Tag Archives: Carl

by | November 26, 2021 · 10:30 pm

The Feast Of Maximum Occupancy

Link To This One

“Hi, Mom! Listen, we’ll be by to pick you up at around eleven. We made the stuffing you like and we picked up a few pies and…what’s that? Harry Dinkle? Who the f*ck is Harry Dinkle? But…but…your grandkids are looking forward to…uh huh, uh huh, yeah, uh, OK, I guess, but this is certainly unexpected and odd and…what? Why would WE eat Thanksgiving dinner at a band director’s house? Have you been taking your medicine?”

It’s pretty funny how Halle Dinkle re-appeared and was immediately pushed into the background by every single person Dinkle knows, plus quite a few he doesn’t. I count TWENTY-NINE people, which seems like WAY too many folks to cram into Dinkle’s cheap clapboard house for anything, let alone dinner. But hey, at least BatYam didn’t have to exert himself too much by, you know, writing a story or anything like that.

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by | November 16, 2021 · 10:30 pm

61*

Link To Today’s Strip

Sixty-one words (if Mary Jane is two words) and a shit-ton of ellipsis(s)…that’s not a word balloon, it’s a word billboard. At least all the characters are easily identifiable by name now. Check out the look on Morton’s face, he’s eyeing up those church ladies like he’s standing at the supermarket deli counter. That Ricca seems somewhat interested, at least. She also appears to be a solid forty years younger than the rest of the choir, which leads me to believe there’s some sort of demented back story there, but as it involves that other comic strip of his, I don’t care.

So Carl plays the trumpet while on oxygen? Seems counterproductive to me, but then again he really doesn’t have a lot to lose at this point, as he’s already clearly bottomed out.

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by | December 15, 2017 · 11:59 pm

Did I Forget to Mention, Forget to Mention Memphis?

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!

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by | December 13, 2017 · 12:10 am

Sunrise, Sunset?

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.

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by | December 12, 2017 · 1:14 am

We Five

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.

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