It's Sunday, this is supposed to be the must fruitful of the week. And, alas, we have just one. My orchard is turning fallow.
The Born Loser by Art and Chip Sansom
We do have two more silent antepenultimate panels in Get Fuzzy and Cathy
And in my haste Saturday, I missed Barkeater Lake's third SPP in a row.
Pandolph may be in re-prints right now, but if I can hold a dead man accountable for strips from fifty years ago, I definitely can call out a young wipper-snapper's strips from eight months ago. It's a cruel business I'm in.
Do orchard's fallow? I need to be careful metaphorizing on subjects I have no clue about.