As my little storyteller.
It will pass, however. I just need to let the allergy medicine kick in again.
I leave you with the knowledge that I like to sew. I’m pretty good at it, I mean, even though I’ve sewn a great many things to my own body parts, it all ends up looking how I’d planned, except for that dress that time….
I also need to know if Scorpions ten times the size of one’s head, such as the one in Dragon’s Eye, like to go on nature walks in Appalachia, and, if they do, do they adhere to the guidelines on mulch use?
True story: I had a fish named Benny. Benny and Maristella, named for characters from a soap opera I watched during childhood nosebleeds. All my other fish had names too, but when Benny died, and we called my Poppy to tell him Benny The Fish died, my Poppy said, “Ohhh, no. …Who’s Benny The Fish?”
One would think, but I’m assured this all happened.
Today, I sprayed my hedges with milk. They have powdery mildew, you see. I didn’t realize at the time that the yard would then smell like milk. I’m hoping it doesn’t smell like sour milk tomorrow.
I don’t know whose underpants I’m wearing.
You would think, having used old crappy psycho drawings for two weeks, I’d have a bunch of strips lined up ready to go, but no.
You don’t need to know this, of course. Just go and admire the pimping skills of my kittens, I know I do. They know I do, too.
I think I’ll start a little handy trivial thing about me of the day, just so all three of you can come here and feel like you know me. I’ll need a better title for it, but in the meantime, here’s today’s special secret about me:
I really don’t function well in hot weather. I might need a 5W-30 refill. I had to look up 5W-30, because I’m not a auto freak. I wish I was, because then I might have been able to repair my air conditioner myself, without causing pollution and death. I know enough about 5W-30 however, to warn any impressionable young people not to refill themselves with motor oil, as it has little to no effect on cartilage.
As a bonus, I’ll tell you that I like colors, and pizza, but not when I have a hernia.
It may be the fifth time I’ve used that malady as an excuse.
I’m taking a short break from the saga of how the Ninja Twins were placed under house arrest to bring you my ridiculous impressions of Olympic Sports from 1988. Note the officials are South Korean, otherwise I’m sure this could pass for the current games. The drawings get even stupider, kids.
…they know what they want.
Oh, the poor kittens. Of course, it loses a lot of suspense when you realize it’s all a flashback.
Then again, one of the non-fictional twins jumped head-first into a glass door tonight, so they never fail to dish the suspense to the max. I have since covered the door with Stik-ees, but the kitten is still threatening a lawsuit.
I realize today’s strip features the shortest version of the Woman yet. She’s meant to be lying on the ground, you see. Really.
These strips are like bad photographs.
I’m actually attempting to comprehend what the twins have told me of their lives before me, and show it to you.
Turns out they come from the same planet as their Pops. Who would have guessed?
So, it’s all intricate and stuff, today’s will also be a tad tardy.