Poor, delusional Jeff, thinking he can wield The Finger just like Mary! He might be a doctor, but that hardly matters — The Finger, like its close cousin, The Hairy Eyeball, is rooted in the mists and mysteries of time and space. And those who are Masters of it consider upstarts contemptible, to say the least…
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…
Or in Santa Royale. After ignoring Mary for what seems weeks (it’s at least a few days, and phone calls don’t seem to play into it), Jeff Corey waltzes back into her condo and starts issuing ultimatums when he hears that (gasp!) Mary might be talking to another human male (double gasp!).
Yeah, like Mary’s going to listen to a pontificating windbag. There is no second, compared to her platitudinous abilities, and Jeff’s a dope for even imagining he’s in her league.
And this showed up after realizing that pretty much inverting four days of “Mary and Jeff Sitting and Drinking Coffee” strips makes a pretty fun exercise:
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…
Mark Trail has been taking a bite out of crime — pet-nappers, to be specific! Andy has been his ally in the fight, and their plan has worked perfectly as Andy’s radio transmitter leads Mark to the villains! Mark’s punchin’ skillz are preceded by his formerly unknown kickin’ skillz! Don’t let those “gay chicken legs” (from CC’s Mautha) fool you!
…but I’ll have an order of piping-hot honesty, Mary!
…and I’m sure you hectic semi-retired medical status was the reason that it took DAYS before you got around to seeing Mary, your so-called “lady friend.” Better watch your step, Dr. Corey — Mary’s not blind, you know, and don’t all women just love to “window shop”?
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?
