sklompar's blog

Mark's badassery really speaks for itself here. No word bubble needed.

And that's totally okay; no one* reads mine either.

*Other than people leaving comment spam. Comment spammer-people, how much do you get paid to do this? Seriously, I'm curious. Leave me an answer in the comments, and I promise** I'll post your link.

**Maybe.

My name's not even Gil, but I'd love a mug like the one shown in panel one.

Update: So there's this thing called Cafe Press, and you can do stuff like, make custom mugs? I guess you can also do things like publish your own novel there and totally have a bestseller!

Now this is a sport I could really see myself getting into:

Who wants to bet that, in the best tradition of the strip's narrative style, this means the abrupt end of basketball season? Perhaps a day of reflection by Gil tomorrow (a conversation with Kaz as they lift weights?) and baseball season on Monday!

Somewhere deep in a secret Japanese research facility, a group of doctors looked over a test pilot after he was horribly injured in a crash. "We can rebuild him," they said. "Faster...stronger...just like Donald Fagen from Steely Dan."

Now that's a pilot I'd like to see.

Mark, his darkening face condition apparently a result of his butterfly-bandaged gunshot wound to the head, hides out while Lonnie Whatshername talks to a dude who looks suspiciously like a bald version of Greg Norton from Husker Du.

Oh, Parker, taking it upside the head so hard you're momentarily transformed into Gil himself. Are you really responsible for the Lini-trashing website, or is it all just a prank?

UPDATE: I've added the meaning of this poem at the end of the post.

What I expected, was
Thunder, fighting.
Long struggles with men
And climbing.
After continual straining
I should grow strong;
Then the rocks would shake
And I rest long.