I wrote this in a hotel lobby in Alabama, laid it out in the Detroit airport, and I’m uploading it from Rochester.  Just had a hell of a glorious weekend at DeepSouthCon performing with a bunch of my contemporaries and the legendary Dr. Demento.  Balder was there as well, and I finally got to briefly meet Howard Taylor (Hi, Howard Taylor!)  And this after the Kickstarter for my new Worm Quartet album ended up 369% funded.  I am a happy tired Shoebox, full of linkable things.

I’m reasonably happy with the punchline on this strip, and hoping I still think so when I’ve had time to catch up on sleep.  The buildup seems a tad iffy to me, but I couldn’t work out a better way to get where I was going.  This story basically stems from two different lines of thought yanked from my own experiences.  On one hand, it really sucks when somebody goes away on vacation and leaves error-filled crap behind for the poor non-vacationing schmucks to clean up.  On the other hand, how glorious would it feel to smack the compile button, slap down an obnoxious satisfying post-it, and run off to parts warm and sunny?

The text of said post-it, incidentally, is inspired by a true story involving Balder, my bathroom, and a tiny vibrating psycho dog.

See you later this week!