I’m going to Aisle 5, dude.
Gonna pick up some Chicks.

Holy mother of shit, I have updated my comic.
Back in my baby years of internetting, I always hated people with comics who updated with things like “Uhhh… here’s my comic… *runs and hides*” and “OMG, I”M SOOOO SORRY I HAVEN’T UPDATED, MY LITTLE BROTHER JUST HAD A LITTER OF KITTENS, AND THE DOCTOR VISITS HAVE BEEN KEEPING ME BUSY!”
Yeah, I hated that as much as I now hate scheduled bloggers who begin every blog with “Sorry I’m late on this blog! And get this! I have nothing to say! My little brother is biologically unable to have litters of kittens, so he has to adopt.”
Anyway, yeah, comic.
Brett informed me yesterday that I hadn’t infact updated in the duration of our friendship, which was so strange, I almost updated just to spite that fact.
Then after this huge OS switchamajoo, I realized my scanner no longer worked properly, which, as is common among techno-perfectionalists like me, NAGGED AT MY EVERY THOUGHT until I had it fixed, regardless of the fact that I HAVEN’T USED MY SCANNER SINCE 1978, which is in fact, two years before I was born, but that didn’t matter, because I had to get it to work NOW.
Joe with his relentless heaping bowls of helpfulness told me about some sort of Wizard who I had to summon and cast Driver Spells on it or some shit. I did that, and that halfway worked, so I started beating my scanner with sticks, and that finished the job.
This scared the printer into working with XP on my first try.
My speakers started sobbing, even though they’d been working in the first place, but they’re just pussies.
So here you have it. The comic-ey fruit of the loins of my sketchbook.
I am now off to bed, because, as you can probably tell from this post, I am very tired.
I also spent all day trying to rig the apartment with cable, and have come to the conclusion that I hate everything. I have daisy-chained or splitted or whatever you want to call it, magically conga lined the cable down the hallway, and for some reason, the TV at the beginning of the conga line works, and mine at the end of the hall works, but the conga-TV in the middle doesn’t.
For some reason.
If I liked Felicia less, it wouldn’t be a problem, but she’s so fucking cool, I just have to solve the problem so we can watch Comedy Central in 3 rooms at once.
Also, quick side note, for you silly, silly presumptuous bastards.
-I am not dating Brett. He is a friend. Also, I imagine dating comics is not unlike a John Woo movie. Sure, you’re probably gonna have a lot of action, but in the end, there’s always going to be a point-blank Mexican standoff.
-I am not having an affair with Joe. He is a friend. Also, I imagine dating a married guy would be not unlike a Robin Williams movie. Sure, you’re probably gonna have a few laughs, but ultimately, they belong to someone else.
-I am not Felicia’s lesbian lover. She is a friend. Also, I imagine dating a girl would be not unlike a Kevin Costner movie. Sure, if there’s nothing else to rent, you’ve considered giving it a chance, but it’s obvious the director doesn’t know what he’s doing.
Thanks, folks, I’ll be here all week.

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