I happened upon this years and years ago when I was working 3rd shift at a hotel. Those were horrible days. Long, lonely hours. Nothing to do except clean jism off the occasional headboard. Radioactive lights sucking the life from you just so you could donate plasma for 20 bucks as soon as your shift was over so you could buy that bottle of gin to drink while watching MASH on the Hallmark channel.
And reading everything in the morning paper... promptly delivered at 5 am by the creepy guy who was probably too Christian to be gay -- except on the weekends when it was delivered by the guy who definitely played high school football but needed to wear a backbrace when he delivered papers. Sometimes he would bring his son. Personally, I would have disowned my father if I had to get up at ass a.m. to deliver papers.
Speaking of fathers, mine wrote a cryptic message in a birthday card this week:
Jeff Always know where your mousetraps are Dad. And that was it.
But this particular Mark Trail episode was the first I had ever actually read. It never occurred to me that... who am I kidding? This is the most boring attempt at a lameass Captain Planet anyone's ever seen. Hear that? Lameass Captain Planet. Err... Lameass Captain Planet. Either way, it's entertainment equivalent of taking a shit with your middle finger up your ass while eating beef jerky.
Still, this one comic captivated me. It had no beginning and no end. Just a woman talking about a wounded animal, a chick talking about her broken pipes (notice the chair in the background -- helps set the scene), then some dude keeping the soft side of his pimphand strong. What more can possibly be said in three frames?
To you Jack Elrod. Keep doing whatever the fuck it is you're doing.
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