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Jesus had four brothers and two sisters.

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Raging Pencils is a conceptual conceit of:

Mike Stanfill, Private Hand
Mike "Lefty" Stanfill, Private Hand
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where's the best place to make a romantic connection?

Today's mystery web comic is:

start rant

Blather, Rinse, Repeat

my brain hurtsJust so you get an idea of how my weird brain works, I've spent the entire evening drawing today's cartoon, and writing this rant, listening
to Xmas jazz on Live365.


How many of you are surprised to learn that Jesus had brothers and sisters? Come on, raise your hands.

It's a bit like learning that Santa has a brother who dabbles in real estate in Costa Rica, isn't it?

So where were these brothers when Jesus ran into trouble with the law? Seems to me he could've really used their help. I'm guessing that having a mother continually claiming her little snookie-wookums was the son of God might have eventually driven an uncomfortable wedge between Jesus and his sibs.

Good going, Mom.


On Friday the White House announced that basically everyone in the Bush administration involved with any of the various tortures they committed are off the hook, saying the Bush lawyers "exercised poor judgment".

Yes, they're innocent because they're stupid. Funny how that excuse didn't work very well for past presidential blow-jobs.

The precedent this sets is frightening. It now allows any White House lawyer to make up any ridiculous bullshit reason it wants that will allow the agents of the White House to do anything they want. I'm not too worried about this situation with the current administration but just imagine the possibilities when another conservative puppet steals the presidential crown again.

Woe unto us that day.


Imagine an island only about a mile square, sitting in the middle of nowhere, that has it's own international airport. Go to Google maps and look up the island of Male, in the Maldives. Amazing place. But not for rabble such as you or I.


After 25 years my washer finally died. I bought it brand new in 1986 when I and my then-wife moved into this house.

It didn't expire in tiny increments like many of us do, no subtle hints that its end was near, just a major mechanical coronary accompanied by the smells of burnt rubber, fried wiring and noxious lubricants.

I will miss you, my little metal Whirlpool friend. I would prefer you get a nice plot under a tree on a hill overlooking a meadow, but you're doomed to be recycled into a Hyundai. Sorry about that.

This is very bad news for me because I now have to find a replacement and I never shell out major bread for such items without researching the hell out of them. Not a chance in Hades I'm going to pay too much or get too little, believe you me.

Twenty-five years ago all I had was Consumers Reports to help me in my search for the perfect washing machine, so the decision was a no-brainer. Now I've got a zillion online sources whispering sultry, though completely contradictory advice into my ears. And modern washers have amazing new features mine never dreamed of, not to mention such pragmatic niceties as Energy Star certification.

You can even buy them on Yeek.

But in the midst of all this perplexity I discovered something pretty cool... lets you pay with Paypal.

Just think about it. I could literally trade a few tsotchkes currently cluttering up my closet, via the services of eBay, for a new washer.

And I think I will, just because it'll make a good story twenty-five years down the line.

Especially if I can get free shipping. ;^)

(Prologue: As it turns out, my trusty, rusty washing-machine pal needed nothing but a new belt. I totally screwed up the first attempt at installing it but the little guy is working fine now. Thanks for caring.)


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Raging Pencils salutes the Mystery Readers of
Hradec Králové, Czech Republic
Whoever you are, thanks for reading my ghastly little 'toon.

end rant

A blast from the reeking past. The RP from 7-16-08.

That new cross smell.

end rant

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Today's Google Chow.

Joseph with his five sons.

Caption: Some say that, as the years went on, Joseph grew perversely passive-aggressive in his role as cuckold.

Joseph: "Sayyy... you haven't met my boys yet, have you? This is Jesus. He's the "son of God". And that's James, son of "the butcher", Joseph, son of "the baker", Judas, son of "the candlestick maker"... and Simon."

Simon: "Yo, dawg."