Ballard Street by Jerry Van Amerongen for November 25, 2009

Er… no one is surprised?

No, it’s his thing and it happens frequently….

He’s proud. It’s bronzed. His parents used to paddle him with it as a child.

For a rollocking good time.

I think that this would be a great street to live on. One can do whatever and the neighbors don’t judge or condemn you;they just accept it. Wish more places were like that.

That’s not strange. If he were to bring it to breakfast, that would be strange. Everyone knows you bring a compass to breakfast, not an oar.

With which to serve the “oar” d’oeurves, no doubt.

Same old, same old.

Kenny was awarded the Palme d’Oar, and he will not let anyone forget it.

The Old Admiral has come ashore to regale the landlubbers with tales of his days at sea. Again.

Meanwhile back in Cleveland, Clara is not letting Cleo have ant fun.

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

Cleo, it’s either that or stop eating your toys!

Err, any fun.

But the kibble is teaching her where all the cheats and easter eggs are….

Why shouldn’t Cleo play with her food?

Poor kibble has so little to look forward to in life.

They have telethons to raise money to fight life-changing diseases…

Fundraisers and Make-A-Wish donations for kids with cancer…

But who shows any sympathy for a poor little bag of kibble that’ll never see its second birthday.

You go, Cleo.

BTW… I’m not surprised to see Kenny’s oar raised high over his head…

I’ve always said he didn’t have both of them in the water.

Cleo can’t stop now. Kibble has won the last 4 games and is now up to level 12. One more win means that Cleo must set Kibble free and must promise only to eat cat food.

He’s done so every day for the past ten years.

Who’s she going to play with?

If that’s an XBox and they are playing NBA Live, this could be,

Kibble, Kibble, double dribble.

“I’m a boatman, gee I’m sore

I came home without an ’oar."

From The Smothers Brothers version of The Boatman Song.

Very funny ’toon today!

LOL moment!

Better let the Kibble win, Cleo — nobody wants a sad sack moping around…