Archive for February, 2009


You all have Alex to thank for today’s comic, otherwise you would not be seeing one today.

Things have been strange lately. I’ve been trying to straddle a weird bridge between being happy for the first time in ages and channelling incredible rage into my creativity and so far I haven’t been able to do it in an effective way.

On top of this, I have hardly seen my housemates for the past week or so, something I feel incredibly guilty about, and I’m reluctant to draw things about them if I can’t do it in some semi-accurate way. Another factor is that I fucking hate doing these cat-based comics. Yes, I know, we have a lot of cats coming to house now, begging for food (much to Jack’s eternal delight) but I am getting sick and tired of doing them. The reason they keep cropping up – there’s another one heading this way next week – is because of the aformentioned problems. Cat comics are easy to draw.

Time is also a factor. Besides the new responsibilites with Nikki, I have started reading and writing (ZOMG! What I paid to learn to do!) and I’ve even begun to play games less. Only a few weeks ago, I finally finished Dead Space, a game I got for Christmas, and now I’ve begun slowly cracking into Okami, another Christmas game. Don’t even get me started on CoD: World at War, because I haven’t even seen it yet. Resident Evil 5 is the exception. I will be making time for that next week, at the expense of all else, so don’t be surprised to find nothing up here for a while.

Anyway, rant over.

Tl;dr? Emo whine.




How will Thomas abuse Jack further? Find out next week!


Yeah, not entirely sure myself.



Tink is awesome and this is the proof.



Thomas is becoming aggressive. He’ll come in and let you stroke him, but if he senses that he’s not getting food, he’ll leave.



Strange girl.



It ended up being a very good man-night.



This actually happened. I laughed so hard I strained a testicle.



Just today he chased another cat out of our garden. I hope we’re not encouraging him to be greedy. He’s already getting fat.



What? I know how to treat ladies.

Also, 6,000! Bloody hell.