… we have this. More later.
And in other news …
Month: January 2019
Grounds for dismissal
practices her duck-and-cover.
I took a poll of registered felines this morning: “Is former Starbucks CEO Howard Schultz a viable candidate for president of the United States?”
The results are as you see.
Of course, the respondents had yet to enjoy the morning’s venti salted caramel mocha frappucino with five pumps of frap roast, four pumps of caramel sauce, four pumps of caramel syrup, three pumps of mocha, three pumps of toffee nut syrup, double blended with extra whipped cream. So the results could be skewed.
Or maybe the candidate is. In describing Schultz as “more of a bore than a monster,” a one-percenter who could draw a few gazillion from petty cash to run as an independent, split the anti-Cheeto vote “and re-elect the dumber version of himself currently in the White House,” Matt Taibbi sums it all up nicely at Rolling Stone: “Is anything in the world more dangerous than a bored billionaire?”
The call is coming from inside the (White) House!
This should be a short hearing. I mean, it should be. Doesn’t mean it will be.
• Update: Il Douche’s own minions seem to think he is full of orange shit, from clodhoppers to combover. It’s a helluva commentary on your fabled deal-making and management skills when your people are saying — out loud and in public — that you’re building Walls® in all the wrong places.
Onewheel to rule them all
I gotta get out more often.
After a couple enjoyable hours on the ol’ bikeroo I decided that what I needed was a plate of chicken enchiladas in green prepared by somebody who was not me, so off I went to Los Cuates.
On the way there I saw a guy riding one of the dinguses in the video up top. I dismissed it as another acid flashback, but here it is on the Innertubes, so it must be real.
On the way back I saw this frame shop, which is considering branching out into new services (hey, a frame is a frame, amirite?).
And on Central near San Mateo, where you never know what the hell you’re gonna see, I saw a couple folks waving signs for a charity car wash … to raise funds for a funeral.
There has to be a story behind that last one, and I hope to Christ I never hear it.
The wrong Bozos keep getting kicked off the bus
As long as we have a cartoon president, how ’bout drawing him up a cartoon Wall®?
We have the technology. Also, the manpower. Newspapers are shitcanning Pulitzer-winners right, left, and center, among them Steve Benson, who was the editorial cartoonist at the Arizona Republic back in 1980, when I scribbled the occasional ’toon for The Arizona Daily Star.
This is nothing new, of course. A J-school prof warned me in the Seventies that there were maybe a thousand editorial cartoonists, tops, and that I might consider expanding my portfolio a tad. This was excellent advice. Because their numbers kept shrinking like a spider on a hotplate, to hundreds and finally dozens.
It was nearly impossible to even make a start Back in the Day® because what few cartoonists there were could be had for chump change via syndication. So the editor of the Frog Dick (S.C.) Daily Lily Pad & Croaker could have Pat Oliphant every day for the price of a tepid cup of Maxwell House at Lulu’s Lunch Bucket.
I still got to draw cartoons, as you know. But I did it as a reporter, as a copy editor, as an assistant feature editor, and like that there. On the side. Onliest time I ever got hired as an honest-to-God cartoonist was when that Boulder-based journal of competitive cycling decided I was too dim to be their managing editor but funny enough to scribble gags about fat masters, dope fiends, and Suits.
In a few short years there won’t be any of us. Robots will be drawing all the cartoons. And you won’t get any of the jokes, because they will be by robots, for robots.
Mad Blog Media 