Grumpy old man. Email at email@example.com
The old-timers here in Texas call it buzzard luck: Cain’t kill nothin’, cain’t find nothin’ dead.
You’re wasting your time. The lefties still think Al Gore won in 2000.
Freddy and his wife didn’t appreciate it last time when Andy showed up wearing his funereal suit and bearing a dozen black roses.
There is a “dead cert” in every race…the bloody bookies!
The race was at Ascot, which is run in a clockwise direction. “Sense of Direction” is American bred, so he only knows how to race in a counter-clockwise direction.
Andy’s pension plan also includes lottery tickets, snooker and darts winnings, the occasional long shot at the track, and a seemingly inexhaustible bar tab at Jackie’s.
Andy’s hat seems to have shrunk in panel 3. Are we just now learning that he’s bald?
I was going to say that I saw the punch line coming from a mile away, but after careful measurement it more like a mile and a half.
If the guys can’t do any better than this, they should just tell the editor that their dog ate their homework.
Andy lost his hat in panel three! That’s the first time I remember that happening.
Is it just me, or do the colors look particularly vivid in today’s strip? Well done, colorist.
It’s 57°F here in EasTex this morning, and if I turn off all the noisemakers in my house, I swear I can hear my lawn sighing in relief.
A great artist… must be shaken by the naked truths that will not be comforted. This divine discontent, this disequilibrium, this state of inner tension is the source of artistic energy. (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe)
So, Bob should be grateful that Andy is pushing him to greatness!