The 24 May 2008 FOOB strip was heinous. Michael might as well be on his knees, kissing Elly’s expansive butt, as he sings her praises to Dee (what’s the Canadian equivalent of “Hosanna!”? “Hoseranna!”?) while Elly herself spouts platitudes about the Wonderfulness of Grandspawn that would make Mary Worth AND Big Daddy Keane puke.
But all is better…
So, at Mike Patterson’s little celebration party over at his buddy Weed’s house/studio, the two of them ignore the women, reminisce about old college times, and start rough-housing (there’s a lame punchline, and if you want to see it, look up the 22 May 2008). Naturally, the literati and cinemarati at CC picked up on this quick, with some comments about Women in Love‘s nude wrestling scene with Oliver Reed and Alan Bates. I don’t know if the mention of a more-current movie inspired me, or if it’s the beginning of the Summer Snowball of Films, and with it, the inevitable sequels.
Of course, I could just be a sick, sick puppy.
(I only ever saw the “first” poster when the movie was released, by the way–it’s amazing what’s out there on e-Bay.)
That Right Instep o’ Justice haunts me. I can to little to resist it, other than to use it for good.
I was seriously hoping that Mike Patterfoob’s second novel publication would’ve been a one-trick pony and too dull to snark. Maybe it is, or maybe it’s all because others have already beaten me to the snark. Not that I mind the inside subversion…
And the week ends on a high note, when one of Mike’s oldest buddies just can’t take the insufferability any longer…
It seems that Michael Patterfoob’s oh-so-thin veneer as an accomplished writer and author is peeling like cheap cellophane tape. First drugged-out Weed puts 2 and 2 together, and now his own child Meredith (a pre-schooler!) has done the same.
Mother of Mercy, is this the end of Mikey Paterfoob?
Patterfoob Kid #2 is vexing but has some interesting escapades. Okay, “escapades” suggests something vital and intriguing, but compared to Patterfoob Kid #1, Liz is simultaneously climbing Everest and finding a cure for cancer.
Patterfoob Kid #1, Michael, is beyond redemption. He’s boring. That’s death to both writers and authors, so we can only hope for the icy hand of the Grim Reaper to clap onto his shoulder.
THUD
Please don’t tell me that’s the Grim Reaper.
Anyway, as Michael prattles on an on about his favorite subject (i.e., Michael!), jolly old, laid-back Weed has an epiphany. Not that anyone would ever tell a Patterfoob to shut up…
…we get a strip of Liz recalling her ex-loves. Who really weren’t. Because they weren’t. Really. No, not at all. Because, you know, Asshathony is her only true love. Really. And she doesn’t even have to say something saccharine like “I love you” to him. He just knows. Like osmosis. Or something. They’re that much in synch. Oh, I left some cookies by the sink. I better put them away. Or I could just eat them and buy more. Yeah, that’s a good idea.
Anyway, a couple of anti-strips that would most likely make Liz dissolve into a puddle of distressed, denying tears (Good.):
So Warren’s hittin’ the road (or the sky), while Liz is content to spend the rest of her life in Milborough. Yay. Whatever.
Okay, maybe I wouldn’t be too keen on going to the Middle East these days, but weighing this against a long, long life in the ‘burbs with a pasty-faced, pasty-assed fiance’, a meddlin’ mother, etc., Liz’s decision-meter is well and truly screwed up.
Then again, there’s always the last-ditch effort…
All right. Warren may be a jerk (wow, LJ, did I get that one right?), but to be fair, he’s no better or worse than any other male in the Foobiverse. Yes, that means socially retarded, ham-handed and stunningly inept at dealing with emotional issues at worst, endearingly, droolingly “cute” at best. Of couse, it’s not like the women do much to teach them any better — whinging and puffing out ones lips really does not address the problem.
God. I hate this strip. Liz and the rest of her ilk deserve absolutely everything they get, including toddlers who will forever be in diapers and fart-filled bathwater.
