Friday, 6 June 2008
Friday Night Fights: Bean vs. Jim Macks
From Gunsmith Cats vol. IX: Misty's Run (2001). Story & Art by Kenichi Sonoda. (click pic for larger)
A classic? FWHAM!
Poster Passion
As I've said on this blog before, I'm a big Obama fan. And I'm a huge fan of this poster, designed by the graphic geniuses at Obeygiant.com. I wish to no one (atheist invocation) that I'd sought out one of these posters months ago when they first appeared. They're all gone now, no reprints in the offing.
If anybody happens to have one they could part with, I would consider it a HUGE favor. I'll send you a signed book, donate money to Barack's campaign in your name, donate money to you in Barack's name, whatever you think is fair.
If anybody happens to have one they could part with, I would consider it a HUGE favor. I'll send you a signed book, donate money to Barack's campaign in your name, donate money to you in Barack's name, whatever you think is fair.
Jail
Today's Bizarro is brought to you by Necessary Evils Shower Gel.
Long ago I had to bail a guy I was sort of related to out of jail. From start to finish, the process made me want to take a shower. The phone call from Lockup at 3am made it difficult to get back to sleep. The trip the next morning to a bail bondsman in a nearby Texas town was "skeevy," to say the least. Standing in line at the city jail to get to the bulletproof window to talk to the rude, unhelpful woman to start the bail process was almost life-threatening in and of itself. If I hadn't had plenty of cigarettes to trade to the other folks in line for their protection, I might be typing this now with mangled fingers.
It was an educational experience, to be sure. I learned that day that as far as the people behind the counters and windows in this process are concerned, there is no difference between the folks being bailed and those doing the bailing. I learned that the city jail does not waste money on decor, furniture, or competent cleaning services. I learned that bail bondsmen and jail personnel have no sense of humor when it comes to jokes about their hygiene.
Most importantly, I learned that some relatives cannot be trusted to pay you back when you bail them out and hire them a lawyer. Sometimes they just disappear, never to be heard of again.
Which is payment enough, really.
Long ago I had to bail a guy I was sort of related to out of jail. From start to finish, the process made me want to take a shower. The phone call from Lockup at 3am made it difficult to get back to sleep. The trip the next morning to a bail bondsman in a nearby Texas town was "skeevy," to say the least. Standing in line at the city jail to get to the bulletproof window to talk to the rude, unhelpful woman to start the bail process was almost life-threatening in and of itself. If I hadn't had plenty of cigarettes to trade to the other folks in line for their protection, I might be typing this now with mangled fingers.
It was an educational experience, to be sure. I learned that day that as far as the people behind the counters and windows in this process are concerned, there is no difference between the folks being bailed and those doing the bailing. I learned that the city jail does not waste money on decor, furniture, or competent cleaning services. I learned that bail bondsmen and jail personnel have no sense of humor when it comes to jokes about their hygiene.
Most importantly, I learned that some relatives cannot be trusted to pay you back when you bail them out and hire them a lawyer. Sometimes they just disappear, never to be heard of again.
Which is payment enough, really.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)