Remember when you were a kid? And when your mom was yelling it was really bad… and when she got quiet, that was the worst it could get.
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Comic
2374 comics.
Wow. Ya nearly didn’t get an update this morning. It’s been a long day!
Would any of you dyed-in-the-wool patrons of the strip like to explain to any new readers about where the nickname ‘Karabug’ comes from?
I used to assume no one would necessarily remember, but you guys know more about this strip than I do…
Integrity is easiest kept when you don’t realize you have it. Write that down. It might be a saying one day.
I just made it up, so we’ll give it a shake-out period and see how it does.
Most of us don’t do much based on who someone else is. We won’t argue the point just because someone else showed up wanting an argument, either. We’ll argue the point because we showed up for an argument, though, and we ain’t leavin’ ’til we get it! Heck, yeah.
Just for the record. I’m not a Bob, though I know some people who seem to be. They’re very nice, and I’m not at all envious. Much.
Don’t ask me where Bob got money. Don’t ask me if he knows the value of money. Don’t ask because that’s a script detail, and you guys always seem to guess them before I can get to them anyhow. Clever bunch, you are.
I’ve tried a couple of different kinds of protein pancakes. First was a recipe that a personal trainer had come up with. Kinda tricky, and I never got it right. The other is a commercial brand, and I figure there’s probably not as much protein in there as they say there is. You watch. “Protein” is the new ‘Gluten Free’ or ‘No Trans Fats’. Big seller.
I can write ‘Morning People’ (or, as they can alternately be called, ‘Not Evening People’) pretty well since I am one.
When I was in college, I tried being an evening person. You know, staying up til all hours trying to get projects finished for classes.
It wasn’t until after I graduated and discovered (through an odd series of events) that I did much better work much faster in the mornings than I did at night when everyone else was grabbing coffees and getting down to brass tacks.
What should have been a dead giveaway to my inability to work at night is that, unless I was careful to prepare myself with attitude and caffeine, I would start becoming useless by ten or eleven. Work slowed to a crawl and as the night wore on, I found myself thinking I heard voices or that there were people in the apartment with me, or I would just waken hunched over my drawing board with a tiny, intricate scribble in place of what I had, moments before and unconsciously, believed to be a finished drawing of a fish.
So there you go. If you have a magic trick that needs doing around Hubris, knock his hat off.
