It’s been a surprisingly good week for me, if you were at all curious about the man behind the curtain, the wizard behind the Oz. But who cares about that, let’s talk about a week of comics that was probably way better than it needed to be. TEBIOS! Because hell, I think this gimmick has legs, at least until I run out of recognizable languages to translate it into.
Hey look! I have returned from the ashes, like a tiny child playing in the fireplace too long. Let’s bring it back with a bang as I talk about too many comics over the last two weeks, and I probably regret doing this. Ready? Let’s start.
In December, I made a short post about what a month of comics looks like for me numbers-wise, which involved one of my favorite things: obsessing over weird shit. This month, I brought it back with 5000% more pretty graphs and exactly as much talk about ladies in comics.
Got some marbles? Do you have all the marbles? HA! I thought not. But you don’t care, you’ve got comics, and sometimes that’s ok. It’s nice here, in Comicsland. It’s warm, and numb, and sometimes these little stapled bits of paper might make you feel something. COMICS! Read ’em or weep.
Sometimes you just want to dance until your heart stops, which is impossible because you are a dancing robot, and you have no heart. You have no heart, and you must cry. You also don’t have eyes or tear ducts. So you dance. The dance you do is the robot. DUCK YOU SUCKERS, IT’S TIME FOR COMICS