CBH has too much time – Son of Stuck Funky

Uselesses

Skeletal, pallid Wally Winkerbean came from the airport, bearing a face of woe on which a smirk and a frown lay crossed. A green dressuniform, hatless, was hung stiffly upon him on the mild afternoon air. He held the door ajar and intoned:

—Introibo ad altare Lisa.

Becky Blackburn Winkerbean Howard, displeased and sleepy, leaned her body on the seat of the parkbench and looked coldly at the shaking gurgling face that regarded her, equine in its length, and at the light closecropped hair, grained and hued like pale oak.

The Kat-El Reflections

Good afternoon, or rather good evening, (I realize as I write this that I am not as omniscient as I would like, and can’t know what time of day you all will be able to read this,) Your friendly, neighborhood, CBH is here and I’m reporting in with the local Farm Progress Report.

While I tend to keep my roadmap in my glove box (or rather my Google Maps on my smartphone closed,) I must admit that the last week has seen me sitting at a dead end, or rather a crossroads.

Your Mileage May Vary

I had to make a decision on my last DCH John Howard post. Because there were two rabbit holes presented, and I knew I could only tumble down one that day. So we fell down the Skip Townes hole and got to read some ancient Funky Winkerbean strips that were actually funny.

Today, instead of continuing the story of Mooch Myers Swindles an Old Lady, I’d like to take the second option, and tumble down another hole. The one presented to me by this strip.

Moochy boy compares Lillian McKenzie’s boxes of a couple thousand yellowed Timely issues flopping around in her hot Ohio attic to The Edward Church Collection.

Cranking It Up!

CBH at the helm for this one. And FIRST OF ALL.

We’ve reached the maximum busy season for farm work here in CBHville. Where we are trying to simultaneously finish planting beans, chop rye hay, spray weeds, apply fertilizer, care for cows, AND (most daunting of all) clean my parent’s basement for my sister’s family to arrive for Memorial Day.

I was feeling overwhelmed.

Dives within Dives

(You see that up there? That’s what happens when you make parody strips on Nyquil, kids. Don’t mix Phenylephrine and Photoshop.)