I considered having her call the kids ‘Nutlets.’ But only for a very short moment.
The madness passed.
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Comic
2374 comics.
I don’t think there’s a correct use of umlauts in this whole comic.
We’re doing the Bob Newhart thing again today.
If you don’t know what that means, you go get a copy of ‘The Button Down Mind of Bob Newhart’ in whatever format you like. I think the original release was on wax cylinder. It’s good, though. Someday, when all albums are sold by instantaneous thought transfer, people will still be like, “Well, I guess I gotta buy the Bob album again…”
I thought about putting this photo on Patreon so that only patrons could see it. But I don’t wanna run ’em off or anything. Nice people.
I also thought maybe I’d put it in the blog section of the website, but then, it’d be there whenever anyone scrolled down a bit- maybe for months.
Then, I figured I’d just dump it here so anyone morbid enough could get a look, but it’ll be buried in the archives or something and no lasting harm will be done to people’s eyes and minds.
Looky! Bruise!
The dates and lines are where they were keeping track of how far and fast it was spreading. Yick.
Eventually, it was all over my leg, more or less. Now, it’s mostly from the knee down.
Okay, look away now. If… You… Can.
Kara’s dad is loosely based on a teacher I knew a long time ago. I probably didn’t understand him at all, but what I decided way back then about him works pretty well as a cartoon character. Who I was at the time would work pretty well as a cartoon character, too, now that I think of it.
Motivation is fun to write about.
So I’ve gotten to the point in my recovery where all the blood that escaped a vein and poured into the interstices of my hip and other bits has, because of gravity and other irritating realities, pooled in my calf and ankle.
It was less uncomfortable when it was spread out through my whole leg and hip. I mean, it’s a lot of goo to fit in such a little space where it doesn’t belong. Also, while I’m probably getting better at the same rate I’ve been tripping along at, the bit that’s still healing is more and more localized as I go.
I’ve seen the comments you guys have made, and I realize that I don’t have it a fraction as bad as a lot of people, and of course, I sit at a drawing table and a computer on many days, so it’s not like I have to load tractors with sacks of barley or something…
What it all boils down to is that I needed a thing in this space and all I can think about is how much my dang calf aches.
I usually try to avoid the same old stuff that so many of the other webcomics hinge upon- 20-something sex angst, unadmitted video game addiction, dungeons and fire breathing lizards, and comic book nerdery. But today… I let my inner nerdery fly a bit.
I’ve been doing cartoons for a long time. In the family strip I do, The Buckets, I’ve had lots of time to study various human traits and weave them into the humor.
You may have noticed the same things I have, but because of non-cartooning reasons.
Stuff like- People rarely seem to understand when the humor is about them. And, people seem to hate worst in others the traits that they don’t like in themselves (and that often define their own behavior) And, of course, nobody much likes it when they have to think about the psychology behind the comic strips to get the gag.
And cartoonists are apparently full of themselves.
Ever check out the weird corners of those old shops that have been there under possibly erratic management? There’s good stuff there, piled up under boxes and languishing behind display cabinets.
There was stuff in my grandfather’s shop that he had no memory of stocking. It was pretty silly.
