Month: February 2011

Em oi! #339: Politics

That's what Marie Antoinette said.

File under JF1525.P6 L86 2011, for Political institutions and public administration (General)—Public administration—Special topics, A-Z–Political planning. Public policy.

I was going to write some funny stories about the protests (which are still going on downtown a week and a half after this conversation happened), my colleagues, or the dog, but I’m actually pretty tired and in a hurry.  The dog learned to climb stairs last night and has been sulking all morning because we won’t let her go upstairs and eat the cat food.  Why she wants the cat food instead of her puppy chow is a mystery, as are a lot of things dog-related.  We’re working on it though.  She’s getting much better at going to the bathroom in the right spots.  Now if only we could get her to stop howling when we crate her…

Advice, internets?  We will try almost anything.

Em oi! #338: Un metier nouveau?

The tallest man in France.

We’ll file this one under:
HF1543 .L86 2011
For:
Commerce–International economic relations–Other regions or countries–Europe–France–General works (Historical and descriptive).

Sometimes, at the end of the week I feel like curling up into a little ball and letting it all wash over me until it’s the weekend and all I have to do is easy things like run twenty-eight miles and read three thousand pages.  Walker’s new plan to totally screw anyone who works for the state of WI and is in a union is also terrific.  Le sigh.

Sorry this comic took so long.  I just had a weird block ab0ut it; eventually I didn’t even want to look at it anymore.  So yesterday I queued up an episode of “The Dog Whisperer” and just did it.  AND here it is.

Anyway, it’s a true story.  If you are wondering what old French ladies buy at the supermarket, the answer is shrimp, some kind of soft cheese, and non-alcoholic beer.  In panel two where I addressed her to make sure B was getting the right beer down, she looked very confused as to why I was speaking to her.  I don’t think she understood that he didn’t speak any French (I mean, fair’s fair, we were standing around a Carrefour in a Paris suburb).  Later at the post office a woman apologized for the weather (it was raining, hence the umbrella) and gave me a postal calendar as a souvenir.

Ok, on to new comics.  Next week perhaps we’ll catch up to what has happened in my life since we got home from Paris.