Kitty wombat kitty kitty wombat kitty wombat YEAH
(Subject line courtesy of a totally rad 5th grader. We went to Burlington and made comics with grade-schoolers on Friday and it was the funniest shit ever. Kitty Wombat just wants to act out, man.)
WELL. WINTER OCCURS, EH. Well, not today, particularly, but it's a comin', which means the end of the semester, which means a lot of AAAAAAAAH GAWD-FACE-STABULATION JUMP-UNDER-A-FREIGHT-TRAIN FLAT-LUNG-SHAKY-LIMBED-DELERIOUS SPACE-OPERAS-OF-SELF-HATRED ANXIETY EXPLOSIONS!!! Um, and stress. There is a lesson I was supposed to have learned by now about time-management, a realistic scope of my own abilities, and prioritizing, but instead I just keep pulling all-nighters and not producing exellent finished work. WHOOPS.
DEAR SELF: for future, remember that little assignments you don't care about are not as important as cool shit like your Bibliomancy project. JERK.
But, hey, at least there's a cover:
Featuring Koriand'r Kahn's future hairdo.
Yeah, so, I dropped the ball on this one and didn't finish. But goddamn, it was still fun and I would be a lying liar if I said I wasn't a little bit psyched about where this thing is going.
(Page 4 last panel pencils. Um, they are on top of an 18-wheeler?)
MORAL: YOU SUCK. DON'T FUCK UP YOUR ANTHOLOGY PROJECT OR I WILL KILL YOU.
And now I would like to take the time to relay to you all a charming anecdote that exemplifies the treasured quaintness of small-town oral tradition and dissemination of information. But that would take a lot of effort so instead I will summarize it in horrible netspeak:
ME: WTF firetrucks?!
JOSÉ-LUIS: Pizza box chimney fire!
US: LOLZ!!!
YET THE COOLIDGE STILL STANDS.
WELL. WINTER OCCURS, EH. Well, not today, particularly, but it's a comin', which means the end of the semester, which means a lot of AAAAAAAAH GAWD-FACE-STABULATION JUMP-UNDER-A-FREIGHT-TRAIN FLAT-LUNG-SHAKY-LIMBED-DELERIOUS SPACE-OPERAS-OF-SELF-HATRED ANXIETY EXPLOSIONS!!! Um, and stress. There is a lesson I was supposed to have learned by now about time-management, a realistic scope of my own abilities, and prioritizing, but instead I just keep pulling all-nighters and not producing exellent finished work. WHOOPS.
DEAR SELF: for future, remember that little assignments you don't care about are not as important as cool shit like your Bibliomancy project. JERK.
But, hey, at least there's a cover:
Featuring Koriand'r Kahn's future hairdo.
Yeah, so, I dropped the ball on this one and didn't finish. But goddamn, it was still fun and I would be a lying liar if I said I wasn't a little bit psyched about where this thing is going.
(Page 4 last panel pencils. Um, they are on top of an 18-wheeler?)
MORAL: YOU SUCK. DON'T FUCK UP YOUR ANTHOLOGY PROJECT OR I WILL KILL YOU.
And now I would like to take the time to relay to you all a charming anecdote that exemplifies the treasured quaintness of small-town oral tradition and dissemination of information. But that would take a lot of effort so instead I will summarize it in horrible netspeak:
ME: WTF firetrucks?!
JOSÉ-LUIS: Pizza box chimney fire!
US: LOLZ!!!
YET THE COOLIDGE STILL STANDS.