Pickles by Brian Crane for July 09, 2024

To quote Zoe from this past Saturday’s “Baby Blues”: Big time!

How can she have chin whiskers when she doesn’t even have a chin?

Aᴀᴀʀʀʀʀᴏᴏᴏᴏᴏᴏᴏ!

Opal’s howling at the moon

I love them because the tickle my mustache

There’s no pleasing that woman

Open mouth, insert foot!

Sometimes Opal reminds me of my mother-in-law, how she was!

That’s a horrible thing to say to a woman!

Even Roscoe got booted out. So don’t say anything about her bamboo patch of nose hairs, while she has her head tipped back so much you can see her BRAIN.

And Earl had sung a parody of “Orchids in the Moonlight” —

.

“Chin whiskers in the moonlight

How quickly they grew

How they glisten in the moonlight

And capture early morning dew

.

“When whiskers fade in the plucking

They speak of pain and good-bye

After aloe cream is slathered

It’s as if they never mattered:

Dear, my love can never die”

Is this a repeat? seems like I have seen this already.

may need to invest in getting it bigger. :}

Earl is always in the doghouse. If he is is in the doghouse.

I have learned never to say the first thing that comes to mind, when in a conversation with my wife. Or the second.

Romantic, Earl is not.

Earl lives there.

Opal is so ungrateful! Big deal she has some whiskers so shave or pluck them off why pick on Earl.

Will you guys PLEASE leave Gramma alone..???

Stay tuned for further hair-raising adventures!

Glistens like nose hair after a sneeze.

Oh Yea !

Gramps should’ve known better!

These guys have absolutely no respect for women!

My wife and I are senior citizens. We look foward to your comic strip every day. Really hits home.

Oh,earl…….

Yep.

Now I got the Green Jelly song stuck in my head…

“Little Pigs, Little Pigs, let me in!” – “Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin”

You guessed it Nelson…attaboy!

I had a friend who said she liked to feel her leg hair fluttering in the breeze.

C’mon, Brian!! Time for these two to Indian wrestle one another!!

aww…Earl, you old romantic, you!!

You both need a muzzle.

Like the silver sheen across a Madison’s lake Monona on a warm summer night …

Move it on over. Rock it on over

Move over little dog, a big, old dog is movin’ in

I recall my grandmom (born 1905) plucking her chin whiskers with a tweezer when I was a kid in the 1950’s and 60’s.

what about that wart with a couple of strands of hair poking through, one gray the other black?

oh wait.

8^)