How fitting for Milo to make the trip from Bloom County to visit our Sun City Peachtree bench. After all, he is worldly and makes a point of knowing what is going on outside of his town. Although this was a domestic trip for Milo, it often seems like another country down here in the south.
Milo is a reporter for the Bloom County’s newspaper, so perhaps he is going to write a travel story about his trip to Griffin, Georgia. His writing can be quite controversial, though, and he follows politics; so, perhaps the story will be about Georgia’s new voting laws. The thing is, Milo is known for putting quite the fictional spin on his reporting of the “facts,” so who knows how he’ll spin this story?
Well, look who strutted into town. It’s Bloom County’s cool (only in his own mind) Steve Dallas. He’s the dude women despise—or, at best, tolerate, due to his aggressive womanizing and male chauvinism.
The only friend Steve has is Opus the Penguin, who, for some reason, actually idolizes the despicable and unscrupulous lawyer. Little does Opus realize, he is being manipulated by Steve into doing his dirty work for him. Still, Opus idolizes the low-life.
There is nothing good to say about this guy who is actually (and, unfortunately) based on a real person. Bloom County’s creator, Berkeley Breathed, once said, “Steve Dallas… a frat-boy lawyer who I knew in school. He’s never written me. I suspect he was shot by an annoyed girlfriend, which save me many legal fees.”
In the early days of Bloom County, Steve Dallas would frequently hit on schoolteacher Bobbi Harlow. They dated briefly, but she left him for Cutter John, and Steve was never able to win her back. He tried to make Bobbi jealous by dating her dimwitted cousin, Quiche Lorraine, but it didn’t work.
Politically, Steve is ultra-conservative. During his teenage years, he read conservative books such as William Buckley’s, God and Man at Yale. Later, during the Reagan era, he said, “Haig and the generals should run Reagan and his liberal pack right out of the White House.”
As a lawyer, the reprehensible jerk defended psychotic and obviously guilty criminals and murderers, much to his overbearing mother’s chagrin.
Hmmm. I have never read Bloom County, but the more I learn about Steve Dallas, the more he sounds like our recent past POTUS—all except the lawyer part. Although, if our past POTUS had been a lawyer, he surely would have taken on a similar clientele.
This is where I’ll take a pass on any more research on Steve Dallas. NEXT!
Ha! A day late and a dollar short. A cat shows up after the birds have already flown off somewhere else. First, it was Woodstock, and then Toucan Sam. You missed your opportunity, Bill!
Well, Bloom County’s Bill the Cat isn’t known for hunting birds; he has had bigger aspirations than that. In 1984 and 1988, he ran for President of the United States. He didn’t win, though, thanks to his drug abuse and shenanigans. One of the times Bill lost was because he coughed up a fur ball on Connie Chung. He was also mixed up in several scandals. In one, Bill was the primary source for an illegal cat-sweat-based baldness cure. Then, his brain was replaced with Donald Trump’s (who had been hit with his yacht’s anchor while sunbathing in New York Harbor). That explains it all…
What drove Bill to abusing drugs? A psychoanalyst may reach back into Bill’s past as far as his birth. After all, the orange cat was the illegitimate son of Garfield the cat, and we all know about Garfield…
Born in Dubuque, Iowa, Bill grew up wanting to be a film star, so he moved to New York City, and starred in a few films, including, Terms of Bill’s Endearment. Like many actors, though, Bill drank heavily and got into drugs. Eventually, it was all about sex, drugs, and rock & roll, when he became a rock and roll musician.
Wild Bill was unpredictable, made poor decisions that never ended well for him, did random and extreme things, and had a string of love affairs with celebrities. His career as a rock star was ruined due to reading the bible with nun Edith Drock. Being the opportunistic cat that he was, though, he used it to become a TV evangelist and got even richer.
Unfortunately, Bill let it all go to his head and get the best of him. He spiraled out of control with his drug use; and, on September 30th, 1983, drove his Ferrari into a cactus at 140 mph and died on impact. His body was never found, though, so Blinky and Milo Bloom released his death as being caused by acne(!).
By now, you may be thinking to yourself that those previously listed dates don’t add up. Bill died in 1983, but ran for President in 1984 and 1988? How can that be? Well, let me tell you! Oliver Wendell Jones found Bill’s tongue and used his “DNA doohickeys” to successfully clone Bill, just in time for the 1984 presidential election!
Here’s an ironic bit of trivia in the real world: Bloom County creator, Berkeley Breathed, described “Bill D. Cat” as his attempt to create a character so repulsive that it would have no merchandising potential. Although he succeeded in making Bill utterly repulsive, he failed at making him a merchandising bomb. Bill the Cat trinkets and figurines have been a huge sales success and have even appeared in comic strips!
Yesterday, it was a toucan, and today, it’s a penguin! Opus is visiting us from Bloom County. I guess the Falkland Islands Brit needed a bit of a getaway and found our Sun City Peachtree community a pleasant place to kick back, after his long trip across the pond.
Opus must be exhausted! Although penguins can swim up to 15 mph, their average speed is 5 to 6 mph. After the long swim from the Falklands, he would have come ashore somewhere along Florida’s panhandle, and then walked the rest of the way to Griffin, Georgia. At 1.7 mph average walking speed, that was a very, VERY long commute. Perhaps he hitched a ride.
I wonder if Opus was searching for an adoptive family along the way. He got separated from his mom at a young age, so he has been searching for a mother figure ever since.
One thing for certain; he sure showed up here looking spiffy with his trademark bow tie. (Although, he switches it up to a neck tie when he runs for public office.)
Opus is quite the well-rounded character, having worked a variety of jobs throughout his career. He was a legal secretary, a tuba player in a heavy metal rock band (“Deathtongue”, later renamed “Billy and the Boingers”), a newspaper personals editor, lifestyle columnist, comic strip writer, farmer, garbageman, cartoonist, and a vice presidential candidate on the National Radical Meadow Party ticket. Whew! That’s a lot of jobs!
Unfortunately, though, the money Opus earned from those jobs didn’t last long, because he just couldn’t resist buying goods from those infotainment commercials. Oh well, at least he won’t go hungry. He has a very nice and healthy selection of fruit he brought with him; and, if he gets thirsty, the golf course pond is just up the street.
Hey! I have an idea! Sun City’s indoor pool water is saline, so perhaps Opus would want to join me for a swim tomorrow morning! I sure wouldn’t challenge him to a race, though!