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We are pleased to announce that "[Old Man] Muffaroo" has attained, for the remainder of the week, the coveted top spot in the Comments of the Week at The Comics Curmudgeon. Mainly because we are [Old Man] Muffaroo. In case I didn't already mention that enough times.
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MARK TRAIL

I was a confident, take-charge guy,
Savvy to the ways of nature, a two-fisted he-man,
And a family man with a loving wife and a spunky kid
Waiting for me at home after each adventure
With a stack of pancakes to make it all perfect.
Yet I threw myself into peril
Over and over, risking it all on each toss,
Miraculously carried through by brute strength
And my abiding hatred of facial hair.
It was all too easy. I couldn't lose.
I started taking more risks, and more.
I even let myself get shot in the head,
And escaped with nothing but an inch-long dab of medical tape.
It was then that I understood I wanted to die.
My life, I realized, was a sustained falsehood.
And nobody would end it for me. I was too strong.
Well, I finally stopped relying on proxies and did the deed myself,
With organic, sustainable hemp rope.
I left no note. What would I have said?
"I'm sorry, Cherry, but I have been living a lie.
The man you thought you knew was a fraud,
And you may as well know this:
I was only pretending to love pancakes."

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also published at the Comics Curmudgeon and the New Pals Club Web-Log
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JULIUS DITHERS
Even though Cora was friends with Blondie,
She used to ask me why I didn't just fire him
And let him stay fired. He didn't get much done,
And he took long lunches and he goofed off
At his desk all day long. Oh, he was honest
But I couldn't trust him with any important work,
So I fobbed off the clients I didn't care about on him,
And let him reorganize the stock room from time to time.
Some of the board members mentioned him in meetings,
With pointed references to 'Dead Wood' and such,
And one even hinted that those little bits of hair that stuck out
Bore some kind of resemblance to my own. He didn't last.
A man can stand for just so much. No, he wasn't my son,
But I made a promise to J.B. when he disinherited the boy
That he'd always have a job at J.C. Dithers and Company
As long as he lived. I kept that promise, hard as it was.
But I never promised I wouldn't kill him, and one day I did.

originally printed at the New Pals Club Web-Log
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