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Who needs drugs as long as there are Zippy the Pinhead anthologies? The hero of Bill Griffith's long-running Mad-Libs-esque strip ambles through American wastelands spouting pop-culture saturated non-sequiturs like "Thank God miniature golf survives unscathed!" Baffled but game, he winds up in odd sexual situations that he greets with good humor and surreally appropriate remarks such as, "My pants just went to high school in the Carlsbad Caverns!" We could all approach dating with a little more of Zippy's delirious enthusiasm.
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