SNYDERMANIA: SnYder CoMics #4

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

SnYder CoMics #4

SnYder CoMics 2010

For years, the common No Checks sign in restaurants has compelled me to do a bad Steve Martin and Dan Akroyd wild and crazy guys imitation and make a scene similar to the one portrayed in my comic. It never gets old for me. As for my wife, it's another story...

5 comments:

Susan R. Mills said...: I love it! It never gets old for me either. Thanks for the laugh on this dreary night. :); January 26, 2010 at 9:13 PM
BeFrank said...: You are on fire, man! Go on, with your bad self.; January 27, 2010 at 12:23 AM
Guely of Sweden said...: Checks! Haven't seen one in ages!!; January 27, 2010 at 4:31 AM
italgalmm said...: I'm afraid ..
I am with your wife on this one..

But Hey you wild and crazy guy..
the drawing IS cute.

; ); January 27, 2010 at 4:33 AM
#167 Dad said...: Susan,
At last someone else loves old bad jokes.
Frank,
You're fueling the firine, baby!
G-Man,
You mean I'm not the first to think of the bit???
italgalm,
I've always though my drawings were cite - thank you...; February 2, 2010 at 3:13 PM

NORTHERN EXPOSURE

Goethe's final words: "More light." Ever since we crawled out of that primordial slime, that's been our unifying cry: "More light." Sunlight. Torchlight. Candlight. Neon. Incandescent. Lights that banish the darkness from our caves, to illuminate our roads, the insides of our refrigerators. Big floods for the night games at Soldier's field. Little tiny flashlight for those books we read under the covers when we're supposed to be asleep. Light is more than watts and footcandles. Light is metaphor. Thy word is a lamp unto my feet. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home- Lead Thou me on! Arise, shine, for thy light has come. Light is knowledge. Light is life. Light is light.

FIELD OF DREAMS

Well, you know I... I never got to bat in the major leagues. I would have liked to have had that chance. Just once. To stare down a big league pitcher. To stare him down, and just as he goes into his windup, wink. Make him think you know something he doesn't. That's what I wish for. Chance to squint at a sky so blue that it hurts your eyes just to look at it. To feel the tingling in your arm as you connect with the ball. To run the bases - stretch a double into a triple, and flop face-first into third, wrap your arms around the bag. That's my wish, Ray Kinsella. That's my wish. And is there enough magic out there in the moonlight to make this dream come true?