...reduce the chances of them being read. Now, get some comments going, and, sure, I'm going to read them. Again, sure, maybe I'll scroll down to the comments first, just to see how Mr. Camfield is …
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...reduce the chances of them being read. Now, get some comments going, and, sure, I'm going to read them. Again, sure, maybe I'll scroll down to the comments first, just to see how Mr. Camfield is irking and offending the various respondents, each willing to sign in, realizing that means giving up their email addresses (at the least), actually giving a given name (sometimes).
Anyway, not expecting any negativity, here's another rejected cartoon (yeah, I do know, but we're talking about not getting into the "New Yorker," so, no overly ashamed, and still hopeful):
Oh, and, again, if you have any criticism, please continue to direct your ire toward Mr. Tom Camfield. SO...
...Wait. In browsing through the choices, I came across this one which I didn't (because one can only submit ten at a time, once a month) even send. Not because of the drawing, but because of my inability to come up with a clever, punchy, easily-understood caption. The woman has, and maybe too much of this is in my mind rather than on the page and in the image, already irritated the barista with an ornate order, or, perhaps with a haughty attitude, and now she is offending her co-worker (I'm thinking subordinate) by assuming he wants plain coffee (or again, maybe it's just her condescending attitude).
IF you have a snappier line that fits, sign in (real or fake name) and reveal it. And thanks. Oh, and for more fun, check out my surf-centric site, realsurfers.net. Any apologies necessary to Mr. Camfield are in my mind, and, okay, sorry for any shifting of anything negative to you.