So I’m out of it for a little while (or a couple of years), only to discover that some things never change.

And yet, Jeffy survives, moves on, and always stops to smell the roses…or the asphalt, or something.

Still, the old man isn’t as dumb as he looks…he’s still alive after Thel’s given birth to four melonheads!

You moron!

JEFFY GETS A CLUE!

(Bushes:  they’re just not for wee-wee anymore.)

Hmmm…things are getting stranger and even more unsettling in the Keane Kompound, it seems.

Two circles in as many days that I am compelled to mash…way to go, Bil ‘n’ Jeff!

…it would’ve kept them in their place.

Oh, hey! It’s the Winter Olympics! In Sochi, Russia! Remember, Vladimir Putin wants you to watch it!

Relentlessly!

…Mommy always buys the el cheapo candy canes that just have the red stripes painted on.

Probably NOT with a toxic paint.  More’s the pity.

And adding to the holiday cheer (and pain), is Big Daddy Bil sizing up Jeffy.  (Dammit, the bottle on the shelf really *did* read CHLOROFORM…)

Could the holidays get any more nauseating than at or around the Keane Kompound?