Sorry I haven’t been able to keep up with the BFW Quickies while I’m on this Mid-Atlantic trip. Packing, unpacking, and cursing at the dumb, bossy lady who lives inside of my GPS has seriously hampered my production schedule.
But with the help of a six-year-old fan of Star Wars: The Clone Wars, I was able to whip this up on Friday:
I would’ve added a fart cloud enveloping Endor and gassing the Ewoks to death, but everyone knows Han farted first.
The internet is hard to come by where I’m at in Pennsylvania, so here’s today’s late update. I’ll post more when I get back to Philly and Baltimore.
Next Week: 25 Cent Book Bin
Nobody listens to Krugman. He needs to be appointed the Pope of the Treasury if we’re ever going to get out of this economic shit-pickle. These ideas are goofs, but the first stimulus only slowed down the freefall. (Think of it as giving Hammer Pants to a dude who fell out of a plane instead of a parachute.)
The same folks who claim government spending doesn’t create jobs are the same ones who bitch and moan when a military base is threatened with closure. For the Republicans and Blue Dogs who stifled the first stimulus, spending only counts when it’s on bailouts or bombs.
Speaking of the super-shitty economy, did you know about the Big Fat Whale Holiday Bargain?
Even though I’m in Philly and heading to other parts of the Mid-Atlantic for the next month, I brought a ton of books with me and I’m mailing out orders as soon as they come in. This offer will shit the bed before the new year, so order now to guarantee delivery by the holidays.
Next Week: Even More Recession Recipes
It must be fake movie week here in alt-weekly comic land, because Ruben Bolling did one called Peek-A-Boo.
I remember going to the Blockbuster (née Endless Video) in the late eighties and being fascinated by the covers for what seemed like an entire aisle of screwball sex comedies. I used elements from a lot of them, but Meatballs was my main inspiration:
As for this year’s Oscar season, I’m only interested in The Road and A Serious Man by the Coen brothers, which I still need to see.
It’s not even Thanksgiving, but the Big Fat Whale Holiday Bargain is already going on. I’ll post more about it next week. Right now I’m scrambling to get ready for a month-long sojourn to the Mid Atlantic.
Next Week: Stimulus II
Obviously this isn’t true. Plenty of men would hit on the flu virus if it had big tits and a tramp stamp of its own. And I bet it would look a lot like Tila Tequila.
Also, cough into your elbows, you sick fucks! I don’t want your snot aerosols infecting me.
If you don’t dick around on the web, this probably won’t make much sense to you. But if you’re not dicking around online, there’s no way you’d be reading my blog. So I’m gonna call you out as a dirty liar.
I did something similar in January, and it’s surprising how most of these new ones weren’t on my radar back then, except for steampunk and email scams, both of which are things I’ve had to quickly delete or scroll past every goddamn day since I first hooked up my Tandy to the outside world.
Bozadee Bopping could be the new Keyboard Cat, or maybe something like a rimshot to punctuate a sentence where a “Shut the Fuck Up” meaning was conveyed. For reference:
He starts Bozadee-Bopping at 3:27
Lastly, a quick reminder about the three ways you can support the strip: Buy stuff, follow it on Twitter and Facebook, and smite my enemies in my honor.
Next Week: Oscar Season
Aw, jeez Maine. I thought you were cool. Then you went and turned Portland into Maine’s Austin. Was your vote a result of Jumping Frenchmen of Maine Syndrome and the sudden stimuli of out-of-state funded political ads?
Rhode Island is on notice too. Gay marriage still isn’t allowed there.
Connecticut has gay marriage, but it also has Lieberman, not to mention half the state roots for the motherfuckin’ Yankees. (Connecticut Mets fans: We cool.) So I can’t in good conscience grant it admission into New New England.
For this week’s BFW Quickie, I was going to draw a quick sketch of Lieberman as a hemorrhoid on the sphincter of congress (Its reformhole, if you will.), then I saw Jen’s depiction of him as an intestinal blockage. A couple hours after that, I read David Rees’ hilarious 10 Lieberman jokes, and when I woke up this morning, I read Tom Tomorrow’s take on the Lieber-douche. I could not bear to look at that human-shit-pig’s infinite crevasses any longer and scrapped my plans.
I’ll try to come up with something else by tomorrow afternoon. I’m under a self-imposed fart joke moratorium, so that might be difficult.
