30 - Come on, Irene

30 - First Day of Production

30 - Draught

30 - Moviething

30 - Optometrist

30 - Laundry

30 - Draw Dogs with Your Eyes Closed

30 - Can you tell me how to get...

30 - TRY

30 - Raining Again

30 - 8/5/2011

Panel #1

Towers of Quarters stacked like shiny poker chips.

Panel #2

My 5 year old nephew.

Panel #3

A rich Turner-esque watercolor of the Ocean City, N.J. boardwalk at dusk. A row of bright shops, amusement parks and arcades as viewed from seventh street looking down the low horizon at an angle towards 12th street.

I can't tell you the last time I had this much fun.

The boardwalk at night is fun.

But it's even more fun when seen through the eyes of an indefatigable, exuberant, totally cool 5 year old.

We played pinball. Went on rides. Played air hockey. Ski-ball. The best.

30 - Paul in Athens

Los Comicos avec Niente Comicos, papi? Bien?

Panel 1

Homeboy, looking tired and dejected filled with instant coffee, ennui and cheap whiskey walks past an open air cafe. The atmosphere is warm, inviting and filled with the summer time kiss of fantastic promise and ridiculous possibility. For those who can afford it. He quickens his step to keep the wolves of desire from the door of his heart.

Panel 2

Homeboy compares his blown out Chuck Taylors with Guido Sarducci's patent leather power/money chaussures. Guido and not he will be getting all of the ladies tonight. He barely even remembers them.

Panel 3

Our man averts his gaze from a lovely young couple in a passionate embrace. Oh for fuck's sake. The loneliness twists in his right ventricle like some kind of vengeful hessian's hell-blade. Then He remembers all of the shitty stuff from his last two relationships and feels better. A little.

Panel 4

Homeboy screws his courage to the sticking post as his eyes find a reprieve from the garden of earthly Olde City Delights when they resolve, restfully on a vacant lot replete with overgrown flora and detritus. "Christ" he says with a sigh. He then buys a can at Mulberry Market and meets Sean for beer.

30 - Randy Pepper Cock

Oh ho, ho, ho Dear Readers.

It is yet another installment of "L'Opposite des Comiques Sans Mot Justes!"

All Right werds. No Drerrings.

Imagine if you will Gentle Reader a tired song that keeps playing on a tired radio. Imagine if you will that I won't tell no one your name.

Now Imagine Matthew Sweet.

Ploughing ahead.

In the first panel we read see a picture of Pikachu.

In the second panel we see a picture of Some stupid ass Yu-Gi-Oh shit.

you get the idea...

3rd panel: a Picture of Optimus Prime.

4th panel: a Go-Bot.

(You may at this point, make your own analogues, dear readers)

5th Panel: Our hero is in the aisles of a drab utilitarian supermarchet; little man holds two jars of peanut butter and asks our guy

"What's the difference?"

Our hero replies

"No difference: same shit different cans."

30 - 'Tito Crunch

I don't have any drerring implements today and maybe, for the rest of this week, for reasons I can't get into. So instead I'm going to describe, using only the power of words, a 3 panel strip that you can reconstruct and view in your mind, dear reader.

Panel 1.

A half eaten, semi-pulverized bag of lime-zest Tostitos.

Panel 2.

A 2 year old jar of Skippy Peanut Butter.

Panel 3.

I'm sitting at the kitchen table with a plastic fork in a bowl of Peanut Butter and crushed up lime-zest Tostitos. I'm enjoying these tangy, peanutty shards of joy when Sean walks in and asks me what I'm eating. I reply "'Tito Crunch."