“I just don’t want to belong to any club that would have someone like me as a member.” –Woody Allen
(paraphrasing Groucho Marx, who may or may not have been paraphrasing Freud)
(Preamble/Prologue/Sidenote: I realize that this post is like, what? almost a month late or something. I could heehaw about how “I got busy” and “I don’t have a scanner” and “my dog ate my laptop” and wah wah wah, but you don’t want to hear it and I don’t want to write it [even if I just did] so let’s just skip it, eh? I’ll be better next time, I swear, I’m good fer it!)
I know what you’re thinking: Regan Smith? Neurosis? Get right outta town. But the fact is, despite my regular calm, cool exterior, I am–like dear, disgusting Woody Allen up there–actually quite neurotic some of the time.
So, like any other dog-fearing citizen (seriously, my dog ate my laptop, if that isn’t a reason to be more afraid of canines than god then I don’t know what is), I’ve decided to deal with my neuroticisms by exposing them, and myself, in the form of SOME TOTALLY CRAPPY COMICS!!
There are a lot of these actually, but here are the ones I managed to scan at work before one of my fifteen bosses decided to come back from the bathroom like a weirdo. Things I will ask you to kindly disregard:
-Pencil lines (there are many)
-Repeated words (I have brain aneurysms)
-Poor scanning (it’s not my fault. realz)
ONE COMEEK, Ah Ah Ah:
I worry about becoming a stagnant, directionless, boring old biddy more often than is normal for a 23 year old semi-beboppin bitch.
TWO COMEEKS, Ah Ah Ah:
I obsess over people who are insanely talented in music, art, writing, etc. even though they probably all eat oatmeal for breakfast and go to bed at nine. Lameoids.
THREE COMEEKS! Ah Ah Ah:
I don’t think the internet likes me that much. It checked maybe on the Valetines “Bee Mine” Nasonex Bee card I gave it.