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Weak XXXII

7 August 2019

No. 2,416 (cartoon)

Does alcoholism run in your family?

It gallops.

8 August 2019

Chartreuse All Over

If legend and/or marketing hyperbole is to be believed, François Annibal d’Estrées gave Carthusian monks the formula for some real fancy hooch way back in 1605. The religious order was apparently comprised of French slackers (is that redundant?); they didn’t get around to producing the ritzy liqueur until 1737.

Now here’s an interesting semantic lineage: the color “chartreuse” comes from the alcoholic Chartreuse made by the monks of the Grande Chartreuse monastery in the Chartreuse Mountains.

Having said all that, nothing about chartreuse is appealing. The rotgut costs seventy-five dollars a bottle, and the color is of no interest since I’m a happy chromophobe.

9 August 2019

Insolent Meower

Kiliaen’s complaining that his meower never acknowledges his existence unless he’s feeding her.

“You’re no one until you’ve been ignored by a cat,” I observed.

“So now that Mrs. Frou Frou has tuned me out, what does that make me?” he asked.

“A no one whose cat snubs him,” I explained.

He seemed crestfallen, as if it never occurred to him in all these years that he was living with a true cat.

10 August 2019

Double Yolked Eggs

The clock said it was time for breakfast, and who was I to argue? I started to fry some eggs, and noticed that one of them had a double yolk. I wasn’t surprised, even though I went for decades without seeing such a thing: this is the fourth egg with a double yolk I’ve seen in as many days.

I haven’t given the curiosity much thought; I’m almost certainly better off not knowing what’s going on at the egg factory.

11 August 2019

Just Apply Pressure

Sid’s in trouble and I told him so.

“Relax,” he replied. “Unless someone’s bleeding, it’s not an emergency.”

“And what if someone is bleeding?” I asked.

“Just apply pressure,” he replied.

His simplistic advice amused me even though it was patently useless. Wouldn’t being on fire be some sort of emergency?

“Don’t worry about me,” he continued, “that’s the kind of thinking that got me where I am today.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

Alas ...

12 August 2019

Living Off Plants!

Gerrit’s always excited by The Next New Thing, and today is no exception. He enthused that soon he’ll be able to buy burgers that don’t contain a gram of dead animal.

I told him that I was skeptical about the prospect. Without all the artery-clogging fat, antibiotics, as well as other nasty chemicals and additives, he’s going to feel pretty stupid when he’s old and dying of nothing.

He said he didn’t care; he was too smitten by the concept that he could actually live off plants that it didn’t matter. Now here’s the really funny part: he expressed his incredulity while munching on corn chips.

I wish I could attain that sort of idiotic happiness, but I can’t. It’s a gift, and I’m hopelessly encumbered with a modicum of intelligence, no matter what any of my friends say.

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©2019 David Glenn Rinehart