You think I can pretend that the David Jones is really David Bowie, and he requested RhinoMan in an attempt to reach out to me?
No, my meds are not expired! Stop looking at me like that! I haven't cracked, it's only the third week of school!
Onto the comic itself. So RhinoMan can afford food and a TV and pillows and a lumpy chair/loveseat thing. But this is a classic, and I'd remember a prosperous, happy RhinoMan, so this is way before the economy went in the pooper. Poor RhinoMan.
I am impressed by his flexibility, actually, though I curse Brookins' drawing skills, yet again. Is the TV set up in front of the chair, at an angle, or at the foot? If it's at the foot, he always sits like the that, and ow, my back.
And, ick, girly time, but all that grease on clothing! Not to mention that it should be hot. Unless he went dumpster diving.
It's not truly balanced, or the beer can would be on his forehead. For shame, David Bowie. Go back to your gorgeous goddess of a wife Iman and be beautifully in love together. It didn't work!
2 comments:
Dear Kaitlyn, this is actually the saddest of all the Rhinoman cartoons.
We were all so very young then. So innocent. Such happy times. What fools we were to believe they'd last forever.
I can't help but superimpose over that scene the last time we saw Rhinoman ... on a grate by the street corner ... propped up on pillows from the dumpster ... watching the "TV" he'd drawn with that dried out marker ... eating discarded TV diinners ... I just dont' think I can take it.
First it's not from David Bowie and now this horrible image!
And they just refuse to give us a snow day.
You are horrible. Happy?
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