Sunday! Sunday! Sunday! Though it really doesn’t feel like a real Sunday, considering it’s mid-May and we’ve barely broken forty-eight degrees F today. I am sick of this crappy weather. Summer just doesn’t want to come, does it?
But forget about that crap! Comix are on the horizon, and we have two special appearances in today’s post, one from H&L‘s sister comic, Beetle Bailey! The other — well, hold onto your hats, because we’re about to see the very first Kind Of Actual Representation of an Ethnic Entity in the history of High on ‘Lois’. Brace yourselves!!
Hi and Lois, 5/17/09
You may be asking, “Slag, where is this black-or-Asian-or-miscellaneous ethnic person? Well, it’s not a person, actually, and I didn’t even notice it myself until I read the dead-tree version of the comic this morning, and it’s really not that exciting, so, sorry. In the first panel of the last row, in the Hunting Dogs balloon, one can just see what appears to be a brown pooch wearing a West African dashiki and pointing out the harmless little lion to the Ruthless European Big Game Hunter. You know, the standard native guide in the jungle/savanna/everglades/mountains/thicket kind of guy. Not the most appropriate, I know, but then again I’m not too keen on the pink, be-Afroed poodle in the dead center of the comic. There are male poodles as well, guys…
But anyway. I’m pretty big on dog show competitions, so my first though when reading this comic was that they forgot the Hound Group. I guess there’s no clever way for Trixie to misinterpret “hound” unless they show stalker-dogs or something. And as an owner of teeny tiny Terriers, I must protest, sir, at the depiction of Toy Dogs as portly, incessantly barking Golden Retrievers in top hats. Our dogs rarely bark, and even more rarely yip. No, really!
Whew. I said there was going to be some BB action in this post, didn’t I? I did!
Beetle Bailey, 5/17/09
I didn’t see this until this morning, and then it was without the throwaway panels at the top. Imagine reading this comic without the top row, and imagine my confusion at seeing Killer (if that is his real name) sitting with a doll-like beady-eyed chick in a cocktail dress and heels. Imagine walking in those heels through the grass. You’d puncture the ground with every step. The fact that they just came from a movie clarifies this a bit, I guess, but it still doesn’t explain why every other woman in the vicinity is wearing the same exact get-up. Maybe they’re coming from a convention or something. A convention for attractive women with unfortunately deformed mouths that constantly hang open like a baby bird’s. Seriously, what is wrong with them?
And even more confusedly, if Killah and Chicklady have just come from a movie, they must have gone to the Extra-Super-Early Matinee, because it’s still blinding daylight outside. Not quite grounds for eveningwear in my book, but hey, to each their own.
And, of course, the most confusing thing of all is that Killer’s hat wriggles when he’s horny. There is no reason for this to happen. It makes me hate him. “Kiss me, Killer.” “Sure!” What a loser.