Playing the piper

Sorry for not posting a cartoon yesterday morning. I was busy celebrating Play Music On The Porch Day with some friends. I do not have the skills that young Tom here has, as I did not save any kittens from a well or conjure up nursery rhyme-themed plants in the garden, but I think we all had fun.

Perhaps he’s gone off the deep end

While trying to find out where the phrase “lost your marbles” came from, I found this article on the Oxford Dictionaries blog that ties together lumber, furniture, Virginia Woolf and Nicholson Baker. There are some astounding leaps in the progression of the idiom in the theory being proposed, so astounding that they remind me of the origin of “raspberry” (in lieu of “Bronx Cheer”). So that’s making me figure that the theory must be correct. Slang never makes sense.

Why was I looking up “lost your marbles”? Well…

Published in: on August 22, 2018 at 7:44 pm  Leave a Comment  
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There are a lot of uncles somewhere

This cartoon was pretty cute but I still feel like I need to fill my house with boric acid. Go make a hill someplace and leave me alone, guys.

Published in: on August 18, 2018 at 7:53 am  Leave a Comment  
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Benny and I decided to go snorkeling on Catalina Island this weekend. On the ferry over here, there was a magazine that listed all the fun things to do on the island. It suggested that seniors might appreciate getting some salt water taffy. Why this was an activity for seniors, we were not sure.

We’re probably going to stick with snorkeling. I wonder if we’re going to see any hairy octopus.

Etiquette & superstition: fans of death

I had to double-check that I hadn’t covered fans before. Actually it’s two topics, at the very least, so today I’m going to narrow it down to fans near the dead.

ETIQUETTE: At one point in time, folding hand fans were a necessity for a lady, not just for making subtle/not-so-subtle non-verbal signals to another party, but for keeping one’s self from fainting in times of distress and exertion (see: corsets). During mourning, initially one was to keep the fan black, white or gray, and free from feathers and mirrors and such, but of course the “sexy widow” thing took over as it always seems to do and before you know it, mourning fans had lace and fancy designs just like any other fashionable fan. Fan it, lady. Find a new husband with that fancy fan. Per Purdue University, a mourning fan from 1751 featured this quote:

“Here lies Fred, who was alive and is dead; Had it been his father, I had much rather; Had it been his brother, still better than another; Had it been his sister, no one would have missed her; Had it been the whole generation, Still better for the nation; But since ‘tis only Fred, who was alive and is dead, There’s no more to be said.”

You can find some other charming fans collected by the Tippecanoe County Historical Association at the Purdue University website.

SUPERSTITION: Fan death. FAN DEATH. If you’re in Korea, you will kill everybody inside a room if you run an electric fan in there without cracking open a window. At the very least it will cause nausea or facial paralysis. But then you wouldn’t call it FAN DEATH.

The gift of Gabby

I really liked Gabby the Goat when I was a kid (whoops), but I never thought until now how odd it was that he was such a hothead. Sure, goats scream a lot and kick and head butt small children, but they always do it with a peaceful expression. Gabby, what’s the problem?


No, I didn’t post a cartoon this weekend. Benny and I had an unexpectedly busy weekend starting Friday night. I’m still a little grumpy about the whole incident so I don’t want to go into a lot of detail, but it basically started with a strange kitten finding its way into our house, then




(photo not available)

So yeah, we found a kitten and lost her again before we could find her owner or whatever. All this after I had been feeding a vacationing friend’s cat who runs away from me whenever I show up to feed her. Cats hate me now.

Forget cats. I’m only making friends with delinquent monkeys from now on.

I guess I shouldn’t make the assumption that this monkey is a delinquent. Maybe he’s a hardworking monkey who was driven to desperation by circumstances beyond his control.

Hang out with me, monkey. If you don’t run away from me, I promise not to call the authorities about the bicycle.


Soleil noon fry

This cartoon is a little long, but maybe that’s a good thing. Instead of heading outside in today’s predicted inferno, you can hunker down to watch it in front of a fan and a bowl of ice cubes.


Published in: on July 21, 2018 at 7:15 am  Leave a Comment  
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Curb appeal

Directly across the street from this

I noticed this:

Guys, if you lose a dog, you might want to check around here. It seems to be some sort of canine vortex or something. Be sure to watch your step.

Bully beef

He seemed very brave at first, but after watching this cartoon in its entirety I’m not so sure of the purity of John the Bull’s call to sacrifice. Put your money where your mouth is, John.

Then again, I’m not so sure that John is even bovine. At the beginning he seems to have normal cloven hooves, but at the end, doesn’t he appear to have three fingers on each hand-hoof? Is he some sort of deep cover odd-toed ungulate psyops assassin? You tell me.

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