People of Mongo: Hawk Men, Lion Men, Lizard Men, Shark Men, and women of the same: Ming is dead! Nay, as hard to believe as it may be, what once seemed impossible has come to pass. Many were the times in which my father was thought to be dead, and yet he returned: times in which he was seemingly disintegrated, only to have slipped through a trap door just at the moment of his execution; times in which he was entombed in a cell with spike-lined walls closing in on him, or the ceiling inexorably lowering, so as to crush him, only for it to turn out that there was more room than it at first looked like, so that he was able to escape; or even the time that he was trapped in a speeding automobile which plunged off a cliff in an exploding fireball, only to be revealed later that he had never been in the car at all, and that it was but a ruse.

For your Sunday enjoyment, a comic!

Breasts should not move as if they were partially filled water balloons. As much as I would like to blame the wild breasticulations in a certain caliber of video games and cartoons on a very limited grasp of anatomy, I get the distinct impression that all this bouncing and jiggling is done on purpose. And so I ask, why do you want breasts to move as if they were partially filled water balloons? They could quite literally kill someone. Or at least blacken a few eyes.

Let’s be honest with ourselves, life is really only worth living between the ages of six and sixty, after that we’re in bonus levels.