Food.
Mallard, when KFC is unveiling a chicken sandwich that is two pieces of fried chicken with bacon, cheese, and "special sauce" between them, it's pretty stupid to be suggesting that anyone is being forced to produce or eat healthy food against their will.
Also, the assumption that well-made food does not taste good would prove you were the stupidest waterfowl on the planet, had you not already done so previously.
14 comments:
If a restaurant is not to a person's liking, normally they would simply refuse to eat there again. Tinsley, meanwhile, whines about it while continuing to eat there. Sounds oddly similar to his TV-watching habits.
An obvious Golden Flash nominee. Seriously: wha? Why does the restaurant have a "stuff that doesn't taste very good" menu? And why should Mallard be ordering from it? Does this mean that items on the "stuff that DOES taste very good" menu weren't to his liking? There is no aspect of this comic that makes a lick of sense. And as usual, Tinsley wastes an entire Sunday space--that could be going to a TALENTED cartoonist--with a product that's barely substantial enough for a DAILY strip. What a useless hack.
Oh Brucie how you whine
How you whine you've lost your mind
Hey Brucie!
Hey Brucie!
Oh Brucie what's a guy like you supposed to do
When the restaurant he's at serves food that tastes like old doo-doo
Most other people would leave and go try something new
But not you, Brucie!
Screech and fling your poo, Brucie, poo Brucie
Just fling that poo Brucie!
Perhaps my local newspaper, the Poughkeepsie Journal, should go for more comics from the "Sunday-strips-that-aren't-funny-or-clever,-ever" syndication.
Swing and a miss. With no reason as to WHY she's suggesting this, there is no context, or direction, as to why is it funny or ironic that she does.
Ducks, if the wait staff is making fun of you, it's because they hate you. Maybe you should try tipping more then 10% and spending your whole meal bitching about the food.
There were so many possibilities for what your already-proven-stupidest-previously link might be, I just had to go see it for myself.
As for you, Mallard, might I recommend the duck à l'orange? (I really must remember to have him for dinner someday!)
Where is he eating?
It's a restaurant, because he's got a napkin, glass of water, and a menu.
But he seems to be occupying a lone giant sofa at an oblong table that appears to not have the settings for any other dinners.
And does the waitress have huge handwriting so that she needs an entire A4-sized notebook to write orders on? And is that a giant box of salt instead of a saltshaker on the side there?
Maybe it's the Lardbucket Diner, where everything is super-sized including your butt, and since buckets of lard don't taste very good, it would be a menu item.
I think this is another complaint about nutritional disclosure:
http://duckcover.blogspot.com/2010/03/that-damned-tie.html
Note to Mallard: Being informed about which foods are healthier is not the same as being told what you can and cannot eat.
Verification word: addle. Sometimes no further comment is necessary.
Given that ducks tend to eat grasses and insects, with the occasional stray bread crumb thrown in, I'm glad the restaurant doesn't sell food Mallard likes.
Oh, god. That big box next to him whenever he's watching TV is full of dried grubs, isn't it?
And I thought Mallard ate at that greasy spoon with the owner whose sun Mallard rolls around on the floor of his apartment with. Did he finally discover what Mallard was up to, and get a restraining order?
Pluses: The drawing of silverware wrapped in a napkin looks just like that, and Dullard actually doesn't say what he's no doubt mentally screaming, "I HATE THE GOVERNMENT FOOD POLICE!"
I went to McDonald's for the first time in a decade a while back. I thought that my Fishwich and fries were delicious, until 2 hours later when I puked them back up. Seems my body had gotten used to not eating heavily processed garbage.
Of course, I since been relentlessly hounded by the Bad Food Police. They insist that I eat more junk food, and the Gummint's behind it all! The Unhealthy Lung Police insist that I smoke 2 packs of Lucky Strikes a day! The Terrible Driver Police demand that I drink a twelve of Busch before I get behind the wheel!
WILL NO ONE SAVE ME FROM THE NONEXISTENT POLICE IN MY HEAD?!
WV: spham; what I get a lot of in my mailbox, such as "INCREASHE YOUR PHENISH SHIZE~~~Viagrash for DUCKSH!"
doubleyou-tee-eff has scooped me on what I was going to say, so I guess I'll just pull a Mallard and just stare out wordlessly for a while.
Stare.
Stare.
Stare.
Okay, I'm done. What's there to drink in this place?
WV: apertenf [n] ten apertifs
@Tog: great parody!
(Wait ... it's a parody right? Not a preview of Drinkley next "comic"?)
As for the subject of today's "comic" --- good food tastes good. If you have an attraction toward garbage food it's because you've gotten hooked on garbage, e.g. hi trash carbs and so forth that are easy and quick and bad. And you don't have the brains or self-control to do something about it.
That's Tinshley's audience: the Dare To Be Stupid crowd. Statistics suggest there will be enough of them around to keep him in kibble until his spleen chokes him.
This is the waitress' way of deflecting the conversation, after Mallard just tried ordering his tenth beer.
I gotta say, although the background resembles illumination from a police spotlight as usual, this is really well drawn for a Mallard Fillmore cartoon.
I'm reminded of stories from a hundred years ago about city kids being malnourished, and when social workers (hiss!) tried to give them wholesome food, the kids just wanted pickles and other types of quasi-food that they were used to.
(Source: The Good Old Days: They Were Terrible by Otto Bettmann -- highly recommended antidote to incontinent nostalgia)
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