to try and dredge some chuckles out of this bleak week!

Unlike

It was like Facebook but in the real world?  Has Tom B ever been to Facebook? Unless Crazy’s idea of chatting up the staff or other customers included begging them to join his mafia or showing random strangers pictures of his neice, I doubt it was much like Facebook.

I wonder if the real Village Booksmith sells DVDs or CDs, or just old back issues of Readers’s Digest.  Either way, getting accosted by my weird mailman at a bookstore would be enough to drive me away, or go nuclear on his butt.

Crazy Harry: “So what book did ya get?”

Me: “The joys of animal sex! I’ve always heard about it and was kind of curious. Lots of horse stuff in it.  I’m more of a marsupial man myself but kangaroos are hard to come by in Ohio…”