I run a damsel in distress hotline.
Is there ever going to be another update of Street Code? I'm sure it's not everyone's cup of tea, but it really hit the spot the last go around. Let me think for a second here. There are no super heroes, so that eliminates at least seventy percent of the comic reading audience. Meaningful venture into delicate everyday situations by means of layered and nuanced storytelling. That eliminates another fifteen percent. It's on the internet. And that's the other fifteen percent. The world of graphic storytelling needs Dean Haspiel and his comics.
I watched a compilation of dating service ads from the eighties. The best catch in the whole bunch was a guy dressed up like a viking named Fred. Seemed like a nice guy. Frankly, I can't think of any better date than raiding and pillaging Europe. Romantic scenery and some mead by moonlight. Sounds good to me.
I live with three other guys in an apartment suite on campus. Two of them don't matter because this trite tall tale doesn't involve them. Most weekends though, such as this one, the apartment is inhabited by myself and another suite mate. We'll call him Joe. That is his name after all. Anyway, Joe has a girlfriend. She's really neato, and I'm a little jealous that he has such a neato-bandito lady. This is natural because I'm a naturally jealous type o' guy, and you'd feel the same way too. Anyway, last night he did what he usually does on Friday nights, and I didn't. While he was doing whatever weird thing he was doing, I was hangin' with some friends at Chile's after a concert. We'd spent enough time at Chile's and decided to head back to the apartment. Being the considerate roomie that I am, I called first to see if that was cool.
"Hey man. What are you up to?"
"Just hangin' with Gordie in the room."
"Sweet. So me and some friends were thinking about heading back from Chile's and playing some games. Is that cool with you?"
"Sure."
"Great. See you in a minute."
I walk in the room, greeted by Joe, and followed by four young, boisterous ladies, two of which were blitzed and quite attractive. So I went up to Joe, who was wearing the most surprised and confused facial expression, gave him a hug, and completely ignored him for the rest of the evening. Suck it Joe.
I watched a compilation of dating service ads from the eighties. The best catch in the whole bunch was a guy dressed up like a viking named Fred. Seemed like a nice guy. Frankly, I can't think of any better date than raiding and pillaging Europe. Romantic scenery and some mead by moonlight. Sounds good to me.
I live with three other guys in an apartment suite on campus. Two of them don't matter because this trite tall tale doesn't involve them. Most weekends though, such as this one, the apartment is inhabited by myself and another suite mate. We'll call him Joe. That is his name after all. Anyway, Joe has a girlfriend. She's really neato, and I'm a little jealous that he has such a neato-bandito lady. This is natural because I'm a naturally jealous type o' guy, and you'd feel the same way too. Anyway, last night he did what he usually does on Friday nights, and I didn't. While he was doing whatever weird thing he was doing, I was hangin' with some friends at Chile's after a concert. We'd spent enough time at Chile's and decided to head back to the apartment. Being the considerate roomie that I am, I called first to see if that was cool.
"Hey man. What are you up to?"
"Just hangin' with Gordie in the room."
"Sweet. So me and some friends were thinking about heading back from Chile's and playing some games. Is that cool with you?"
"Sure."
"Great. See you in a minute."
I walk in the room, greeted by Joe, and followed by four young, boisterous ladies, two of which were blitzed and quite attractive. So I went up to Joe, who was wearing the most surprised and confused facial expression, gave him a hug, and completely ignored him for the rest of the evening. Suck it Joe.