One of my favorite comic strips.
And yeah, it’s weird, weird, weird.
There’s a strange squid motif from time to time as well.
Maybe Rain has something to do with it. (as she says, “Friends don’t let friends play with giant squids.”)
Check out Lio (or your favorite comic) HERE
Who said ‘cheat post’?
I checked my “search stats” today and one caught my eye:
‘beer or smoke – which one is worse for you’
Hmmm . . .
I’d have to say neither.
What’s way worse is too much Klaus Nomi . . .
Too much Nomi will eventually fry your brain.
It’s Charlie Chaplin meets Gary Numan
And then some . . .
Yoiks. (or Yolks)
Happy Easter, folks.
No happy and snappy eggs for you. Sorry.
Hopefully, I’ll see you all back here next week.
peace, out . . .
I’m sitting cross-legged on a mysterious and deserted beach with nothing but the sound of the incoming tide.
The ocean is dark, brooding and occasionally offers up a glimpse of a dying whitecap. There’s a slight breeze but for the life of me I can’t tell if it’s warm or cool, it just is.
The full moon is partially blocked by the numerous passing clouds but there are intermittent flashes of light, possible thunderstorms that illuminate the wide expanse of beach before me.
I can almost see the curvature of the earth near the horizon.
The sky begins changing day to night, night to day and the passage of 24 hours is not unlike the second hand of some diabolical and uncontrollable timepiece.
The wind begins to scream and I realize that I’m slowly beginning to disappear, grain of sand by grain of sand. I am but a slight aberration in the ground below me.
The image of a weather-beaten sphinx flitters around my dreaming subconscious mind.
It’s then that I see the shadow of a street sign of sorts in the water, roughly 10 feet from the shore. I squint hard trying to see it during the brief intervals of light.
It says “5 miles to Vandmere”, a place I’ve never heard of before.
According to Google, it doesn’t exist; and by the end of my strangely epic dream,
nor do I.
Maybe it’s a place I’m just not supposed to find.
I’m open to any interpretations.
One freaky ass dream, folks.
Should you see any signs for “Vandmere” email me a picture and send directions.
Maybe I should check it out . . .
Saw an ad pasted on the wall of the train the other day for pistachios.
I laughed when I read it.
It said, (are you ready for this?)
“Don’t shoot until you see the greens of their nuts.”
What the hell were the guys in advertising smoking that day?