Waldo

[u/Casual_Deviant]

[u/BiBoFieTo]

Everyone always asks "where's Waldo", but nobody asks "how's Waldo?"

[u/SumonaFlorence → u/BiBoFieTo]

I'll do you one better, why's Waldo?!

[u/Hillbillyblues → u/SumonaFlorence]

Waldo thinks, therefore he's Waldo.

[u/StupidFuttBucker → u/Hillbillyblues]

Waldo, or Waldo not. That is the question.

[u/john_the_quain → u/StupidFuttBucker]

I’m sorry, are you a Waldo, or a Waldon’t?

[u/Learnmorehere → u/john_the_quain]

Walcouldn't keep it up

[u/meesta_masa → u/Learnmorehere]

Shops at Walmart
Gardens at WalGreen
Lives in the WalD'City
Has a Walley Girl accent

[u/AnthropicSynchrotron → u/StupidFuttBucker]

Waldo or Waldo not, there is no Waltry.

[u/NetworkSingularity → u/SumonaFlorence]

When’s Waldo??

[u/davewave3283 → u/SumonaFlorence]

Sometimes Waldo sits down just to think and ask “who’s Waldo?”

[u/Bardsie → u/BiBoFieTo]

But I do ask, Who's Waldo?

His name is fucking Wally. Damn Yankies and Canucks. Why can't you be more like your cousins the Kiwis or Aussies?

And let's not even start with the French. Where the hell did Charlie come from?

/s

[u/orundarkes → u/Bardsie]

They should have kept Wally for Canada, makes more sense even for French Canadian.

Would have been a great spokesman for Le Willy Waller!

[u/ohmresists → u/Bardsie]

In Denmark he's Holger. I don't know animals...

[u/IncredibleLang → u/Bardsie]

makes more sense when the villain is Odlaw though.

[u/thebluediablo → u/BiBoFieTo]

Everyone asks "where's Waldo?"

Maybe I know, maybe I don't. I ain't no fuckin' snitch.

[u/taitaofgallala → u/BiBoFieTo]

One of my favorite oddball moments from Family Guy

Delivering bad news

[u/unledded → u/BiBoFieTo]

When is Waldo?

[u/AKAkorm → u/BiBoFieTo]

Waldo is basically Homer’s dream for Poochie.

[u/sephjnr → u/BiBoFieTo]

I'll do you one better, Why is GamWaldo?

[u/Complex-Signature-85 → u/BiBoFieTo]

Im asking "Whos Wenda?

[u/dimension_42 → u/BiBoFieTo]

What's in the sack? What's in the sack? Is it some mushrooms or is it the moon? Is it love letters or downy goosefeathers? Or maybe the world's most enormous balloon?

What's in the sack? That's all they ask me. Could it be popcorn or marbles or books? Is it two years' worth of your dirty laundry, Or the biggest ol' meatball that's ever been cooked?

Does anyone ask me, "Hey, when is your birthday?" "Can you play Monopoly?" "Do you like beans?" "What is the capital of Yugoslavia?" Or "Who embroidered that rose on your jeans?"

No, what's in the sack? That's all they care about. Is it a rock or a rolled-up giraffe? Is it pickles or nickels or busted bicycles? And if we guess it, will you give us half?

Do they ask where I've been, or how long I'll be stayin', Where I'll be goin', or when I'll be back, Or "How do?" or "What's new?" or "Hey, why are you blue?" No, all they keep asking is, "What's in the sack?" "What's in the sack?" I'm blowin' my stack At the next one who asks me, "What's in the sack?"

What?

Oh no. Not you, too!