Pajama Party

This one trumps them all

Despite its best effort, real life has failed to keep me from making a new comic. Some cosmic being is trying to tell me, "seriously, you shouldn't be drawing... If you can even call it drawing." But I do what I please, sensibility be damned. So here it is! At first I was going to make a super quick comic, since it's been a while. But then I ended up doing this thing, with different panels, and changing expressions, and even a cat. How does he do it all?!

I skim the news occasionally, if only to avoid doing actual work. I'm vaguely aware of what's going on out there. I know that none of it is good. Booze has been a constant companion for me, distracting me from all of the worlds' many many ills. The ice caps are going to melt in like, three days. I think all of the countries are dying horrible economic deaths. China is on red alert and telling its citizens, "um, please don't breath the air." And some asshole is ahead in the polls because all of us are weeping with rage and he's like a demon who feeds on delicious rage.

I know that being oblivious isn't the best response, or even a not-bad response. But at this point, making any effort to fix anything is like being the guy on the Titanic after it starts sinking who says, "you guys, that iceberg was, like, really small because of global climate change." Or like being the psychiatrist has to talk to a mass-shooter. "Um, maybe trying be less angry? Just a little? You could've used a squirt gun. That would've been annoying but still oh-so-much-better."

If it pisses you off that I make light of these things, it's because that's the only thing that keeps me sane. My body can only physically hold so much whiskey. After that I have to pretend everything is a big joke. And that tomorrow I will wake up and we'll have a unicorn for president who shits candy canes. I don't like candy canes, but I know lots of people do, so it would still be pretty cool. I'll take a candy shitting unicorn over what we have now any day.

~Fuzzy