False Contractions

Today's post is based on actual events.

Being Punk Rock Begins With the Hair

I'd like to thank all the drivers from Milk Car-toons for agreeing to drive their cars in today's comic.

This said, the guy in the black sedan was pretty aggressive, and the dark blue SUV had absolutely no business being in the fast lane.

Not So Much a Closing as a Shutting Down

And now I just sit and wait for the fat product-placement checks from Apple to roll in.  Oh, yeah, baby.

Turn of the Handle

It's rhino horn. 

Yes, I know you didn't need me to tell you.  You're very smart.

Another Reason I Won't Wear Fur

Something else that occurred to me about facial hair:  if Hitler had worn his mustache an inch lower, nobody in today's world would ever grow a soul patch.

Tanking, Hard.

I'm also working on a name for that little arrow next to the pump symbol on the dashboard fuel gauge that tells you which side of the car your gas cap is on.

I'm toying with cap-o-where-a.

Well Above Par

We're working on the wiseass version of Trivial Pursuit where you actually get pieces of the pie for answers like this.  Also for making infantile jokes out of the questions.

Faux-fanity

Three key points here:

1) Yes, bingletooders is one word.

2) And yes also “Snozz” is correctly spelled.  I checked.  Sheesh.

3) "-tooders," "poople" and "doo-doo" suggest a scatological theme to my wife’s faux-fanity.  Several lexicographers at the OED  have promising monographs under review on this subject.

(for more of my wife's faux-fanity, please see Cursery Observations)

No Publicity is Bad Publicity, But Some Publicity is Evil Publicity

I worry that if we're ever in an accident, those seatbelts will snap our bodies like sticks.  

Because, you know, our bodies are sticks.

Ear Words

For those who are wondering what my wife is up to in this comic, I can tell you she's either

A) chopping slices of sausage for jambalaya, or 

B) basting a pile of poker chips