In Which We Learn How NSFW Robert Gillis is...

*Sigh*... it's been so long, I know.  What can I say?  Work.  And tomorrow, Beloved has the first of multiple surgeries she's going to have this year.  This is just one of those years.  Today's post goes out to Wayne Allen Sallee, who is sick of looking at that frozen salad.  Gordon Ramsey never commented on it, by the way.  I guess he's too good to notice a frozen salad.

Anyway, thanks to contributor Robert Gillis, we've got some new goodies!  Thusly:

Oh, is that what you kids are calling it these days?

Seriously, could the engine of doom be any more suggestive?  Wow.

And here's some Fun with Out of Context Dialogue! (tm!):

I don't know... if you're the first brought to your knees, I think most people would agree you're the winner.

Wow, Robert Gillis has quite the eye for the double-entendre.  Thanks again, Robert!

Hopefully, I'll see you soon.  I know I'm missing more posts than I'm posting, but life ebbs and flows.  Best of fortunes to you until next time, Dear Ones!

A Frozen Chef Salad and... Well, You'll Know it When You See It.

So, I opened the freezer at work wherest I keeps me afternoon burritos and found this:

Yes, someone froze a chef salad.  I tweeted it to Gordon Ramsey suggesting I found his next Masterchef.

Anyway, here's a bit from Superman Family #201 that... um... I just don't even know how things got to this point, so I'll just say this is contributor Robert Gillis's fault and leave it at that:

That's what happens when you forget the safe word.

Oh, did I type that?  I should hit delete.  Egad, we go down a randy road sometimes, don't we?  Thanks again, Robert!

See you soon!

Under the Radar

This week may be spotty at best, Dear Ones, but let's at least start it off right with a final look at Master Comics #50!

So, here's the Bulletman story where we see Bulletman take a stick of dynamite to the face:

It's actually amusing if you play the Looney Toons theme in your head while you look at it.  Anyway, here we see why Susan's career in the medical field never worked out:

Okay, if she can't tell the difference between "dazed" and "dead," I don't want anyone left in her care ever.  You'd be afraid to take a nap around the woman lest you wake up in a funeral home.

Anyway, she's not listening to Bulletman as per usual:

And then this happens:

So, Bulletman can take a stick of dynamite to the head and recover almost immediately.  But Susan?  One golf club to the head and she's out cold.  I'm not saying a golf club to the head wouldn't be unpleasant, mind you... but she clearly ain't no Bulletman.

Moving on to the previously-promised new hero, Radar.

Ugh.  I hate him already for nothing more than his name,.

Anyway...

Pep Pepper?  Okay, I'll give it to you that "Radar" is an improvement over his real name.

Anyway...

Oh, man... I want to see this guy get throat-punched so badly.

Oh, eesh.  Radar eyes?  Really?

You're overselling it, folks.  Radar Eyes is one of those powers that would be cool to have but boring to read about, second only to telepathy in sheer boredom factor.

See what I mean?

Okay... so are you not allowed to act as Radar if you're wearing plaid or something?  Or is the plain side of your coat some sort of signal that you're working, like the "on duty" light on a taxi?  What if you roll up the sleeves so that parts of both sides are exposed?  Do you have to pay for two tickets to see a movie?  This is really confounding me.

This is unintentionally hilarious:

Yes, tickling the dames with a mustache is a bona fide emergency.  If he tickles one of them with the mustache while wearing plaid, would it be cheating if he tickled the other wearing plain?

I am so done with this character but you know we'll see him again.

See you soon, hepcats!

CAPT. MMMmmmmm.....

Yes, I know.  I've become the worst blogger ever.  It's probably my advanced years.  Be patient with an old man.

Anyway, it's time for the landmark issue #50 of Master Comics!

Hmmmm.... well, I've got to say out of the gate that I don't recall Captain Marvel making me any promises of a new hero.  And frankly, I wouldn't have been very excited about this guy under the best of circumstances.  But considering that Captain Marvel Jr. had carried the title, I don't think it's cool that they shoved him in the background on the 50th issue.  Some folks have no gratitude.

Anyway, here's an ad for Wheaties I saw inside:

I know they want me to think it's the muscular guy who ate the whole case of Wheaties, but I'm going to reserve my guess for a few hours and see which one of them spends the next 48 hours glued to the seat of a latrine.

Anyhoo, the CMJ story posed all kinds of interesting theological and philosophical questions.  My first question is whether Freddy's strategy here would work.  

Oh, he got hit by a bus.  Did I forget to tell you that?  Because that's rather important.  Freddy got hit by a bus.

Moving on, do you think this would work?

Not that I'm blaming Freddy for trying, because I'd sure give it a shot.  Heck, I'll probably try every magic word I can think of when I'm about to pass this mortal coil.

Although I nearly died back in '91 and I didn't try any magic words.  Heck, I even turned down the offer of the priest... although I told the nun I was totally down with her praying for me despite my non-Catholicism.  I probably need all the help I can get.

Anyway, I don't think it would work because the Marvels are different people than their counterparts.  If you doubt me, look at how Billy and Captain Marvel refer to each other.

But Freddy never got the word out, so he's a ghost:

Yes.  For the second time in two issues.

And apparently the religions that believe in purgatory got it right, because Freddy is still wandering the earth with people of all moral persuasions:

I'm perplexed CMJ is perplexed, considering we just went through the same thing last issue.

Because this story did not follow the fundamental Christian version of the afterlife, my parents would have pooped watermelons if they'd caught me reading it.

Geez... cops everywhere except when you need one.

Anyway, this happens:

And we learn that a ghost doesn't breathe in air, but he exhales.  Because, COMICS!

AN HOUR LATER Freddy is revived?  That guy in the movie Crank was  apparently way too worried.  Man, I'm going to put "no matter when or how I died, I want an Adrenalin injection" in my Advance Care Directive.

See you soon!