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This sucks, don't bother. Or stuff.

The thinking. It's always fleeting itself away right when I think I have it. It's terribly irksome.

Might as well watch more cartoons or read more comix. You read me. Comix.




Fuck, this hand is still acting up? My "checkup" is thursday and my borked hand still aches. I mean, I should prolly be laying off any strain--like work or typing--but I really just can't. It's all too tempting/easy to forget what's good for me.

And that's pretty much been true for me my whole life.


So I've resumed my life's goal of reading all of the underground comic Cerebus. It ran from 1977 to about 2004, and was produced by Dave Sim, who over the course of the comic's 6000 page run, as I've just found out, became some kind of raving nutter/crack genius.

Either way, I started the damn thing about a year ago (?) and never really got around to finishing...I'd sworn then I'd finish all 300 issues by the end of last year. 3 months after that deadline and only just resuming with issue 20. This could take a while.

Interspersed with this are other so-called comix. I want to read all TMNT issues. Ever.

I'm also browsing through a collection of Kitchen Sink Comix and some other small press thingers.

For some reason, these underground comix have grabbed my attention in a way that a lot of mainstream comics just haven't quite managed. Maybe it's the water color gore (?) of  The Melting Pot, or the weird efficiency of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, or the quaint allure of Bone (still gotta start that...), or maybe I'm too hippie-capitalist for DC and Marvel. Who knows.



So Parker and I are barreling our way through the new series of Doctor Who in preparation of the new season this April :D

I really love watching the Doctor with him. It's like we harmonize & complement eachother's reactions. Every freak out he has or each tear I shed is somehow balanced & appreciated perfectly by the other, and vice versa.

Fuck, I love this show so much.

I should go watch more Jon Pertwee--I'm so close to the end of his run!




Meanwhile, our cat-thing-bitch has mostly been good. She used to puke a lot--a LOT--to the point that she lost so much weight I dubbed her Skeletor.  We thought it was furballs, but it turned out it was really some food allergy.

We've fattened her back up just fine, though now she's possibly the most obnoxious bitch ever.

Like, totally sweeter than ever now that she's not about to die or stuff. But seriously. She gets even a bit hungry and the Siamese masked by her Calico cuteness comes out raging hard in terror. Ugh.



Parker is wearing pin stripes. And a red tie. He just met his girlfriend's grandfather, et al. Apparently they all thought he was a figment of Kial's imagination, cuz she apparently basically doesn't date.

I find this amusing and mindfracking, slightly. It's adorable too.



I'm actually struggling to come up with random shit to ramble about. That's as bad a sign, if not worse, than failing so bad at forming a coherent post that I descend into hr sectioned chunks of randomness. Did that even make sense?

Wow, I must be failing at coherence somethin' serious. I guess it really has been too long since I blogged. I'll hafta come back later when my mind is back in the game for this.
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Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
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