Won’t spoil the movie yet. The full review will be on Monday. Be sure to go see Iron Man 3.
I will am tired, but the day was worth it.
Tons more on Monday. Have a great weekend everyone. Time to nap.
…
Oh! Also, Happy Birthday to my wife.
Guys can be hot as well. I would insert a picture of Mark Wahlberg or Daniel Craig here, but then I’d have to go drown myself in a creek. Besides, no one reading this post wants to see a picture of Wahlberg or Craig.
Also, this strip is not commenting on the attractiveness levels of the average comic store. I go to comic stores, and I’m not ugly … I’m just not attractive. (I’m still better looking than Rob, and that’s all that matters.) Comic stores attract all walks of life, and that’s what make them great.
Really I just wanted to show Missy being awestruck with Yah Dood. The idea amused me.
Okay. I lied. Everyone wants to see a picture of Daniel Craig.
“Oh my.”
Pardon me while I go drown myself.
First, happy birthday Rob.
I don’t know why we have given Flash such a nudist complex, except that nudity is funny. I’m not, nor have I ever been an exhibitionist. I believe in clothes.
In fact, I’m borderline never-nude:
“There are dozens of us.”
I don’t wear cutoffs. However, my socks are always on. For some reason , my sock-wearing drives Rob crazy. He accuses me of being a vampire.
“Once a vampire was discovered, it could be destroyed by cremation, cutting off its head, exposing it to sunlight or by driving a stake through its heart. Other superstitions told that a vampire could be destroyed by touching it with a crucifix, drenching it in holy water and garlic, stealing his left sock, filling it with stones and throwing it in a river, or using a “dhampir”, or a vampire’s child.” — The Encyclopedia Mythica
He is just being crazy. Of course, I’m not a vampire. I can go in the sun and I don’t suck blood. I just like my feet being warm. Is that so wrong?
I’m sure Flash will continue to expose more of himself than necessary. He’ll make up for my conservative clothes-wearing.
The issue about reading a comic before its owner is actually Rob’s deal. He and I have several rules about our comic-reading time.
One rule is that we read different comics at the same time. I read really fast, and if we’re reading the same comic at the same time, I will give something away. While he’s on page two I’m on page twenty-two, squealing or gasping at the ending. Thus, giving something away.
We also have a rule to not discuss any single issue until the entire stack of new comics is read. Then we go through a long review process.
There is also a rule about talking to me while I read comics. Don’t waste your time. I won’t listen to you. I am in Gotham, The Xavier Institute, or Metropolis, and I don’t have time for you.
The rule that is featured in today’s strip is that the comic owner gets the first read. This started when Rob and I were in college. We would buy stacks of comics each Wednesday, sit down to read, and would sometimes end up with mixed piles. If we weren’t paying attention, we would grab the other’s comic book and read it first. So we elected to keep focusing on what we bought, and when done, created a mixed “finished” pile.
Breaking the rules gets you scorn, and sometimes, hit with a baseball bat.
Sometimes knowing someone for a long time can be a good and bad thing. It’s nice that you have a deep connection with another person. It’s a little scary when it’s someone like Flash.
Don’t mess with Paige. Seriously, she’ll mess you up.
No need to tackle a man while he talks to his girlfriend. However, if you must, make sure it’s Rob. He doesn’t know he can just tune her out. He really listens to her. What a fool.
He’s coming down! Freedom for Sloth. Everyone is better for it.
