It turns out I had this huge geeky safety net out there that I didn’t know about this whole time, made up of people who have been reading my comic for nine years but never contacted me.
Also, as a rule of thumb, if you find yourself defending your inalienable right to make someone else feel like garbage, you're on the wrong side of the argument.
I know it's an artistic cliche, but every time I look at my past work, I want to projectile vomit.
Sacrificing minions: is there any problem it CAN'T solve?
I think I just had an evilgasm.
You should have seen the look on your skull.
Hey, look, I just regenerated a finger. Guess which one.
