I went back to my day job this week after a full seven days of road-tripping, mind-tripping, and ego-tripping, and you know what? It was kind of nice.
I'm not kidding. As much as I love the fantasy world of comic-dom, and as happy as I may be lounging around at home in pajamas, a steady diet of reality is healthy. It feels good. For those of you dreading getting out into the 'real world' and getting 'real jobs,' quit with the fear thing. Fear should be the enemy's problem. If you play your cards right the real world can be fairly warm and comfortable. You'll still have to work hard, but unless you're born rich hard work is part of all your options anyway.
(Naturally I've been paid to write the above paragraph by the Evil Collective of Day-Job Employers, who would like nothing better than to assimilate, brain-wash, and suck the marrow out of the world's dream-bound youth. Fortunately, I was paid a lot!)
In other news, I saw a couple of movies this week. Jurrassic Park III was fun, and Planet of the Apes lived up to the promise of the original. But with both of those movies behind me, I want to see sequels. Specifically, I want to see crossover sequels... Planet of the Apes discovers Isla Nublar, and we get apes vs. velociraptors, with a hefty dose of gigantasaurus smashing down the Statue of Liberty.
(Note to movie producers: for a price, I'll even write the script. And not only will it put hair back on your chest, it'll knock your socks off--and the socks will stick to the wall when they hit. I'm that good, I tell you...)
Hmmm... seems like I don't quite have all the fantasyland out of my system yet.
You may be wondering about the buffer... how many strips do I have stacked up in advance of the crashing wave of the Now? Well, when I got back from San Diego I'd hit an all-time low of twelve. Today, a mere six days later, I'm up to a more respectable twenty-five. If you do the math, that's nineteen strips in six days. I am the schlock mercenary.
Speaking of which, go buy a schlock t-shirt!. That is all.