Peter just isn’t the kind of guy to write up an elaborate business plan. Or business anything, I guess.
I guess a lot of businesses are run like that.
Peter just isn’t the kind of guy to write up an elaborate business plan. Or business anything, I guess.
I guess a lot of businesses are run like that.
I bet doctors have humor all their own. Dentists, Anesthesiologists, Surgeons, Veterinarians, General Practitioners, Cardiologists. Especially Electro-Physiologists. I bet their conventions are raucous with wild hilarity and very few actual human body parts sneaked in for some of the more elaborate humor.
Not that you or I would get ALL the jokes. Orthopedists, for instance, think that “humorous” is funnier spelled “humerus”, and that one gets past me, somehow. It just doesn’t tickle my funny bone.
We’ve all heard the stories. The kid that was being all stoic about his booboo until he looked down and saw his arm covered in blood. The kid with the broken arm to insisted he was good to finish the ball game. The kid that thought his rash was acting up on the campout and woke up with ant bites all over him.
The jackass who had a bowling ball fight in the dark and passed out, then woke up and figured if he survived the whole night with a leg the color of a blood blister, there’s no reason to think it’s life-threatening.
No, that last one still sounds dumb.
Leave it to Paste to give everyone something to talk about, and then ask them to talk about something else- both of which will benefit him, of course.
Not, now that I think about it, the kind of personality you want to put the kind of money behind, when that personality only needed the money to prove that he deserved to have money behind him.
Almost like he’s the son of a rich guy or something.
Sigh. Kids.
I had to think about it. It’s possible that we’ve broken those big windows, like, FOUR times now. I can’t recall exact details of each time, but four sounds right.
There was the fireworks test, the pogo sticking, and I think Paste went through on a bike once before. You can’t rely on my memory or Paste’s memory, though.
Anyone of you folks recall exactly?
It’s always nice when everyone’s on the same page, isn’t it?
Or at least reading the same book, which Paste ISN’T. He’s streaming a video of that scary empty-building-but-with-monsters thing while everyone else is reading the latest Management Paradigm Shifting Bestseller.
But as long as he doesn’t rush into anything… or as long as he doesn’t rush into anything without thinking up some really truly rash thing to add to whatever he’s rushing into… Oh, who am I kidding? Something’s gonna get broke. You wait.
You spend all that time on WebMD, finding out that you have the Raging Epizooty, or Alien Bowel Stimulation Amnesia, or y’know, whatever… and then you go to the doctor who tells you that it’s indigestion from the box and a half of chocolate covered espresso beans with wasabi sea salt that you ate. It’s crazy- like, did these doctors ever GO to medical school or study the science behind Sympathetic Ghost-Induced Kidney Misalignment?
I think NOT. And I’m going to write an angry Twitter post about it. Again.
And so our hero sets out on new adventures in other places.
There’s no telling when we’ll get to swing back around to his doings.
But as the comic strip is named for him, I suspect it won’t be, like, forever.
So- here’s last month’s calendar image.
The calendars went out to Patreon patrons who are at the tiers where ya gotta input your mailing address.
I thought you guys would like to see it too.
Stress is plentiful. There’s more than enough for everyone, and many of us have more than our fair share.
So it’s right that someone, somewhere, has none. It’s gotta average out somehow. One day, the person whose turn it is to be totally stress free-will then get stressed anyway. And that, my friends, is the beginning of the end.
And if that last stress-free soul is a raccoon, well sirs and madams, we were really, really overstressed.
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