I think I’m just going to leave this here.

Then again, one crappy racer made out of scrap lumber looks pretty much like every other crappy racer. Gotta set yourself apart, Thel, and Billy’s thinking ahead!

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!