Then start clicking…

Beware the Night Poodles!

I love it when a flan comes together.

The jelly mix has turned evil!

The virus was victorious once again.

The swallows have returned! And this time they’ve got guns!

‘Throw salt in their eyes! THEIR EYES!’ I screamed. That’s when the battle turned.

How to tell if your lemon is haunted

I’m collecting for the Fire Wizards With No Self-Control Benefit Fund.

“I had this rocket sled left over from a Siberian mission last year.” “Was that when you had to punch the itinerant Russians?” “Yes, I told them in no uncertain terms that a nuclear warhead is not a toy.”

I want to challenge a rainbow to a duel… and lose.

“So the giant bear is…” “Evil.” “And the giant dwarf is…” “An oxymoron.”

It looks like a dump truck barfed on Charlie Brown’s Christmas Tree.

The legendary Meatball Brigades storm Nazi Germany, defeating Hitler.

Look out for that wine rack… and the piranha tank!

It’s OK if he kills himself, but I’m not allowed to help?

The best part of coffee is the sugar and the caramel and the whipped cream and the bacon bits.

A salami is created at a random point somewhere in the multiverse.

Import Jared Levine from Manhattan 3, circa 1982… Now import three dozen Scooby Doo metal lunchboxes about a hundred feet directly above him.
This one was actually last week, but it seemed like the opening shot in the current absurdist war…

“I’d like to introduce you to an indistructable friend of mine.” “We’ll see about that!” … “You can hug him too.” “Oh! he’s so coldly destructive!”

“I’m gonna get mugged by a nine-foot pterydactyl if I don’t watch my back.” “Nah, he’d hafta drink like four bottles of vermouth before Gary’d show up.”

Faye would have beat me to death with Hannelore, who’d have gone rigid with catatonic horror.

“And what are the people of your world?” “Tofu.”

The quantum anomaly swallowed up my vintage John Deere, triggering certain repurcussions in remote arms of the galaxy… Pap is considering a hip replacement, but is insisting on a test drive… and Madeleine, my jersey heffer, is working on her French verb forms at the Sorbonne.

“No tractor today.” “Tractor tomorrow?” “Maybe if you eat beans for dinner.” “I like tractor… no beans.” “There is no more food but beans because of so many tractors.”

Why can’t I get the hooker to kill all the space invaders?

“There’s a conehead in my office… I’m a dead man.” “Well, get him in here! We need a fifth for Celebrity Jeopardy on Xbox.”

Can I phone a consonant?

Blame the stuffed animal.

Now you’re telling me one inanimate object killed another inanimate object for its money?

You look like a Borg phone operator.

Sloth, Anger, Pride, Envy and a fat dude eatin’ slugs.

The squirrel swarm is like a tsunami.

When the snake falls in love with the spaghetti, it’s time to buy a new hat. You look more flustered than a barefoot squirrel at a tire store.

I’m happier than a wooden spoon at a spelling bee.

“I’m all over that like a caterpillar on my Sunday Pants.” “Does that mean yes?” “Do birds eat beans to fly faster?”

Were you scared shirtless?

My bloodstream is full of slapstick.

Holy $#!†! It’s Crazy O’Clock!

And one that was not expressed in words, but it would be truly ironic if this week of non-sequiturity were not to include one example from Non-Sequitur:

The following is intended as an affectionate tribute to a comic strip I liked, and not as an exercise in mass copyright enfringement, especially considering that, with the strip’s official website taken down, there is not much else out there about this imaginative story about an imaginative storyteller.

Franklin, we barely knew thee. Which is not all that surprising for a comic character with almost as little commitment to the truth as President Bush. Or one who un-aged several decades in a last-ditch effort to build an audience. Or one who took a familiar comedic premise, the “teller of tall tales”, and tried to take it in several different directions at once. But that was the most endearing thing about Franklin Fibbs: he was quite unpredictable.

One day he would tell a totally fantabulously impossible tale, with profuse visual punning…

the next day telling a ‘normal’ story that takes a bizarre turn…

Many of his tales showed him somewhat less than heroic…

He was capable of making some rather unique cultural references…

…as well as some very silly old jokes…

In the earliest strips, Fibbs had a sort of ‘old geezer’ vibe…

But his artists wisely abandoned it as they explored all the various directions the strip could go, and Franklin (and his wife Paloma) both became more ‘age-indistinct’.

Paloma sometimes served as Franklin’s debunker, but just as often was a semi-receptive audience for his yarn-weaving.

Still either the syndicator (King Features) or the newspapers pigeonholed Franklin Fibbs as an “old geezer” comic (and aren’t there more than enough of those?), so this spring, he underwent a somewhat bizarre ‘makeover’…






So, “Little Fibbs” began his short but eventful run. Of course, with a talking cat as a straight ‘man’ (and without any explanation why the cat can talk, unlike Sheldon), it begins requiring a substantial suspension of disbelief, and the following strip a week later, while attemptung to “clear things up”, really didn’t.

“Little Fibbs” had its moments; after all, Hollis Brown and Wes Hargis, the talented duo behind the first year-and-a-half were still doing the strip. Some made good use of the “Fibbs as a kid” motif…


Others could have just as well been done with Old Franklin…

But two weeks ago, Fibbs did a Sunday strip that was pointedly political…

(and in the process suggested that there might have been other opinionated chapters in the Fibbs saga, but were most likely vetoed by the same syndicate that gives Mallard Fillmore free reign to spout its frequently fact-free opinions)

Then the next day, the news was broken in the strip…

Having the reduced the ‘fourth wall’ to a pile of rubble, Little Fibbs tried to abandon the sinking strip…

Keeping a sense of humor to the bitter end, the creators turned it upon themselves…

(…although the reference to ‘two weeks’ occurring one week after the first announcement does suggest that there were some strips in the series that didn’t get past the syndicate’s editors…)

But especially about the ill-fated age change…

And now, the final frames of Franklin Fibbs (hot off the Daily Ink Website)…

Kind of underwhelming, but I’m sure they have a great story behind it.