You're the best, around.

I think the worst thing you can do is put a bunch of women in a room together. Like, I really think it's the worst thing ever. They can all be great, wonderful people individually but when you put them all together to play board games... it sucks. It's a mess because they don't know how to organize themselves. There's no order, just chaos. Chaos and loud, obnoxious women. What is it about women that makes them so loud and obnoxious when they congregate? Bunch of uncivilized savages.

And I, of course, am the wildly unbiased observer.

I drew this in a rush, which explains why the background only has one color instead of three (which would have indicated layering) and why it just generally looks rushed. There is an actual plan to this story arc, but I couldn't resist responding to the comments my friend was making. I was running late to the Women in Medicine meeting which was actually interesting during the lecture portion. I also didn't get a chance to fold my laundry so now all my shirts are wrinkled and it sucks. But next week I'll section out more time for the comics so I don't try to blow through something complex in an hour.

This week has been going so incredibly well. I don't even believe it. I feel like a new man for some reason. Talking while eating is easier. Talking in general is easier. I feel like I'm finally just opening up. Finally, really, actually trusting.

Which is pretty exciting.

Comments

No, Holmes, no!

All I ever think about these days is how much I have to/want to study. I hope that's not how I have a good time, now. Would I rather go hang out with peeps or would I rather sit in and study? It is a difficult question to answer. Just a couple more days and then I can focus all my energy on the next greatest idea I've ever had: iconic detectives and sharks.

I wonder, sometimes.

I am standing on the edge of a cliff face. A breeze whips past me as I stare out into the darkness. It's a familiar sight, comforting. The river bends below me. It stretches out, away from me at both ends. The arch of the bridge traverses the river, silhouetted by the house lights and golf course below us. So far away from us. The highway reaches out before us, straight into the hills and disappears on the horizon. It is silent. There are no cars. No planes. No animals. It is just us standing on top of the cliff. As it should be. It's late. A late weeknight. Just a normal Tuesday night to the world. I step away from the edge. In 5 minutes, I will be 22 years old. It's a turning point in my life. A fixed checkpoint. I'm only 21 years old, I'm not an actual adult yet. Maybe legally. But I'm still a child. I'm immature, I laugh at fart jokes. I laugh at everything. Why would I take anything seriously? 21 years old and we still have no responsibilities. We c...

Side effects include constant irritability, being an ass.

It was a typical day in MUS 307 . A typical day where nobody pays attention to anything the professor talks about. A day where people play shitty flash games instead of take notes. A day where people sit and refresh their Facebook newsfeed instead of follow the slides. A day where people roll their eyes and go to sleep instead of listen to the music examples. A day where people get up and leave ten minutes before lecture ends instead of having the God damn decency to stay the whole time and pretend to be interested. I mean, if you're going to be so unaffected by the music we're studying in class then why the fuck did you take the class in the first place? Fuck it makes me mad. And I haven't even started talking about that fucker who sits in the back and tries to whistle along with every song that gets played in class. Alright, dude, we get it: you are just too cool and you know everything about jazz, ever. You know every standard ever written and everybody's so...

everything is fine

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