I’m wearing Fruit of the Loom and Hanes, thank you. Oh, these are Payless sneakers, thanks!


I watched the Oscars and found that compared to the show, one commercial in particular was the best target for heckling. The Aquafina commercial with people hugging and carrying bottles of water while Karen Carpenter sings Top of the World. I grew up in the ’70s, I like the Carpenters, I like Top of the World. I know a commercial was pretty much what got them noticed to begin with, and if it does it again, yay.

I just don’t understand the whole “Make your body happy.” thing.  WITH WATER.


On the other hand, almost everyone I wanted to win, won. Beyoncé wasn’t bad, Chris Rock won me over with his Gap vs. Banana Republic dig, and no one wore swan dresses, so the only thing I can think of to heckle would be the silly aisle awards. I mean, WTH was that. On the other, other hand, I could just be getting older and mellower with the heckling.

Cheese, please.

Today’s strip brings you the perils of label reading.

I really have to wonder what kind of vets formulate the Pedigree line of products. They’re all about dogs, they say. Then I have to wonder why their Dentabone 3-in-1 shares an ingredient with antifreeze. Do dogs tend to get corrosion under the gums? Do their jaws freeze up in temperatures under 30°F? No? Odd then, that they should require that sort of engine treatment.

The Woman is still recovering from her leg injury and is doing well, but like most women, the same ten pounds have bothered her for the past ten years and she still needs to lose weight. I went on a reading spree the other day, trying to find the cause of an added pound and that was when I found the Dentabone ingredients.

I don’t like current pet food standards, in case you were wondering. We cook the Woman’s dinners and I have to order baked kibble over the internet for her and the Ninja Twins. I wish I knew where to find good recipes for meals FOR the cats TO EAT, then they wouldn’t need canned food. I hear they can turn into gremlins if they don’t get the right balance of Taurine and stuff.

Google is not forgiving if you accidentally cross the line between “homemade meals for cats” and “cat recipes”.

Now I’m all upset.


I’m overwhelmed with death this morning. Sandra Dee and John Raitt were bad enough, but Dr. Thompson. OMG. I’m bummed. I wanna go watch Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas again.

Meanwhile, I drew today’s strip, and then played Monopoly with myself, because I’m snowed in. I have the EGA Monopoly Designer Kit written by Richard Tom, where 16 “people” can play. I play all 16. I’m currently beating myself after rebounding from a steep rent I had to pay myself on Kentucky Avenue, while I also languish in Jail. I play cuthroat Monopoly, man.

Where do you do your best thinking?

I believe the bathroom may very well be a temporal doorway that takes me back to when I knew everything. For a few brief moments, really brilliant stuff comes back to me. Much like Island 94.3, which I can only hear if I stand near the towels. Today’s strip didn’t come from any of that.

What happened was that one of the little stealth Ninja that live with me discovered there is a tunnel of sorts behind the toilet, and proceeded to run through it and dust off the water pipe that runs from the wall to the tank. He had fun, I merely envisioned future dustbunny hairballs if I didn’t clean his face off right away.

Another useful tip for everyone to live by is this: Ninja do not appreciate having their faces washed when they are on a mission. Italian Ninja are no different.

(This post should have read: “HA! I’m on the toilet! Pfffft!”)

The danger eats us all eventually.

I survived the electric deer attack, and any subsequent dragging that occurred afterward, it wasn’t quite as dramatic as I’ve made it out to be. Also, I was in the basement with the deer, where it has resided since the second week of January. What actually happened is a mystery even to me, but I think my antenna may have caught in the deer head moments before tipping transpired.

Boy am I glad no one saw. I’d feel silly.

The cats spoke to me again, after a few hours.


Well, my 100th strip went up today, I think. Keenspace is down. I had a big speech planned, thanking everyone who has stuck around from the beginning and promising more hijinks in the next hundred, but then I realized I’m probably the only one who has seen all the strips and I’m even more likely to be the only one that remembers as far back as August, when the punchline of this strip was set up. Then I realized I wasn’t quite sure what August was. That was a long time ago.

I wish I could fit on top of the fridge.

I always wanted to be categorized.

I am a pasty goth wannabe. I’ve worn my share of black eyeshadow and blue lipstick, I love The Cure, and my wallpaper is black with little flowers on it. That might be where it went wrong. The flowers. They’re sort of mauve flowers.

I’m allergic to the sun, you know…not to the point of combustion, but it makes me act like Smeagol in an Elven leash at best. The great thing about the sun in Winter is it’s not around quite so much, and even when it is, the freezing temperature of the air sort of throws off the whole incineration process.

Things are thawing out and I see future repair projects lining up. Why can’t concrete not crack?

Hey yeah, happy terrify the small creature day…I prefer Imbolc myself…but that was yesterday. >_>