The time you travel a rainbow highway to a far corner of the universe, don’t thank Odin, thank a dwarf.
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Comic
333 comics.
The Rainbow Transportation System is the most extensive transportation system in the multiverse. Not only does the RTS connect the nine worlds, but also the 11 dimensions, the seven planes of existence, the five elements, and the three acts of Aristotelian dramatic structure. Its extensive system of rainbow bridges, highways, portals, and wormholes can take you down the street to Grandma’s house or off this planet to the farthest reaches of the universe where time and space are still expanding. The Rainbow Transportation System makes the United States Interstate Highway system look like a couple of measly ant trails and the Pyramids of Egypt like triangular mouse turds. Even the Chinese in their wildest earth-moving construction fantasies cannot imagine such magnificent public works. Forget high speed rail, supersonic jets, and plutonium powered rockets… this is the real deal! So saddle up your eight legged horse and go for a real ride when the Rainbow gets connected in your village.
Frigg is worried sick about Baldur. He’s been gone to Midgard for several weeks now without sending a message home. Frigg knows her son is naive in the ways of the world, and being in the care of Uncle Loki only makes things worse.
And nevermind the hype about elves being an enlightened, noble race. Hitchhiking elves will rob you blind!
Walpurgis has arrived. The time of the year when humans lift their heads from the melting muck of winter to pay respect to the gods of spring. A day of great reverence and respect for the gods. And of getting loaded.
Odin shall prove the respect of the humans with the May Day Hangover.
Happy Walpurgis, Beltane, Valborg, Vappu… Spring. Ride your horse responsibly and please don’t barf on my shoes.
In honor the beginning of Spring, Odin has decided to give the humans a respite from his temper and wrath. For one week only he shall not disintegrate another human being, no matter what the offense. No insult is too grave, no words too harsh. But the music of Joni Mitchell… that might be another story.
I’m not sure why atheists would be summoned to participate in a week of blasphemy, since they don’t believe in god or gods in the first place, but it seemed funny to me. Kind of like something you would see in a Chick Comic. “Hey, Fred, lets go hang out with the atheists and blaspheme.” “Right, Mike, bring your dungeons and dragons books so we can summon the devil at the same time.”
Regarding Joni Mitchell… I completely understand why some people cannot handle listening to, say, Napalm Death. Or Emperor. Or Slayer. Hence, such music is generally not played in doctor’s offices, supermarkets, or places where the insane are convalescing. Yet Joni Mitchell is also capable of creating feelings of gut wrenching anxiety and despair for many people in this world, and gets played routinely in all those places. Okay, I’m not sure about insane asylums, but I wouldn’t doubt it. Why the double standard?
Since I arrived in Sweden, I’ve been seeing tulips everywhere. First in the grocery stores, and now waging battle against the receding snow from patches of earth outside. They are hardy flowers to be sure. However, I have yet to see any tulips with extensible stems of this capacity. Probably because the telescopic tulip is only found in Asgard. And high quality elfshit fertilizer not yet available on Midgard.
Speaking of fertilizer made from sentient creatures, I was a little shocked when I first started learning about “designer excrements” available for purchase. Sure, everyone knows about cow manure, but how about milorganite? It’s a fancy term for the processed shit of the city of Milwaukee. They whip up a similar concoction from the turds of Boston. You can’t help but wonder if a little bit of the city character winds up in such brews. People in Milwaukee drink a lot of beer, so I imagine their shit is good for growing barley and hops. Boston is a city of colleges, so it’s probably good for growing those fancy kinds of lettuce you find in the supermarket nowadays. Elves, on the other hand, are creatures of magic, so elfshit is undoubtedly your best medium for growing mysterious flowers, man-sized carnivorous plants, and of course, psychotropic “magic” mushrooms.
Today’s toon is based on the wisdom of Skald Thorgrim Silkbeard:
The difference between
A dragon and a rabbit
Is one of perspective.
The last rant of the sprout:
Is this really the best you can come up with? Eating me? How absolutely unimaginative! Surely this demonstrates the limits of your mindless species. I gleefully fart oxygen in your face, bramble tyrant. I cordially invite you to hump your own sister. Pardon me, you already humped your own sister. And your own mother. And everyone else in your family, hence the massive population of your insipid species.
I pray to the Norse gods of agriculture that my petals leave a foul taste in your mouth and my stem gives you terrible indigestion. May Freyr curse you with several weeks of chronic diarrhea for partaking in your delightful meal. Hesitate not, rabbit, devour me now! The thought of creating ceaseless mayhem in your stomach delights me so!
Enjoy your snack. For someday you shall meet a fate more terrible than mine. I laugh at you from the salad plate as the gods spread lingonberry jam over your barbecued corpse and young maidens pad their bras with your soft fur —
ULP. GURGLE. CHOKE.
The belligerent glacial lilly rallies his brothers and sisters to rise with him and conquer new lands. But lo, what is this… the Great Beast of the Cloudberry Bush has awoken. Come hither, foul creature, and taste the sharp edge of the pistil blade.
Odin rewards valor, and thankfully our little sprout friend now has a permanent seat at the salad bar in Valhalla. Remember, one man’s dragon is another man’s rabbit. Or a plant’s rabbit. Or something like that…
American tax day tomorrow. Good luck, folks.
The Glacier Lilly Prayer
Hear me, great earth!
Far too long I have lay in waiting.
The melt of the avalanche has given strength to my petals.
Torrrents of mighty chlorophyl course through my veins.
Soon my brothers shall join me.
We shall spread across the earth in an orgy of propagation and slaughter.
– Thane Bob Grimword
Meanwhile, in Asgard, a tiny shoot of life answers the first call of spring. A delicate flower creeps its way towards the sun. Until finally…
