Snark It Up, FuzzBall!

Happy Earth Day! I’ve started my under-the-counter earthworm composter (no big action yet, but it doesn’t smell bad, either, so I think things are working). Everyone in Toon Town was busy honoring the Earth, it seems.

[Vermicomposting update (23 April): I couldn’t take it any longer and decided to see if the cupful of nightcrawlers from Wal-Mart were dead or alive, so I dug around in the compost bin with my bare hands (ewww!). There are only a few worms (from what I could see), but Jiminy Christmas, one’s the size of a freakin’ SAND WORM, and it moves as muscularly and determinedly as one of them! I should be getting my pound o’ nightcrawlers in the mail today or tomorrow, so with any luck, I’m gonna be hip-deep in worm poop in very little time. I might not be able to control the Spice, but I envision some degree of controlling the nightcrawler castings…]

Just last week, I was sympathizing with April, as Elly was bound and determined to interrupt her homework and school deadlines with the temptation of strawberry fudge sundaes, 3/4 lb. burgers, shrimp on the bar-be, and other delectable glop du jour.

Make me promise that I’ll never do that again — the Patterson operon is beginning to kick in big time, and it’s April’s innate nature to become an ass.

…let’s see: thick, moron, idiot. Is there going to be a point when someone in the audience catches on? Is there nothing on television tonight that anyone feels compelled to race home and watch? I think it’s a plot to keep Andy at the community center until sunrise…

There’s just too much goodness over at the MRSA meeting. I am powerless to resist.

This is dedicated to Mr. bats :[ a child of the 60s and its panoply of wonderful television shows, television commercials, and fun ‘n’ dangerous toys. I don’t think he ever had one of these things, but he still remembers the slogan. Whenever, “six fingers” drops into the conversation, he’ll recite it! It’s a gift, I guess.

(Maybe this is also dedicated to para-Olympians and the goodness that is Gil Thorp illustration; this took only a few lines to “fix”…)

…and belligerent and stupid, too. Rex and Co. are trying to shed some light on the MRSA outbreak, only to be repeatedly shouted down by yahoos in the audience hollering “How do we kill it?” (Well, it’s more like “HOW DO WE KILL IT?”).

Josh from Comic Curmudgeon invited folks to use this catchy little phrase in any number of situations ( http://joshreads.com/?p=1522#comment-481815 ), and the folks came through; read through the commentary to catch some of their excellent efforts. One CC’er wondered if the entire Foobiverse could be caught in the cross-hairs, as it were…maybe not all of them, but some (hey! a three-way squeeze!).

It hinked me out to deal with this very creepy hybrid “thing” (heck, it hinked me out to read the original Lio strip — shades of the old Steve McQueen classic, The Blob!), but I’m tough.

And mucho affection for Mark Tatulli, who does Lio. Our favorite naturalist made a two-day guest appearance this week — It. Was. Great.

Mary may have met her match. Then again you don’t go messin’ in family affairs with folks who have names like Corleone, or Amalfi. If she’s lucky, she won’t be sleeping with the sardines.

Isn’t the cast of Rex Morgan enough? The sultry beauty of June? The rugged good looks of Rex? The endearing sulkiness of Sarah? The canine breath of Abbey? And the suave sophistication of the hospital’s resident vampire, Dr. Andy Reed, aka Andreu, Count Morgu?

Evidently not. Desperate times call for desperate measures…

In the Rex Morgan universe, the past two days have been like Christmas in Heaven! Well, it’s like that for me, although poor Andy (the supply-closeted vampire) and Rex and June might beg to differ. Hicks ‘n’ yokels! Pitchforks ‘n’ torches (umm…maybe more like frill picks from Joe’s Diner and Bic lighters)! And I didn’t think it could get much better than a weekend fishing trip!

Whups! It’s public service time here in the Snark Cave (or in the basement). When will people learn? When will children learn? When will bouncy little puppies learn? Don’t make it so Mark Trail has to punch some common sense into you!