See you next year.

Eek, I did this a while ago.

I have never not looked forward to a new year on new year’s eve as much as this one. Usually I’ll pine for the year gone by because invariably someone I liked died or a radio station changed formats or something, but this will most likely be a strange new year’s celebration between crippled dogs and people that can’t eat or drink certain things because their body parts will flare up.

I spoke too soon, and my inner circle has had something very, very bad happen.

The Woman of my comics blew out her ACL in 2003, a very common injury among her people, I’ve been told, so common that she’s done it again.

(She has all her legs, btw, that picture makes her look like she’s only got one left, but when they work properly, she has four hot ‘n sexy legs that could outrun the fastest squirrel, provided she wanted to catch it. Really.)

I intend to celebrate it like it’s the last one some of us may ever see, however, which I guess is how one is meant to go about every minute of the day. I always had a problem with that concept though, because if people actually did live every moment as if it were their last, I don’t see how anything would get done. Plus, it would be very irritating to those who aren’t living every moment as if it were their last, what with all the hugging and eating peanut butter cups.

Ooh, look, I’m trying to be funny.

So, I’ll be spending new year’s with my family. There’s nothing wrong with celebrating new year’s with my dog, cats, Nan and Mum. After all, my mother mixes interesting drinks.

I’m taking a week off from the strip starting now, because I don’t know what I’ll be doing by next week and I’m turning non-funny real quick. 2004 went from a year I had made my peace with to one that had to kick me in the ass as I went through the door in the space of a second. I hope that 2005 is better for you, for me, for all the small furry creatures and for the large ones as well.

Even words suck.

When I started doing this comic, I had always planned on ending the year with this kind of strip, but the ending kept changing.

Now, as I’m standing at the end of the year looking back at what happened within my little realm of conciousness, I realize it could’ve been much worse on a lot of levels. I’m not even talking world events here, my extended family alone has had a lot of things happen this year that quite frankly suck.

I’m feeling rather unfunny at the moment, as when I come out from under my rock, reality blinds me. On my main page, I put a link up to the Amazon Red Cross donation page that’s been going around for the tsunami, even the cynical part of me truly hopes it makes a difference. I think we should all take a lesson from South Asia and realize that official emergency preparedness is a joke and tourism boards aren’t always looking out for the safety of others.

Someday, we’ll look back at this and puke.

It has been a busy year.

I’m glad I started this comic, though. Many a year has come and gone and I have nothing to show for it but mysterious bills. I still get the bills, still don’t remember what for, but I feel like I did something with these strips.

How sad is that?


No, I’m serious.

I’ve no idea if I have any readers, but if I do, thanks. If you come back more than once, you’ve made me happy.

Why Golden Palace doesn’t have a backgammon room is beyond me. I could kick ass at that.

Have some pie for Jesus!

Merry Christmas. I have no other way to describe today’s strip.

Well, I do, but not here. It would take too long. I like holidays, I like ALL holidays, but I have this inner Catholic schoolgirl that apparently likes to make bizarre St. Jude jokes. I also really like pie.

See you on the other side of Boxing Day.

Oh yeah, I’d also like to mention that I got through the month of 24/7 FM Christmas stations without hearing Dominic, The Italian Christmas Donkey more than twice today. Amazing, eh? Satellite radio has renewed my faith in music.

I’ve often been told that you only can do what you know how to do well….

Today, I write the truth.

I have three major projects to finish in the next 48 hours, and I have to also be awake on Saturday for at least five hours so someone I only see once a year won’t leave thinking I suck.

I should be able to pull it off.

Provided the black ink tank doesn’t run out.

Seasonal Affective Disorder starts at 3:45am.

I think it’s too late for me.

Then again, maybe not.

I really did drink some sleepy tea, and I think what it does if you don’t lie down within a certain amount of time is put things into your head that make you want to lie down and curl into a ball as soon as possible.

It snowed, and it was pretty, but I had to come in and do tonight’s strip, and about ten other things, only two of which got done. You can guess which those were.

The inner workings of my mind.

I’m a video editor, you know. At least, among my family. Something looks like crap and I get to fix it, because everyone knows I can and will…eventually. I was asked to try brightening a video back in March. Yes, March. Before my floor was devoured and my tree was pronounced dead and my car got heatstroke, among other things. It doesn’t seem that long ago to me, but apparently there’s now a rather big holiday coming up and I can use it as an excuse reason to be all “Here you go!”

I will merely blame the computer for the delay.


The meaning of Christmas.

The Ninja Twins seriously love climbing trees.

I’m all old and burnt out, so I’d like to go back in time and stop me from buying all those Hallmark ornaments back in the ’90s. For so many reasons.

This year, tragically, sees the passing of the silk ladies. Up until tonight, I called them the cardboard geishas, but I think there’s some incorrectness in that term. I’ve had them for 20 years, but this year when I opened the box I was greeted by lots sawdust and the remains of some paper lice. Damn. It always seems to be the ornaments I lose that I miss most of all.

Anyway, happy holidays or something.

The trees shave in the gutter.

Gutter rakes truly do kick ass.

Just before the snow comes, I’ve become obsessed with removing the small trees from my rain gutters, and I blame the catalog that came in the mail back in July which featured the gutter rake, because once I finally got around to using that mofo, my gutters are like babbling brooks of happiness. Or at least they will be when I get that big clump out of the corner. There should have been a downspout there, I swear.

It was also Tom Waits’ birthday yesterday, and I wanted to somehow tie this strip into Diamonds and Gold from Rain Dogs. I did not succeed, you don’t have to tell me.

The poop justice is strong, and was duly served.

Reality checks are always useful. For instance, I’ve been listening to a lot of ’80s music since setting up my Frankenradio (as in Frankenstein, y’know…not Al, I don’t think he plays music and being this literal makes my heart hurt), and I’m remembering things about my past…at least I think it’s my past, and some of those things trouble me.

At any rate, if kittens want to go out, even after hearing how cold it is outside, don’t stand in their way, just hook up their harnesses and go for the walkies, otherwise the poop will get you.

(I am no closer to the goals on my to-do list as of this writing.)