It’s Coffee Time for the New Year

Stanko & Tibor - Coffee Time


Coffee Time for the New Year Hangover of 2018

As I sip my first coffee of the day, I have time to reflect on the year passing and on the coming New Year.  Yes, it’s soon 2018. Too soon? I doubt it, as 2017 has been a massive disappointment where slimmer bellies and chocolate danish consumption have  moved inversely to the desired directions I had intended when I made those patently false promises to myself back in 2014.

It has been a strange year, one for the history books. Let’s reflect.

It has been a year filled with dumps, rumps and colossal chumps, and of course Trumps.

It has been a year of fats, fat cats, and caffeine.

Killing and shooting hit new heights (or is that lows?). There was so much anger after the election of the Cheetos President that people were frothing at the mouth all over the world in every publication.

Sexual harassment in sanctimonious America finally got the headlines the topic deserves, but nothing really changed. People just acted shocked and then went about their business as they surfed the Interwebs, and watched The Great British Bake Off. (I still don’t understand why people are obsessed with this crapola, but it’s better than having people actually, you know, be active in politics or give their time to charity.)

Knowing that the 3 regular readers of this comic are either under the influence of pain killers, genetically not diverse enough to be considered truly human by reputable biologists,  or incarcerated (ok, it was actually one regular reader with that description), I know my pleas for you to read this infrequently published tome of the obvious and delirious will fall on deaf ears and people with a pupillary distance of less then 10mm (a.k.a. inbreeds).

Either way, I will have my next coffee to warm my innermost self, ponder the incoming new year of 2018, and then take a massive, life-prolonging nap. And finish it off with a life-shortening, artery-clogging, grin-inducing dinner and dessert.

Heck, if 2017 didn’t kill me, not much else can.

Pining for a warm bed and free chocolate,

Jonny Claus Druker

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