Sean Duffy just called me personally! to invite me to a “meet with your asshole representative thing!!!”

It’s at 7:30 tomorrow morning over in Superior. I have to go over to Superior tomorrow anyway, just not at 7:30 in the morning. I might have to change my plans. Just for you, dickhead.

(Yes. I swear. I worked in factories. I try to not, especially for you people. Sometimes it seems appropriate.) (And it bothers me that dickhead isn’t in the computer’s dictionary. Do I continue using it, just to be a rebel? “Take that, omnipresent spell check!” Or do I add it in, making a statement about the unfortunately still-high levels of dickheads in the world?)

Anyway. I just finished a comic called Digger. It’s really good, and sweet, and sad, and I’m at loose ends now that it’s over. Wombats. Dead gods. Hyenas. Excellent story, excellent art. I might buy the print edition.

I got no pictures. I got pretty much nothing. I put something in an art show over in Superior, and the opening is tomorrow. We were supposed to get this shitload of snow, but I don’t think it’s going to happen. I can’t really blame the weather people, because the weather has gone crazy and here we have the crazy-multiplier of an enormous heat sink – the Lake. There is the view out my living room window of the next-door neighbors’ house with snow blowing off the roof and smoke from the chimney, and blowing pines reflected in a window that is curtained with palm trees and hibiscus flowers. But aside from that, nothing.