Paste is where he wants to be. Nikki is where she needs to be, so Hubris absconded and went where he needed to be, right?
“All in their places with bright shining faces”
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2395 comics.
Wow. In the short time that I flip-flopped the way Hubris cartoons load (because of the GoComics restructure) I’m two weeks ahead of Hubriscomics at Patreon. It feels very weird.
When Hubris started running at GoComics, I had maybe three months of backlog between here and there. I whittled it down to three weeks or so by the end. I’m glad the two didn’t wind up simultaneous. That would have gone sideways, I’m sure.
Now, this main site is being subsidized by the Patreon site, so the lead time there is growing. Not something I foresaw when I decided to keep cranking out Hubris for a few more years, to be sure. Webcomics are odd beasts, but more fun than a barrel full of monkeys… at an OutdoorFest.
I think Dusty might have spent the previous evening mentally spending that ‘Consultant’ fee while not dealing with lighting engineers and interviewees.
Oh, you don’t wanna scorn a woman who’s made a career out of beating up wildebeests and savanna monitor lizards who’re trying to do her a bodily injury whilst the camera man says to stand a little closer to them.
Speaking of which, remind me to dig out the photo of me and a freakin’ bald eagle that my wife took right after she said, “See if she’ll let you put your arm around her!”
Damn eagles.
You’d think that, what with all the new and exciting stuff going on in his life, Paste wouldn’t have time to think “Hey, what if I just started a line of people. I bet I could eat my breakfast and enjoy sitting around while more people just added themselves to the line for no good reason whatsoever.”
He… probably wouldn’t have phrased it like that. Or even thought it through cohesively.
In fact, I sort of assume that most of what floats through his brain is a sort of instinctive mush of instructions and instigations that allow him to navigate his world. Evolutionarily, he’s the human equivalent of an avalanche. He happens, and whoever survives him has time to pass on their genes to the next generation. Those who aren’t wary enough to avoid him… well, dang… Darwin awards all ’round.
We all know that the spontaneous games are just as good- sometimes more spectacular- than the regularly scheduled programming. Except for that bowling ball ping pong thing that Them Duke Boys tried to get started. That was just a bad idea. I’m sure that the ambulance will be back soon enough though, and that little guy’s hand will eventually be just fine. Dunno about his foot. That looked bad.
By the way- it’s my birthday today! All you ‘Mericans grill something meaty over the weekend in celebration. Wave flags and have some watermelon, for heaven’s sake. Also, where it will not cause injury or loss of property, and where it is entirely and clearly legal to do so, please shoot off a colorful and attractive firework. I’ll take it as a compliment for my latest circuit around the sun.
That woman should try not to be surprised by so much. Of course, she was surprised by the fact that the guy in front of her doesn’t know what she thought he knew because she made an assumption…
So maybe she should try not to make so many assumptions. After all, the big guy never said he know which line it is.
I’m a little surprised myself- not by the line they’re in, but by how strange it is that the cartoons here at Hubriscomics.com are now no longer the ones that are days ahead of the ones at GoComics.com. Now, the ones here are ones that come out days after the ones at Patreon.com/Hubris and my brain is all scrambled. Juggling the comics has always been a little weird for me- it’s a webcomic after all, and there’s no editor calling up and saying that something’s misspelled or easily misinterpreted. Or due. Anyhow, the new system is (for those of you who haven’t already seen me post this). Patrons at Patreon get the strips pretty much the minute I’m done with them, and I’m trying to still crank out four a week. Then, I’m back to posting three a week here the way I did before GoComics suggested I do four a week for their site. So M-W-F to be best of my ability here- and crazy randomness with some background blogs and stuff over there.
If that interests you at all- for a buck a month, you can get the Patron emails with the latest cartoons and me rattling on about pacing, lettering, color, pens and whatnot. For four or five bucks a month, I’ll mail you some Hubris artwork and a Team Hubris patch for as long as those last. Feel free to check it out. And thank you- it’s those bucks-a-month that kept me from just wrapping Hubris up at the end of ten years back in November.
Hubris thinks what he thinks. He also knows that a lot of people who need therapy become therapists. And he knows that one of the first things you learn when becoming a therapist is that you can’t diagnose yourself or be your own therapist.
And so, Hubris thinks what he thinks. Maybe he ought to talk to a therapist?
Or a friend? Oh, wait…
Standing in lines. You know it’s gonna happen at festivals, and there’s nothing much you can do about it.
I mean, you can plan ahead and try to outmaneuver the crowds, but they’ll all doing the same thing YOU are, so… y’know.
The real difference with an outdoorsfest is that you have a bunch of woods right next to you, and for those people who aren’t squeamish about it… well, let’s just say that they don’t have to worry quite so much about adding length to the bathroom lines. They just have to worry about 1) how many and who’s been past the treeline before them and 2) therefore where they step, and 3) what was the description of poison ivy and poison oak and poison sumac, again? Are you sure?
So if we all rebel against our parents (and sometimes it’s not so much rebelling as just not really being bothered to take them as seriously as they’d like to be taken…) and your parents are all loosey-goosey and outdoorsy, but they TELL you to be all orderly and indoorsy, WHICH thing do you rebel against? And what if it’s the other way around and they work office jobs and tell you to become a flower child and join a commune?
Well, you rebel against what they SAY, of course… unless of course, they say it with a wink and a nod, then they’re HOPING you’ll rebel against that, in which case… Ah, forget it. Do what you do. They’re gonna say you’re rebelling anyhow. Turns out, it’s not up to you, but to whoever’s talking about you.
Everyone’s happy to know that Hubris doesn’t actually sleep in those weird outdated polo shirts, right?
Hubris has a drawer full of those shirts, and by golly, the especially torn-up ones would be good for PJs, wouldn’t they? Maybe tear the buttons off the collar. I dunno.
You know I’m not just assuming he owns torn-up ones. I’ve drawn a few into the strip over the years.
