poorly socialized fellow who is convinced that if he learns to perfectly replicate the art style of a long-syndicated troglodyte newspaper comic strip like Mary Worth or Beetle Bailey he will convince the artist to hire him to replace him or her (the author) when he or she dies, thus perpetuating the horror that is being desperately stuck in the '50s next to "Dear Dr. Gott" and "Star News" for all the world to see.
whenever i see those nasty-ass Dennis the Menace cartoons I taste the sour, watery brainfreeze of dairy queen treats.
waxen chocolate
death to bill keane
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