drunk me can’t write jokes for nothin’
whose junk i gotta puff on to get a beer ain’t watered down to shit
been thinking a lot lately about comics that don’t have arcs in the traditional sense. we cling to narratives in media that have these perfect finite endings. punchlines. whatever. fin. as such the story closes, enabling us to happily go about our lives again. the characters reached the end of their tale and disappear. it replicates this false idea of closure that we as humans in our shitty complicated world can never actually achieve, but all the same is comforting and warm and fulfilling.
anyway. there are stories that don’t end with a “phew” or evoke that feeling of satisfaction. instead they bring out a fuck we do talk like that and we do say those things. the punchline is not going to be served to you, it’s to be found in the confrontation when a snapshot of your reality is presented and you have to struggle with and swallow that. or not. who gives a shit, i don’t make the rules. this confrontation is a lot more uncomfortable than a The End would be, but maybe you should feel uncomfortable. what the heck did you think comics were for.
i like reading what folks have to say about my stuff
serenade-zero asked: Are there going to be swordkill shirts or am I going to have to make my own with a marker
do it these are crazy times dog
some other versions i liked