We’re bunnies. And we’re bad.

Up to the point where it conflicts our bunny-ness.

Over the Hedge: way over explaining itself since 1995.

This has been another MTV Speculative Fiction Rock History minute. Music Television with absolutely no music.

Of course, that would require him to stop living in 1992.

Watch the swamp rats in the ZZ Top beards as they peer dumbfounded into the lens of fly-ver America’s inability to comprehend that a person can be smart, funny, wealthy and southern all at the same time.

The boys aren’t laughing with you. They’re laughing at you.

All the way to the bank.

But I’m beeting a dead horse.

Obsessive Climbing Disorder.

While Michael Bay suffers from a different form of OCD…

Obsessive Crap Disorder.

Q: How do you tune bag pipes?

A: With earplugs.

Wearing oven mitts of course.

And properly grounded.

You might like it too!

Available at fine bookstores everywhere and on Amazon online.

Her hat’s cool though.

…the lazy cartoonist rationalized to his partner, the other lazy cartoonist.

Mom is so proud.

NOW!

Personally I think making it Nitrous is a joke too far. But what do I know?

The Giants have a great team. Buster, Big Panda, Timmy and Matty are just plain fun to watch.  They’re struggling this season with their usually dominant pitching, but they’ve somehow found ways to win anyway. I think Bochy is the best manager in baseball.

So next time you say baseball is boring watch a Giants game. Something wonderful will happen at some point and until then you can always drink beer and wonder why you can’t play third base when you’re just as big as Big Panda.

Or give.

Hammy is the furry exclamation point when you cheer…

WO-HOO!

Now that’s special.

For some reason a line in the second panel from Hammy (after God’s line) was left out by T.

Hammy: I’m a fig-newton of imagination!

Strip works okay without it. But it works better with it. Set’s up God’s line in third panel.

And it certainly makes Hammy much more special.

I don’t believe in some omniscient supernatural being who intrudes in the affairs of one teeny-tiny planet among billions of habitable planets among trillions of stars.

What I do believe is that we are all God(s).  Within each of us resides a conscience (or a best version of ourselves).  This “higher us” is a biochemical result of our upbringing, experience and education. We can choose to listen and emulate the “angels of our better selves” or not.

God talks to me all the time. I try to listen carefully but…

…it’s hard to talk and listen at the same time.

Dr. Wayne Fiscus: I have a hunch.

Dr. Mark Craig: So did Quasimodo.

I guess it’s not important.

The truth is, I didn’t write it, so I don’t know if it’s important or not.

Sometimes I hate having a collaborator.

And no, I don’t know why they don’t use just any other old bush. It’s a mystery. All good comic strips should have them.

Apologies.

Of course, we’re supposed to have an editor to correct these things, but he was probably distracted after he went into shock when he saw we used you’re correctly in the second panel.

One out two ain’t bad.

I worry about T. I really do.