Today’s strip was born from an inside joke that has run its course in our household. And so I bring it to you!

Both my wife Cami and I are of the thinking that TBS (AKA “The Superstation”) should just go ahead and change it’s name to “The Shawshank Network. Because no matter when we flip on the station, day or night, The Shawshank Redemption is always playing.

Don’t get me wrong. I love the movie. It’s probably up there in my Top 10. Well, Top 25 at least. But the message of the film loses a little bit of it’s magic when you’ve seen it eleventy-billion times.

Maybe that’s a long way around for a joke and maybe the payoff wasn’t that big, but dammit, I enjoy today’s strip. Hey, at least I got to try my hand at drawing the characters actually emoting without dialogue. That doesn’t happen very often around here, my friend.

I have something not movie-related that I have to get off of my chest.

Tonight I got a call from a telemarketer. Not uncommon, really. So I wasn’t upset. It some some gruff sounding dude who said he represented The Policemen’s Association (whatever that is) and that they were raising money for a shelter for kids with cancer who have been abused by priests or something. Could they count on me for my support?

We’ve gotten several calls from these jokers in the last few months and each time, we tell them “No. I won’t be handing over my hard-earned money. Would you please take our phone number off your calling list?”

Tonight was no different. I let the guy read his script then politely told him, “No, we won’t be donating. Also, we’ve received several calls from you in the past and have asked to have our number taken off your list. Could you please…”

– click! –

THAT SON OF A BITCH HUNG UP ON ME!

I don’t know why, but this really turned my crank and I flipped out. I tried to star-69 the guy, but his number was busy. I even went as far as to call the operator and asked him to give me the number of the last person who called our house so I could call this guy in the middle of the night and harass him.

And how do I know that he wasn’t calling from a cube farm somewhere? Trust me. I used to be a telemarketer. You can tell when it’s a local operation and they’re calling from their homes. It’s usually a side-income deal.

Well, anyway. I eventually decided to let it go because I realized that this is the kind of stress that causes the cancer – and I don’t need that in my life. But still. Damn…

Speaking of weird telemarketing calls, Cami received one yesterday while I was out of the house. It was some organization calling for such and such a reason and if we wanted them to take our number off their calling list, they would have to confirm our address and stuff. Naturally, Cami was suspicious of the whole thing, so this kid told her to hold for a manager. The manager gets on the line and asks for PIN number so Cami can check her messages.

What? It was the most schitzo phone experience she ever had. Of course, unlike me, Cami has the common sense to hang up. And she did.

I’m going to try and get out this weekend to see either About Schmidt, Adaptation or Chicago. I really want to see the first two, but am lukewarm on the second. We’ll see who wins the box office lottery.

One last note: No Pants Tuesday is up and running again and THANK GOD! I can’t tell you how happy I am to see Zach making strips again. I love the art and the humor and he’s a really fun guy to talk to. Plus, leaving us dangling with that Satan storyline.. well, that was just cold, man!

Anyhoo, his hiatus probably resulted in a drop off in readership. So I’m doing my part to make sure everyone knows now is the time to jump back on ship. Hey, everyone needs a little time to recharge their batteries every now and again.