Tag Archives: robin’s egg blue cars

His House Was A Museum, When Boy Lisa Came To See-Um

Link To Today’s

SIGH. It’s still going. Jessica, a born and bred Westviewian, doesn’t understand nerdy collectors? Puh-LEEZE! Not buying that, even for a second. Her husband owns a Flash treadmill, for crying out loud. This is just plain lazy writing, and BatYam should be ashamed of himself. If he had any capacity for that, I mean.

Another robin’s egg blue car. I’m assuming that a container ship full of knock-off Estonian cars washed up on the Ohio shores back in 2002 or so, and everyone grabbed one. And that car would NEVER pass New Jersey’s stringent auto emissions standards, that’s for sure. I mean, no one would notice or even care, but you’d never get a clean inspection sticker driving around in that thing.

So where in God’s name could this arc possibly be going from here? Will Boy Lisa find some local weirdo who repairs cracked coffee mugs, thus preserving John Darling’s (Jessica’s father) legacy forevermore? Will he use the gun to wrest control of Atomik Komix away from the geriatrics? I don’t know, but I do know it’ll be stupid in ways that none of us are capable of accurately forecasting, and that is a 100% certainty.

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( ••) ( ••)>⌐■-■ (⌐■_■)

But seriously… be sure to read today’s strip before David Caruso‘s lawyer does.

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Scataract

Humor is how I deal with tragedy“. I bet Batiuk has used that line a lot at book signings and when newspapers inexplicably interview him. And I’m sure the response he gets more often than not is “Humor? What humor?”.
I really don’t get what “tragedy” Funky is referring to here. The tragedy of successfully having a routine surgery that lots of people get? The tragedy of having to age when you’d rather stay ten in your parents’ attic reading comic books forever?
Oh, and Funky’s joke isn’t funny and really doesn’t work. It doesn’t really sound at all like what it’s supposed to, I don’t think. It’s a pity it’s one of the last things that poor guy pushing the wheelchair is ever going to hear, since he’s clearly about to drop dead.

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Park Your Carcass(es)

I’m pretty sure a sales fundraiser in which you wind up with a garage full of unsold merch is kind of a bust, no? What exactly is Classic Dinkle’s plan here in panel 1? Even if a polar vortex were to descend on Westview tonight, and linger through Christmas and New Year’s, no poultry (especially organic) would still remain edible. Those “Sam ‘n’ Ella’s” turkeys would soon be living up to their name. If “next year” means “next Thanksgiving,” then the premise becomes even more absurd.

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