The Era -- Day By Day

[LizzieMaine]

("Are ye sure," queries Uncle Frank, helping Sally into a kitchen chair, "that ye want t'stay heeere? Wooldn't ye be maaar coomforable at oor -- ah --ye moothar's place? Faaar th' toime bein', that is?" "Oh, no," interrupts Ma, "Oi'm sure it's bettar farr ye t' be in ye own hoom, aroond familiar things. Doctar Levine said she'd coom by an' check in regular, isn't that so." "Yeh," nods Sally, taking a deep breath as she looks around her kitchen. "Wheh's Stella?" she asks. "Th' Krauses been lookin' aftar'er," replies Ma. "An' Mistarr Krause said he'd been coomin' by here t'keep an' oye aaah th' apartment here. Emptyin' ye ice box pan, throoin' oot spaaarled food, keepin' things joost so." "Th' oiceman was heer this marrnin'," adds Uncle Frank, an' we staaahped by th' grocer this marrnin' an' got ye milk an' bread and all. Krause staahped th' milk d'livery whoile ye was -- ah -- away, but he said he'd call Renken's this marrnin' an' starrt it oop again. An' ye mail is tharr on th' table." "Ah," nods Sally with a sigh. "Letteh fr'm Joe. Musta wrote it befoeh -- I was away." "Ye can look at ahhl that latarr," bustles Ma, shooing away a persistent fly. "Smells funny," declares Leonora, wrinkling her nose and adding a decisive "Yuck!" "Ah," nods Ma. "Ye -- ah -- had some cabbage in th' box tharr that went bad. Mistarr Krause doon th' best he could, boot we'll wanna give it a good scroobin' oot with vinegar an' ahhl." "Yeh," sighs Sally, glancing across the kitchen at the peg by the door, where Joe's cap and windbreaker still hangs. "S' now what?" she wonders out loud. "Well, now ye joost take it easy f'ra while," suggests Ma. "Look thar, ye got magazines t'read, y'got th' radio. Thar's some good stories ahhn th' radio this toime a' day, maybe listen in ahhn sooma those, an' later aaahn ye can listen to th' baseball game." "Meh," mehs Sally. "Did Alice say anyt'ing about my jawb?" "Ye needn't worry 'boot that," assures Uncle Frank. "She's -- ah -- pooled some strings with th' plant managaar ovar tharr, an' they know it's easier t'bring back a trained waaarker than it is t'hoire an' train a new one. Ye can goo back when ye ready. An' doon't worry aboot money, we depaaasited Joe's last allaatment check far ye, an' -- ah -- soom additional payments that -- ah -- came in..." Ma shoots Uncle Frank a look, and from behind his fatherly smile he brushes her off. "Ahhl ye gaaht t'do," he continues, "is waaark on gett'n well." "Docteh Levine says maybe I c'n try goin' back t'woik inna week 'a so, d'pendin' on what happn's wit' t' medicine," replies Sally. "I feel stupid jus' sittin'eeeh." "Mistarr Krause will bring ye cat back oop t'ye t'night," assures Ma, "woonce ye get settled. An' Mrs. Ginsburg said ye an' Leonora aaahr invoited to go downstairs t'night t'have ye suppar with them." "Yeh," sighs Sally. "Ahhl roit then," concludes Ma, "Oi really moost get back t'th'store. Oi left Jimmy in charge, an' ye know how he loikes t'goozle down th' Coca-Cola. Come along, Francis." "Take care'a ye'self, choild," adds Uncle Frank, as they head to the door. "Yeh," sighs Sally, fingering the obsolete letter from Joe. "I'll be fine. Yeh.")

A billion dollars to beautify postwar Brooklyn has been set aside by the New York City Planning Commission, according to Commission member Cleveland Rodgers, who sketched out highlights of the program before the Brooklyn Kiwanis Club yesterday, and followed up with a detailed outline today for the Brooklyn Eagle. The plan is headed by the long-awaited replacement of the Raymond Street Jail, and will also see new construction of schools, hospitals, and parks across the borough. A total of seventeen new elementary and junior high schools will be built at a total cost of $23,067,472, along with four new vocational high schools. Brownsville will receive a new general hospital as one of six new health centers to be constructed, and a new sewage disposal system will insure that "the waters around the harbor can again be useful and healthful." Local landmarks to see improvement include Brooklyn College, Kings County Hospital, the Central and Montague Street branches of the Public Library, the Botanic Garden, the Children's Museum, and the Brooklyn Bridge. "These are all new things," assured Rodgers, "intended to make Brooklyn a better place for its citizens."

(Joe E. Brown and Martha Raye -- in the same picture. Imagine.)

(NO, I don't think so.)

(Sorry, they're all in the Quartermaster Corps.)

(Hey look, Frenchy's growing his moustache back! And I bet the beret will go well with the satin jammies!)

Leo Durocher is officially off the active player roster, following the signing of rookie pitcher Clyde King from off the campus of the University of North Carolina. Leo needed to free up a roster spot tomake way for the righthander,and accomplished that by deleting himself. It is rumored that King was presented with a hefty bonus check by Branch Rickey in exchange for his signature on a Brooklyn contract. He is the fourth teen-age pitcher to be signed by the Dodgers this month.

Liquid stockings are banned in certain Brooklyn schools, and a hundred girls who broke the prohibition on leg makeup at a private school in Flatbush have been "isolated" by the school administration. Bobby socks are also prohibited at this school, as are lipstick and rouge. Such prohibitions are not on the books in the borough's public high schools, with girls permitted to use makeup as they please provided they do so "with discretion." An administrator at Bay Ridge High School says that for the most part, girls cooperate with the "with discretion" clause, although an attempt at discouraging the wearing of slacks was ignored by the students and ultimately abandoned.

(Do you get the feeling that Barry has -- ah -- other inclinations?)

(George has read every Perry Mason novel.)

(A fixed horse race??? IMPOSSIBLE!)

(Scarlet's been working out.)

(Of all our strips, this is the one I would least expect to go down this particular road.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News....

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! But, seriously, somebody please do something for that poor cabbie.

And to prove he's serious, the Mayor wrote his speech on his shirt cuff.

"Evening in Paris is nice, but a bit heavy for daytime."

Ol' Squint is a sho-nuff Arizona cowboy Walt and Skeezix met on a cross-country road trip in 1924. And he's too much of a pardner to ask Walt how he got so fat.

Eh. At this age, I wore everybody's hand-me-downs.

See, not all crooks are as dumb as that guy who tried to do this at the Sugar Bowl.

JEEZY JERK! JEEZY JERK! JEEZY JERK!

"But you paid so much for those teeth!" "Don't worry, I've got a spare set in my dressing room!"

Um.

Plushie conquered himself? Maybe that's his whole problem.

 

[FOXTROT LAMONT]

Caniff has a way with words. Still, as long as Burms strips off less dialogue is best.

 

[St. Louis]

This is fascinating, thanks. I have a question about high school girls' footwear. If liquid leg makeup and bobby socks were forbidden, what would they have worn? I'm assuming that regular dressy stockings would have been expensive. Were they wearing service-weight stockings? Aren't bobby socks basically anklets? Or are cotton Buster-Brown style anklets different?

 

[LizzieMaine]

Given that these were private schools, probably religious, most likely they would have been required to wear either heavy cotton stockings or knee-high socks. The latter were au courant on college campuses in 1941, but not so much in 1944.

PS -- Good to see you joining us in this thread!!

 

[Fading Fast]

I had a similar question running through my head @St. Louis , so I'm very glad you asked yours. I was particularly wondering what they had against bobby socks, other than that the bare leg would be exposed up to the bottom of the skirt.

It's funny that Lizzie noted that knee-high socks were on there way out of fashion at colleges by '44, as in the '50s, they had made a comeback at least at "the Seven Sisters," but this time paired with Bermuda shorts - a look you'll see in many movies from the '50s set on college campuses.

 

[Fading Fast]

Oh my.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Knee socks were very much a "Seven Sisters" thing during their early-forties vogue, especially at Smith. But I bet you didn't see them too much at Brooklyn College.

I imagine the bobby-socks trend was frowned upon for its "bobby soxer" connotation -- loud, aggressive young women with a bent for screaming at crooners. They never wore socks like that at the Paramount in 1931.

 

[FOXTROT LAMONT]

I had a similar question running through my head @St. Louis , so I'm very glad you asked yours. I was particularly wondering....

View attachment 622409

I see. A bit sartorial inquisitiveness or ah, well never mind my salacious suppose Fast.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Maybe ye roit aftar all," muses Uncle Frank, gazing at the screamer headline as Ma clips the wire on the bundle of Eagles and tosses them with a well-practiced flip, onto the rack in front of the store. "Ye mooth t'Gaaahd's ear," nods Ma. Uncle Frank selects a paper from the top of the stack and carries it inside, as Ma shoots him a glance. "That's three cents to you, Mistarr Leary," she growls. "Oi ain't roonin' a charity." Uncle Frank chuckles, fishes in his vest pocket for a nickel, and flips it to Leonora, who frowns back at him as she draws it to her stack. "Keep the change," he adds with a barely suppressed grin. "Where *is* Sally? " he queries. "Farr soomeone who's s'pos'ta be restin' she doon't seem t'be takin' too well to th' advice." "She said she was gooin' t'th' baahlgame this afternoon," Ma shrugs. "'Anythin' t'get oota th' hoose,' she said. Doctarr Levine came ovarr this marrnin' an' checked on 'arr, an' told'aar it was aaahl roit. Oi'm not sure what t'think'a that wooman." "Oi'm not sure," Uncle Frank observes, "she knoows what t'think'a YOU." "Oi'd joost'a soon she didn't think'a me at'ahhhl," grumbles Ma. "Oi don't poot much troock in these psychia-whatchacoolit's. They aaahsk too many questions, an' they look at ye loike they aahlready knoow ahhl th' answers. Which remoinds me, did ye have th' boys check oop on harr?" "She's joost what she says she is, Nora," sighs Uncle Frank. "Oi told ye that before. Lena Levine, M. D.. She was what'chee cawl a -- you know, a dooctar far feemale praaahblms, an' then she took oop this psychiatrics a few yarrs back. She useta wroite articles farr diff'rent paparss an' magazines, sooma these baarth coontrol papars..." Ma's eyes flare. "Aaan she's aaahlso whatchee caahl a 'marriage counselaar,'" Uncle Frank adds. "Oi been thinkin' pr'aps WE should..." "You moind ye place, Francis Leary," huffs Ma, holding up her left hand. "Oi don't see no ring." "Oi didn't see one laaast noit, eitharr," snickers Uncle Frank. "What?" snaps Ma. "Noothin'...")

Refugees trudging thru American lines describe the German retreat from Cherbourg as "a spectacle of abject misery. " Motor and horse-drawn vehicles clog the roads, it is reported, with hungry Nazi infantrymen stumbling along cursing everyone, including Hitler. Only a few of the younger soldiers, it is said, maintain any of the old Nazi swagger, and even they are growing demoralized as they search the skies for a Luftwaffe that never appears. Prisoners taken by American forces confirm the dismal morale among the Germans, telling their captors that they resent having been abandoned to their fate by Berlin.

("SPPPPPPPPPT!" erupts Leonora, before adding a short, emphatic Anglo-Saxonism to punctuate her thought. "Whaaaaaar'd ye laaaaarn THAT?" gasps Ma, as Uncle Frank dissolves in helpless laughter.)

(As long as he's happy.)

The continuing rubber shortage means continuing woes for American women who are finding it difficult to impossible to replace worn-out girdles, and the concern is especially strong among war workers, who, accustomed to wearing the garments for support, find it difficult to endure a full day of strenous labor without them. "It is vital to the success of the war effort that women remain in their jobs," declares Mary Anderson, director fo the Women's Bureau of the U. S. Department of Labor, and she urges that those who own serviceable foundation garments do all that is possible to maintain them in wearable condition for as long as is possible. Those who do not absolutely require the garments should not attempt to buy new ones, thus leaving as many as possible available for women war workers who do need them.

Members of the Women's Army Corps are now authorized to carry arms when the duties they perform require them to do so. For example, WACs serving as paymasters are required by their job to carry a .45 automatic pistol for security purposes, and those issued such weapons must be trained to strip and maintain the guns, and to qualify on the firing range just as any male soldier would.

(The kids Mr. Rickey didn't sign.)

("HEY KID!" rasps the gravelly voice of Hilda Chester, as Sally makes her way carefully down the steep concrete steps of Section 37 as the Dodgers take batting practice on the field below. "G'wan, ya bum," commands Hilda, addressing a paunchy middle-aged fan in a sleeveless undershirt. "Go sit oveh t'eh. Give a lady ya seat." "T'anks," shrugs Sally, taking the proffered spot as its previous occupant slinks to another row. "How ya been?" grins Hilda. "Ain' seenya 'roun much t'is yeeh." "Ahhh," dismisses Sally. "Been woikin' -- uh -- an' I been inna hospital f'ra bit" "Oh yeh?" replies Hilda. "I been inna hospital a few times. Bum tickeh, y'know? T'is buncha bums 'is yeeh break anybody's hawrt. T'at Stanky t'ough, he's OK." "Yeh," nods Sally, shifting against the hard wooden seat in an attempt to get comfortable. "Reminds ya of ya boy Coscarawrt, huh?" laughs Hilda. "I remembeh how ya useta holleh PETEY! PETEY! wheneveh he'd come up. Heh! Awmos' as loud as me!" "Yeh," shrugs Sally. "Hey," ventures Hilda, "what's witchoo? Y'don' seem y'self. Hey, how's ya fella t'eh, how's Joe?" "Awrmy took'im," sighs Sally. "He's downa Marylan', loinin' t'be a cook.' "A cook!" snorts Hilda. "Hey, now, t'at's swell! A fella t'at cooks! No home should be wit'out one! Afteh t'wawr, kid, ya gonna be sitt'n pretty!" "Yeh," sighs Sally. "HEY LEO!" bellows Hilda, observing Durocher poking his head out of the Dodger dugout. "GO GET'M!" she roars, swinging her bell to punctuate her remarks. "Ya gotta keep up t'eh spirits," declares Hilda, as she resumes her seat. "It's a lousy team an'nis is a lousy yeeh, but t'ey ain' gonna do nut'n if t'ey don' know we'eh wit'm. Leo gets whatchacawl d'pressed, y'know? He don' like t'let awn, but I know 'im, y'know. He's whatchacawl sensitive. Remembeh when Reiseh hit t'at wawl? Leo tol' me he bawled like a lit'l goil. Oh, hey, speakin'a which -- how's yawr little goil? Leonoreh?" "A han'ful," sighs Sally. "I bet," nods Hilda, gazing off across the outfield. "I had a lit'l goil once," she recalls, an edge of wistfulness cutting thru the grit of her voice. "Awl grown up now," she adds after a long pause. "Lives out wes'. Hey, y'know, she plays bawl too, in one'a t'em goil's leagues t'ey got out t'eh." Sally nods politely, but offers no further reply. Hilda is also silent, bobbing her head along with a bouncy tune issuing from Miss Goodding's organ booth. "Hilda," resumes Sally. "Lemme ask y'sump'n." "Sueh kid," replies Hilda. "What's awn ya min'?" "Hilda," Sally continues. "Awr you -- happy?" Hilda absorbs the question, fingering the handle of her bell as she considers it. "Happy," she shrugs. "Innis woil', kid, what's happy? I'm breat'in, ain' I? I'm wheah I am, ain' I? I got what I got, ain' I? Izzat happy? What's happy? You tell me?" "I dunno," Sally sighs. "I guess 'at'sa pernt. I jus' dunno...")

("But I don't even LIKE women!" protests Barry. "Um, that's not what I mean, but...um... can we start over?")

(I hear Mike Todd is trying to option it for his new girlfriend.)

(Liquid stockings for horses? I think I read about it in '"Mademoiselle.")

(These science museums are very competitive.)

(That's it, Flannery -- work off some of that backside and maybe they'll transfer you back to Brooklyn.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

"Look, Chili, far be it from me to be a buttinsky, but if you keep carrying on like this, you'll never get to be Miss Rheingold." -- Jinx.

SEE THE GROWING CHILD shove her damn bowl on the floor and demand Rice Krispies.

"Hey Tracy, what's with all these sailors?"

Hey Burms, should you do something about your visible roots?

"Ha! How long's it been since you washed that dog?"

Stick around, Ging, I think Trixie's still single.

"Huh. What's 'arraigned' mean?"

Ask Jon Stardust about that.

A mooching contest? Get your bets down, gang!

Didn't know Emmy used to be in show biz, did you? Always keep a stack of headshots handy!

 

[LizzieMaine]

And finally...

"Well, if you won't take me seriously, I won't try to help you." -- Jinx.

 

[Fading Fast]

"Look, Chili, far be it from me to be a buttinsky, but if you keep carrying on like this, you'll never get to be Miss Rheingold." -- Jinx.

"Well, if you won't take me seriously, I won't try to help you." -- Jinx.

Always nice to hear from one of our favorites.

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"Burma's gonna be tough to whip today."

Caniff chooses his words like a surgeon operates with a scalpel.

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"Ha! How long's it been since you washed that dog?" - anonymously posted by Bo

 

[Trenchfriend]

@LizzieMaine
I would like to know, what Quaker's Special Toasting Process on cereals is.

 

[LizzieMaine]

I would suspect that it's the same as any other process for manufacturing rolled oats in which the grains are roasted or toasted slightly before they go under the rolling machinery, except that it's "Special." Never trust a Boy from Marketing, even if he *is* a Quaker.

 

[FOXTROT LAMONT]

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"Burma's gonna be tough to whip today."

Caniff chooses his words like a surgeon operates with a scalpel.

***********************************************************************

I'm thinking Terrence saw her nude when she changed into that gorilla Air Corps suit.
So, Burms did the full Monty and then went down a conscience mine shaft?
I enjoy all Milt's betwix-the-lines innuendo but it's confusing like hell.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Heh!" hehs Alice, as she and Sally seek to escape the humid early evening funk hanging like a damp blanket over Bensonhurst by taking their seats on the front stoop. "Y'see t'is heeh? Rudy Vallee's gett'n divoeced. Two time loseh. Awr is it t'ree, I f'get. Anyways, ya dodged a bullet onnat one, din'cha? Heh!" "Meh," mehs Sally, gazing out at Leonora, absorbed in the text she is scrawling on the sidewalk with a fragment of old brick. "Whas' she writin' out t'eh, anyways?" wonders Alice. "Prob'ly copyin' billboehds again," shrugs Sally. "She does'at awla time. Yeh, see t'eh? Looks like it says 'Yawr Invasion Too! Fi't Wawr Loan Drive.'" "Ah," nods Alice, gazing down 63rd Street at the matching billboard, showing a helmeted G I plunging thru the surf. "She otta try'n drawr t'pitcheh t'go wit' it." "She was drawrin' pitchehs las' night," Sally replies. "She drew a pitcheh of 'eh Pa, an' Stella, an' 'neh gran'ma, an' Uncle Frank. An' even little Willie t'eh." Sally pauses before resuming with a sigh. "Didn't draw no pitcheh'ra me t'ough." "Well, she didn' need to," observes Alice. "Right? I mean, you was sit'n right 'teh." "Yeh," acknowledges Sally. "Means a lot t'wa kid t'have 'eh Ma right t'eh," continues Alice. "Take it from me." Sally glances over at her friend and nods in acknowledgement. "Hey," adds Alice, injecting a fast change of subject, "speakin' a which, y'know, school's lett'n'out soon, an' Willie's gonna be movin' in wit' me an' Siddy. You otta see how excited Siddy is, he's been runnin' aroun' awl week makin' sueh ev'ryt'ing's jus' so. You eveh see Siddy when'nee gets awl woiked up? Toppav'is head. y'know, weh t'eh ain'no haieh onneh, toppav'is head toins awl poiple." This gets a small smile out of Sally in response, encouraging Alice to press onward. "Y'know what else he done?" she enthuses. "He took some'a t'at ol' wood we got down'neh, an'nee made t'is little woikbench, jus' t'right size, an'nee got a buncha t'ese lit'l tools, kid-size, y'know, an'nee says 'I got me a lit'l apprentice! Yeh!' You know, like he awrways says 'yeh.'" "Yeh," nods Sally. "Yeh!" laughs Alice, "jus' like t'at!")

French resistance fighters have occupied several localities along the Swiss border in eastern France, and have tied up elements of several German divisions. Patriot groups, including units of the famous Maquis raiders, are "contributing directly to the success of Allied operations in Normandy by disrupting enemy transport," commented General Dwight D. Eisenhower in a communique from Allied headquarters. The general called the resistance activity "one of the greatest behind-the-lines actions in military history."

German shock troops have stalled the advance of the British 8th Army in central Italy, with a series of savage counterattacks on a 25-mile front north and west of Perugia, but other Allied forces are sweeping northward with increasing speed along both the Tyrrhenian and Adriatic coasts. A communique from Allied headquarters revealed that crack German rear guards have turned on their pursuers in the hill country surrounding Perugia in what appears to be the first concerted enemy stand since the Germans fled from Rome.

(Wait, are those antique Belgian paving blocks?)

Enlisted sailors with drive and ambition have a greater chance than ever before of earning officer's commissions. Since Pearl Harbor, 45 percent of all Navy commissions issued have gone to enlisted men rising from the ranks, and Navy officials now indicate that the majority of newly-commissioned officers will be drawn from among qualified enlisted sailors. The only officers now expected to be commissioned from civil life will be those coming to the Navy from such professions as medicine, dentistry, and the clergy, along with selected young men qualified as aviation cadets.

(Mr. Watson, a character actor of small renown before the war, is Hollywood's pre-eminent Hitler impersonator. When he appears as der Fuehrer in a serious role, he is billed as "Robert" Watson. When he plays Hitler as a slapstick comedy character, as in "The Devil With Hitler" and "The Nazty Nuisance," he is known as "Bobby".)

The Eagle Editorialist gives his unqualified endorsement to the New York City Planning Commission's billion-dollar postwar program of new public construction for Brooklyn. "Brooklyn must be a community," declares the EE, "where families are proud to live."

("No, we were just playing pinochle with the guy from the WLB.")

Former Dodger scout Larry Sutton has died at the age of 85. Sutton, who retired from his baseball career in 1935, was a key figure in building the Dodger club that won the 1916 and 1920 National League pennants, signing such stars as Zack Wheat, Jake Daubert and Casey Stengel, and is also responsible for bringing Dazzy Vance to Brooklyn in 1922. Sutton remained an active Dodger fan after his retirement from the game, and until he fell into what proved to be a fatal coma last week, he never missed a Red Barber broadcast.

(Poor old Whit. I hope Rickey eases him out with greater dignity than he did Fitz. And hey, we're still waiting for Dolph Camilli Day.)

Wahoo Tommy Warren, whom you may recall as the boy wonder of Bear Mountain just a few short months ago, has walked out on the Montreal Royals, and has arrived in Brooklyn to demand an audience with Branch Rickey. Warren is expected to apply for placement on the voluntarily retired list, in hopes of passing an Army or Navy physical. Warren was discharged from the Navy after ten months of hospitalization following a battle injury at Casablanca, but is said to "crave more war action."

(I hope alll of them are sucked irretrievably into the white void. BRING BACK LEONA.)

("PARADING IN THE STREETS IN BROAD DAYLIGHT WITH THAT BOLD HUSSY!" Sorry, I miss Jo.)

(What could go wrong? Well, the horse could kick you in the face.)

(She wakes up with her hair a complete rat's nest? That's not so amazing.)

(And just like that, Random J. Pooch made a decision that would shape the rest of his life.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Y'know what would be good is a diagram of how all these various parties are connected to the Moolah Mystery. I bet Butch has one in his office, hanging on the wall, with lots of little pins and pieces of string.

"Thaaaaat dooos it!" huffs Uncle Frank. "Oi'm votin' faaaaar Dewey!" "Yarrr naht a citizen," notes Ma. Uncle Frank pauses for a moment. "Thaaaaat nivver staaahped me b'fore!"

"I think we've just been insulted!"

"Oops."

You probably shoud check the water table though.

"You're not exactly petal-fresh yourself, kid."

They gave Walt the exact same speech in 1926 and look how that turned out.

That hat, though.

What really burns him is that this guy has so much HAIR.

War is heck.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And also...

You were expecting maybe "Ulysses?"

 

[Fading Fast]

Thankfully, I think Alice knows how freakin' lucky she is to have found Krause - they don't make many like him.

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Based solely on the Daily News story, LaGuardia looks petty, spiteful and imperious - all the reasons we have mayors whose power is checked in many ways and not dictators. But again, that's based on one story, which could very well be wrong.

*************************************************************

Apparently, they are not rationing dog food, are they, Sandy?

"The ink adds ten pounds"

Sure it does.