Wearing a suit all the time is a key to success.  Just ask Seth.

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http://gunshowcomic.com/d/20091112.html

Gun Show Comic comic for Thursday, November 12, 2009

I just met my favorite living author, Jonathan Safran Foer, and I am extremely tired and incredibly happy.

He gave a lecture at a local temple to discuss his new book, Eating Animals, which, naturally, got me thinking about my own vegetarianism (a relic from a time when I still found occasions to shout). After eight years, it's become more habit than anything. Living by example is better than preaching, anyway. HOWEVER, tonight made me have feelings again, and it's so nice.

( Cut in case you don't give a fuck, but this is probably the only LJ entry of mine I will ever encourage you to read. )

It figures - one day after I go to the doctor so they can tell me there's nothing they can do, my illness finally gives up, calls a full-retreat, and agrees to all conditions of its surrender.  I've only lost my voice in the battle.  My throat (the battlefield, if you will) is still sore and scarred, but is much better.  I'm still coughing a little, but nothing like the last few days.  I just can't really talk much above a gravely whisper.

So, I'm going to school tomorrow.  I've got to make up a lab, take a missed exam, visit three art shows, write journals about them, and go work out (maybe.)  That's a lot for my first day out.  Hopefully, none of them require the gift of gab.

Here, enjoy this: ( Goddamn Batman )

Today I returned those sunglasses to TJMaxx. They were more expensive and less cool than the thrift-store glasses. I cut off 8 or so inches of my hair. It had grown for a year and a half from chin length and now it is chin-length again. Frightfully fast. I'm going to crack open a beer now.

Every year my mom asks me to do some drawings for her school's yearbook based on the year's theme. Then she takes my shitty doodles and places them for the kids who didn't get their pictures taken for one reason or antother.

This year's theme is circus. I could go nuts with it, but a) they end up really really small and in black and white, and b) i have other things to do. I did most of these on my lunchbreak at work.

I got a comment about my last comic saying that it condoned smoking, but I don't, that is nonsense! You should also not lasso cats out of trees, if that doesn't go without saying. Historical smoking is another matter, go ahead and have a smoke in the trench, but I advise against lighting three cigarettes at night.

Remembrance Day always makes me ruminative about the place of history in our current consciences, because it is one of the few holidays where we are explicitly told listen you have to remember this thing that happened ok and, one, people pay attention, two, there is nothing jamming the line like bbq's or parties or football games or chocolate eggs or presents. History: You should give a shit, who knew.

Just so we are clear though, I don't really care about Queen Victoria's birthday either so go ahead and slam it back on May 24 weekend, fireworks and the whole bit. Honestly we should all get free corgis on Victoria Day.

Size of a toothpick, oh the irony! Not allowed to show my underwear? Well then put the Cadbury bars in a picture frame and hang it in MMoMA.

I threw my coffee this morning. 

I’d ordered a simple filtered blend in a paper cup at Starbucks.  At some point during my sashay to a table in the back, the strap of my laptop bag slipped from its clutch on my shoulder.  This unexpected development obviously startled the poor coffee in my hand.  The flimsy plastic lid popped off and I watched a steaming brown pillar eject from the cup.  It launched ceiling-ward and hesitated; I swear it did, long enough for me to say, “Shhhhhhhhhhhit.” 

Faces turned. 

I looked down.  Not my day.  Then I apologized to a guy who caught a few droplets and had to sit somewhere else while a barista mopped up the mess. 

There were no words exchanged.  Just the ‘shit’. 

I wish I could say it was funny.  I wish I could embellish it in some way.  Perhaps the splashed man could have stood up and bitch-slapped me in the face (is that where bitch-slaps happen?) or broken into song, the ever theatrical portrayal of the Spilled Coffee Song.  And so in place of the embellishment, I wonder how many people in the entire world spilled a beverage in the same moment I spilled my own.  I’d like to compose a visual montage of seven-second shots.  I wonder how long it would take.  Ten minutes?  Three hours? Five?  There’s an idea for an experimental film.  The spilled milk, the overturned pitchers, the stained blouses, the broken vessels, the extinguished flames, the widened eyes of the fearful children.  The vivid image of a bucket of cow’s blood comes to mind.  But that’s not a beverage.  Or is it?

Cow’s blood.  Coffee.  What’s the difference? 

And now the phone rings, distracting me from the thought.  It’s a Miss Eleni, a realtor or something, with houses she wants me to see, and I’m reminded that I have to move from my apartment, pack my things, relocate, start again.  I am polite on the phone.  I ask her nicely.  I ask her to speak slowly so that I don’t miss the meaning of the conversation, because she doesn’t speak English, and I listen to her sweet enunciations in my favor.  Every word curls with the smile I hear on her lips.  The words are licks.  The conversation lasts seven minutes and fifty-two seconds and I wonder if it was tedious for her.  I am impressed with my comprehension and she flatters me at the end, tells me my accent is perfect.  I laugh a fake laugh and she is my echo.  This only makes me think that she’s desperate for my custom and does not reassure me of my competency in Greek. 

I have to get out of here.  I have to dislodge myself from this couch, from this mood.

You can now also subscribe to all of the Box Brown print comics.  Subscriber copies will be signed and mailed BEFORE issues go up for sale (for future issues, natch).  Subscribers will also receive reduced shipping.

Originally posted at Pages in Sequence

In real life this wasn’t a shirt, it was a pair of underwear.  It wasn’t an anarchy underwear, it was from Senor Frogs.

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After feeling a little better yesterday afternoon, last night was the worst night yet.  I barely slept, maybe 15 minutes at a time, because my throat hurt so badly and even my usual remedies weren't helping.  Ethan managed to sleep through it all, but I'm afraid my coughing kept Jacquelyn up.

My doctor managed to get me in this afternoon to make sure it wasn't strep (which it isn't) and determined it is a particularly nasty upper-respiratory throat virus.  They said I should do what I've been doing, plus stay away from people as long as I have symptoms.

This virus has started to settle in my sinuses.  Do I trade off my horrible throat for sinus headaches?

Laying down now.  Will probably take tomorrow off too.  I can honestly say I have never been this sick for this long in my adult life.

This is something I learned while working at the Department of Public Works as a garbage man.  If you want to fall asleep quickly start with sex fantasy.

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I recorded today with my violin, a kazoo, and a toaster. Didn't get much out of it but got somethin. I suppose. I guess the cleaning lady will wonder why the vacuum and the toaster are in the attic with all the junk up here. It looks truly insane in this room right now because there's stuff from various projects all in one place. There's the big plastic bin and vibrating machine from the dental supply office, the 2x4s with guitar pickups glued to them, the sampler and picture-adjuster in a big pile next to the television, the copper horn, a fishing tack box, the crowd of effects pedals plus mixer on top of the cedar chest, the old blue suitcase with a piece of curtain fabric in it, two guitars, two violins, my ukulele, Andy's crappy pink ukulele from Mexico, a heart-shaped stringed instrument that probably belongs to Andy's mom, bits of crinkly plastic, a yellow nylon-stringed mini guitar, a violin bow with plastic taped around it, a contact mic taped to the toaster which is on the futon, and the upside-down painting of the Beatles I did when I was 16. It's upside-down because it is a shitty painting and it looks better that way.

http://gunshowcomic.com/d/20091110.html

Gun Show Comic comic for Tuesday, November 10, 2009

My cold is still kicking my ass, though I actually felt okay for a few hours today, except for my throat, which feels like I mistook shards of glass for Grape Nuts and had a big heaping bowl for breakfast. Only the perfect combination of Theraflu, ibuprofen, and cough drops can come anywhere close to taming it.  Without, I cough and hack like I'm trying to barf up an alien parasite.

Apparently I missed a boring chemistry class and another day of work. Tomorrow, I can skip my chemistry lab and go to Thursday's lab instead.  I have to go to at least part of photography to mount my prints for the current project.  I don't think I can swing weight lifting.  My one big problem is my weather and climate test.  I have to be there and I have to ace it.  My odds are not good.

So I spent most of my sickness making icons (new iconomicon post!) and playing Dragon Age: Origins, which is pretty fantastic.  It is literally the best parts of Mass Effect, Knights of the Old Republic, and Baldur's Gate, all mixed into one game.  I will almost be sad when I have to go back to a regular schedule and I won't have time for it.

I also took some photos of the cats.  So, yeah, if that's your thing, you may want to click the cut.

( Feline Photography )

Also, No Shave Novembeard (which is competing apparently with Mustache Movember) is going well.  I haven't shaved, actually, since the middle of October so I have quite the thick mess going.  This, plus my sickeness has resulted in a general unkempt, pile-of-death feeling.  I am going to curl up on the couch and pray for the sweet, sweet, oblivion of sleep.

Requests aren't done, they will be popping up as we go, but honestly I do not need annnyymooreee! I was looking at the Wonder Women that I drew last year and started drawing her again, because she's pretty fun to draw, and surly Wonder Woman here came out. Don't settle for being a tits and tits heroine ladies, be yourself! Poor Nibbles.


Hey Montreal! I'm going to be at Expozine this weekend! You should come.

Store!

I get really freaked out about some of those drawings! If I drew that Crazy Fish or that Crazy Snake in my sketchbook today I would post them on the internet.

I might upload the whole episode, there's a bit with me pretending to be a bee, and a really cool Paddington Bear short. Also there's more of that red headed girl acting CRAZY.

Vicki Nerino and I have decided to start doing weekly comics on our Uterus Parade blog. From the state of this one, we'll see how long this lasts.