I have many stories brewing, slowly piecing themselves together, connected by page after page of giant brainstorm (no, not like Tracy Jordan’s) blobs with high-falutin’ concepts that don’t really translate to anything. And with two large web projects finishing up in the next few weeks, all I can extract from my 8-bit fingertips is that ridiculous 4-panel comic diarrhea squirt, possibly usable as court evidence of a wack job. (If not a HACK JOB! Bwahaha.)

Today I ventured to Near North Side (or so says Google Maps) to take some photos of Scott Urban for the upcoming issue of Hey, 4-Eyes!, Robyn Chapman’s venerable zine of glasses fetishism. Should be out fairly soon, despite the near impossibility to get artists, especially comic artists, to adhere to any sort of deadline. I’m nearly the worst example in this case, having put off getting a comic to Robyn forever. (My move cross-country aside, I have had plenty of time to get off my ass and illustrate something!)

I bought Apple’s new fancy in-ear headphones because my old ones fall out constantly and, as they are notorious for, sound like aural turd. Unfortunately, they only made me realize I really don’t like stuffing objects into my ear canal. (Cue up lewd replies to that zinger.) Besides, once you get a good seal so the bass kicks in, if you happen to be walking (**gasp** out and about with your portable music player?) each one of your steps sounds like a building is crashing INSIDE of your head. Why the fuck do people like these types of headphones? I should have just got an adapter so I can use my SR-80s.

In less geeky news, my clown hair and bona fide work-from-home scraggly beard are coming along nicely. I am once again flooded with the gut-sensation that I will be forever single. So will you when you look at this photo! (Realize my singledom, not that you, personally, dear reader, will be single forever.)