Ballard Street by Jerry Van Amerongen for February 27, 2009

Technically, yes; anthropologically, no.

Larry is so advanced, he can watch your lips move and those tiny bubbles of saliva, and not hear a word you are saying.

Clara’s nephew should advertise a Five Dollar Foot Long.

Clara and Claude are sharing a glass? Claude, what did you pour in there?

Meanwhile Cleo keeps her eyes on the prize.

A journey of 1,000 miles begins with a single foot.

Hi again, everybody!

We’re commenting here today on

the February 27th  2019 “CLEO and COMPANY”

 

Which you can read on Sherpa

http://www.comicssherpa.com/site/feature?uc_comic=cscwy

 

And where, of course, hilarity is afoot.

I’d say let’s all give Nighthawks a hand, for those jokes… but apparently if you do, he takes a foot.

Not that I can really point any fingers…. not gonna stick my neck out to criticise…

not when I obviously have a hand in it now.

 

Nighthawks…. from yesterday….

Sorry I didn’t notice till too late that your name was on that poster too…. so kudos to you as well!

I should have realised it was your drawing of Cleo.

But yeah…. funny to see Stubby’s hand grasping the banjo neck… he’s not even making any attempt to pretend he’s fingering the strings.

Of course, I wouldn’t know how either… and I can’t make up for it with my singing. Or whatever you would call it.

 

Alexi… I agree… not a good sign. Your posts are still there on some other strips… so yes, it could be flagging.

 

Did anybody besides me look at Ballard St, above, and see it in a way it was NOT intended?

Talk about “advanced.”

What I’m talking about is Thalia’s legs.

 

At first, I thought she was half reclining, in a very short skirt, with one knee up…

I couldn’t quite make out the shape of her thighs, except to say the pose seemed suggestive…. and un-Ballard-like.

Till I blinked, and noticed that she has the usual Ballard Street toothpick shins, descending from her hem…

and those voluptuous “thighs” are actually the sofa cushion and Larry’s trousers.

Thigh…..

And she’s not.

My guess is it’s going where the sun don’t shine.

That hee hee is gonna turn into an ow ow in a few seconds.

Since a lot of the people that I have “known” since I started on GC come to this comment fest, I’m going to put this out here. I posted it on Duplex on the 24th in response to Impkins Patsnozzle’s question. This is basically a catharsis for me and not a cry for sympathy.

I was diagnosed with Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis a year ago, when I was given 2 – 4 years to live. I’m sticking with that number now because of the stability of my last few lung function tests. Pretty much nothing has changed this past year. Basically, my lungs are hardening. Listening with a stethoscope, they kinda sound like when you’re chewing Rice Krispies®. I am on Oxygen when I’m moving, but my blood O2 is normal at rest.

My pulmonologist says no cancer and not COPD or smoking related. So basically, they don’t know why without opening me up, and I’m not letting them do that right now. My best guess is some of the hazmat materials I dealt with working on Cold War era (50s-70s) submarines, most likely culprit asbestos pipe insulation. #2 suspect: bird dust from my breeder days.

In order to get eligible to be put on a lung transplant program at Loyola University, I had to lose 50 lbs starting last year. The first 6 months saw basically no loss (probably depression), but as of last Friday, I’m halfway there.

The transplant coordinator was happy with my weight loss the week before and my name is in front of the transplant team. At the moment, it’s the best I can hope for.

So…. any day I’m not looking at the brown side of grass is a blessing and I’m making the most of my time. I’m working on a bucket list, one of which is turning my avatar into a shoulder tat. Haven’t found an artist I’d trust with it, yet.

There you have it. I’m still the loveable smartass you all know and love, just with an expiration date. Fingers crossed it’s on the long end of it. Blessings to you all, my friends.

Look at that spread Clara set before them! What a good cook. But, poor Cleo is being ignored! I’ve never seen her show such restraint! Where’s her bazooka?

What?