Housekeeping

I’m a lying liar. This week’s strip wasn’t in the Dig. Sorry if I made you do any extra reading for nothing, especially if you’re dyslexic.

However, I finally got around to dropping off more copies of Erotic Scrimshaw at Million Year Picnic. Apparently they’re selling like hot cakes; stale hot cakes that sit on the shelf for a couple of weeks, but that’s still quick compared to a Twinkie’s shelf life.

My apologies to the DNC fundraiser I gave a couple bucks to at Harvard Square. I was flustered by all the LaRouche and Badnarik nutjobs and wanted to get out of there. I should’ve given you a sticker or something, but I instinctively sweat and run away at the sight of any attractive young Democrat.