Frank Johnson actually refers to his big-game wildlife hunt as a possibility of scoring some large racks.
*snort*
The coolest thing about this current story is that Frank’s wife is really pissed off at his plans for the canned hunt, and instead of just fretting at home, she’s taking action. You go, girl!
And like we’ve learned from Mary Worth and Rex Morgan and Mary Worth, alcohol isn’t the answer.
Alcohol is the question.
“Yes!” is the answer.
This entry was posted on Thursday, September 16th, 2010 at 10:25 PM and is filed under Markin' the Trail, Miscarriage of Juggstice. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
Something weird seems to be going on with these posts, or at least the way I’m receiving them. They seem to rearrange themselves in chronological order, and how did I miss the bottom strip from this MT set? That’s freaking hilarious. Mark has tiny feet too, so I’m surprised his meat and two veg are bigger than Frank Johnson’s johnson.
I’ll occasionally add a new mashup to an existing one, particularly if they’re carrying on with a specific theme (like the Luann “oh my God, Dirk’s on the loose!” plot). When I do that, I’ll move the “enhanced” thread to the top of the list, so people don’t miss my deathless…um…whatever. 😀