End of the YEAR
It was another year of highs and crushing lows for End of the Earth. Edmonton continues to crank out ridiculous ideas that provide great fodder for cartoonists. Here are some of my favourite scribbles from the year that was – C.H.
(Click on the small comic to read a bigger one):
Maybe the Instant Pot craze died down in 2018, but I’m a little disappointed I didn’t go all the way and mention a Instant Pot pressure-cooker bomb recipe.
The Edmonton donair debate wages on. BTW: I finally got around to trying High Voltage this year. Verdict: Not quite worth the hype. I’m a Swiss man through and through.
It feels like I make this comic every year … oh yeah, I essentially do because the Oilers have let down their fanbase consistently since End of the Earth began. Except for that one year the team made the playoffs, I can trash the Oilers without repercussions. Also, how great is that throwaway Sun front gag in the first panel?
What surprised me with this comic was how many people came out in defence of Costco. Hey suckers, Costco doesn’t need defenders, as evidenced by the overflowing parking lots and long lines of dead-eyed shoppers inside. Just let me get my ridiculously cheap hot dog and get the hell out.
Edmonton will always supply me with comic ideas, what with its predilection for the dumbest things mankind has every conceived, such as a gondola. Oh yes, we all know city council will be approving that damn gondola once it comes up for debate.
Once again End of the Earth was ahead of the curve with this parody of Bill Benson and Bob the Angry Flower. Now we’re comic buddies at GigCity (RIP Spew Weekly).
Y’all ready for Jason Kenney to outlaw purple shirts in Alberta?
This idea still waits for a brilliant Edmonton chef to bring to life. All I ask is that it’s named after me and/or I get free green onion caked donairs for life.
Not the first time I lovingly-created my childhood north-side haunt, Londonderry Mall.
Another based-on-sad-but-true events. I can’t sing, so naturally at karaoke I choose rap songs. Those don’t go over well either, but are a lot more fun (for me.) My wife issued a no-rapping ultimatum when she accompanies me to karaoke, so if you ever want to see me bust some rhymes make sure it’s a night when she stays far away.
If 2018 brought us nothing of importance, let it be known as the year Gritty was unleashed upon the world.
