Now we know how they’ll be financing their first dinner date.
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On the local park trails, someone spilled glitter. The dogs trod it all around. The rain and wind scattered it around.
You do not want to own any clothes with glitter on them.
You don’t.
I haven’t done the WNBR idea justice in the strip, only mined the surface strata for some funny bits. Consequently if you wanted to know how to do one, or what they’re like, or when and where they really are, I haven’t been any help at all. But, I know at least one reader is a WNBR participant… and he or any others that have participated are more than welcome to comment and let readers know about the reality of the things.
Comic strips and reality aren’t a great mix. Not the point, really.
If anyone (and in my case, it was my kids) calls you out on what you just stated (in my case it was, “Take a bath”, I think), sometimes your best recourse is to ask, “Did you think I was lying, kidding, or wrong?” Because, think about it. If you ask someone something, or tell someone something, and they balk at either obeying or believing, then they must have thought you were… follow along here… lying, kidding, or wrong. There’s not another option, unless you were thinking ‘Sarcasm’ could be available.
Now, when my kids were young and I told them to do something, and they didn’t… I could ask them to tell me which one of these things I was. And they had no answer because they knew they’d ignored me not for one of those reasons, but because they’re humans with their own minds. They didn’t want to take a bath. Or clean their rooms, or whatever it was.
Feel free to go and sit around the campfire with your favorite intoxicating beverage one night and work out the solution to that problem. I’d suggest applying it to politics in general, which is always a good starting point for solving the world’s problems.
(oh, admit it. If you’ve ever been camping, you KNOW that all the world’s problems can be solved while sitting around a campfire intoxicated)
Well, reading the strip is different with the new format- I knew that would be the case… but what I didn’t know is that writing the new format would be different also.
Somehow, I assumed that I’d be writing the strip the exact same way and then working the drawings into this new and daring vertical stack.
But it doesn’t work that way.
My brain short circuits when faced with this new shape to fill. The almost automatic way I visualized the traditionally shaped strip was out the window and impossible to retrieve. It’s very weird.
So, I’m going to stick with the new format until it has a chance to take hold, then see if it really does work to my advantage and yours.
For those of you who don’t like to scroll down to read a whole strip, I apologize. But the fact is that it does allow me to unveil a gag to you by degrees instead of allowing you your ingrained 2 second comic strip reading time. Did you know that’s what they discovered about traditional comic strips in the newspaper? 2 seconds. That’s what the average person spent on each average strip. Bam. Two. It’s not that I’m trying to bog you down or anything, but the web allows for the art form to be approached and consumed in a different mode. The different mode might actually be psychologically advantageous, for the sake of more room to tell a joke, if not for the jolt of seeing an old thing in a new form.
So. In a couple of weeks we’ll see if I’ve made something good or something just different. And then we’ll see if it’s worth keeping.
You guys continue to let me know your votes on it in the comment section. And if anyone wants to keep count of the ‘pro’ and ‘con’ opinions, well, by golly, I’m not going to stop you. Just lemme know what you discover, right?
Tax Day, for those of you in the ‘States. Also, it’s my Sister-In-Law’s birthday. Happy Birthday! According to tradition (my tradition) your gift will be late. Again. It’s here, it’s been here, and I’m too disorganized to spend an hour to box it, wrap it, stick a note on it and take it to the U-Mail-It place. I suck, but on the other hand, you’re far enough away that you don’t have to suffer through me singing “Happy Birthday to You”, which can make ears bleed from half the house away. Therefore- Happy Birthday!!
What do they tell the cops when they get there? “Yes, we called because the lady was having a fit of some kind. No, we weren’t able to keep her here, because Bob gave her his pants.” and “Her description? Well, let’s see, 5’5”, brown hair, glasses, and waving a pair of men’s surf shorts over her head shouting “Different Ones!”… “What’s that officer? Oh. The shorts were red.”
