Home of Elvis and the ancient (band) geeks…Holiday greetings snarkers! It’s TFHackett, guest authoring for guest author SoSF David O.
A Sun session that lasted til sunrise, followed up with a night of fights and gunplay, finally catches up with the gang. Dinkle’s relieved to find the BM’s are nestled all snug in the van, ready for the 700-mile jaunt back to Westview. Sadly, fatigue will soon overtake Harry Dinkle as well; he’ll nod off behind the wheel somewhere along I-40 North, and all will be killed in the crash and subsequent explosion of Carl’s leaky oxygen tank. Thank you, Santa!
SosfDavidO here, and after a long night recording, our gang packs it up and watches the… sunrise? Is that what that’s supposed to be in today’s strip?! They’re staring at it like it’s the mushroom cloud of an atom bomb. Don’t step off the sidewalk, because what should be a solid street below the curb looks more like a gateway to another dimension. Meanwhile, the 2001 Monolith looms sinisterly ahead.
What a weird daily.
SosfDavidO here, and Tombat didn’t try very hard with In today’s strip so I’m not overly motivated myself. This story arc feels like it’s been going on since the Clinton administration. There’s no mention of the wackiness of a blind music producer helping a deaf band director make an album but I assume the guy with the oxygen tube probably has no sense of smell to boot.
SosfDavidO here, and whoa, we’re still in Memphis, likely for the rest of the week as In today’s strip shows the recording session get underway.
My only question is, is all of this going to become meta and give birth to an actual music video or album, like Luann did?*
*I take no responsibility for the horrible earworm that is Luann’s “Hey Boy”.
SosfDavidO here, and Tombat is milking this recording session for the entire week at least as it bleeds into the usually stand-alone Sunday strip. In today’s strip we at least made it to the inside of the studio, where a ham-fisted bit of dialog informs us that the gentleman wearing his sunglasses at night is blind. Just so no one forgets, he even has his disability front and center in his name! We don’t go around calling Becky “Ol’ Miss One-Arm” do we? or refer to Mr. Dinkle as Mr. DeafDinkle?
In any case, I’m going to pretend Mr. Washington is facepalming and not covering his eyes because that would make no sense at all, unless he’s faking blindness like Harry’s faking deafness.
Tryin’ to make some front page, nursing home community weekly circular news.
SosfdavidO here! And from the looks of today’s strip, the musicians are going to have a hard time keeping awake, much less making that One Magical Album they’re hoping for.
May I suggest a cover of The Beatles’s “I’m Only Sleeping” ?
SosfdavidO here, and I can’t resist a bad duck pun anymore than Tombat could apparently resist not sharing the Wes Anderson-esque tradition that the actual Peabody Hotel still carries on. Why? Because ducks are droll and shit less than geese.
So if you’re looking at today’s strip and wonder if you’ve accidentally stumbled into a Mark Trail comic instead, rest assured, it’s just Tombat and his artist friend trying their hand at whimsy. Far be it from this sentimental old coot to admit it’s pretty charming, all told.