Today’s comic deals with a morning after event most of us have experienced. Even though I have no sense of smell what-so-ever (birth defect), that morning after fart will rise the dead. What’s your “favorite” fart? Cheez-Its? Chilli? Pizza/beer? America wants to know because we have nothin’ else to do with gas being so expensive.
My car was my home for many a weekend in 1977, and I came “this” close to buying a 1969 Caprice on eBay the other day… the only thing that stopped me was paying for it! 🙂
Bud’s final phrase still ticks me off as I know it’s awkward as hell, but seems to be the best I can do at the moment… one of those things that may change someday…
*******************************
It’s been a while since I late checked your work. Kinda had flashbacks myself. In late 2008 I just got the news I had late-stage cancer and was gearing up for a fight. Took me this long to be sure I can say I’m alive now and if the reaper is interested he’ll have to set up some sort of installment plan.
So I’m reading through all your work from the start again. It made me smile the first time around and it feels like the world’s changed so much while I was in limbo for almost a decade it’s comforting to see a few things are still there. Improved even! My dad owned a ’73 Caprice all the way into the early 2000s. He bought it used, the diesel model, because he got a job offer on the other end of the country that paid practically double what he was making. After about a hundred miles, the engine damn near fell out the bottom. Mom saw his temper for the first time; you think that would’ve been enough warning, but she was stubborn too. She was also from a family of gearheads, and her brother took the car in ASAP because we were on a tight schedule. The easiest and quickest solution was to swap engines. But the only engine he had was a Chevy 350 Shortblock he’d picked up cheap because the guy who’d sold it to him had bored out the cylinders for fun but never got around to installing custom piston-heads.
Powder blue, weighed near a ton, pretty much the epitome of the family station wagon, and it switched into second gear somewhere around 40 MPH. Never heard anything roar like outside a racetrack.
First, congrats on beating cancer. Not many can say that. So YES!
I’m glad the comic is still here. I’ve come a LONG way since 2008 and it’s been one helluva ride. I’m glad you’re along for the ride! Again. 🙂
popcorn
Luckily, my inability to smell anything means I just think farts are fun sounding.