This week Dad was making some overly general comics with overly general feelings in them, and so I was all like, "You got to be specific, dad. You know, like, 'Once there was a dude named Randy with one left foot.'" Then Laura says, "One left foot doesn't sound very specific to me..." (all smart-alecky) and so I clarify, " and no right foot." At this point humor has been created and we all yuck it up and decide that we will all write comics with the following opening panels:
1. Once there was a dude named Randy, with one left foot
2. And no right foot
Behold, nonexistent audience, the fruits of our "labors" :
*Donald made one too, I'll add it when I find it.
1. Once there was a dude named Randy, with one left foot
2. And no right foot
Behold, nonexistent audience, the fruits of our "labors" :
*Donald made one too, I'll add it when I find it.
Yeah, well it may seem all yukkity-yuck to youse, but I'm feelin a little sorry for this dude, Randy. I read the comics and I was crying like a baby. Just sobbing and whimpering. Weeping and wailing. Blubbering like a baby.
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