The webcomics blog about webcomics

My Righteous Fury Is Getting The Better Of Me

I don’t regret this request in the slightest and if you read this, you’re obligated to help make the wishes of future dead me come true.

To be clear, I don’t have the novel coronavirus (at least, not to my knowledge) and haven’t had any symptomatic patients (although it’s a virtual certainty I’ve had asymptomatic patients that had no idea they had the NoCo). And since the orange self-trepanator seems to actually be getting stupider and worse at managing any aspect of the pandemic and therefore trying to kill me, I feel justified in pre-planning my moist, sticky revenge.

Other people, naturally, are nicer and better than me; one of my go-to examples of a fundamentally good person would be Colleen AF Venable, who I note today is full of good cheer and congratulations for the finalists in the 2020 Exellence In Graphic Literature Awards, including her Kiss Number 8 co-creator Ellen T Crenshaw. Let’s check out who in webcomic-adjacency is getting recognized:

The books that don’t have a relationship to webcomics look pretty awesome, too. Winners will be announced in early April, and in theory be presented at the Denver Pop Culture Con on Saturday, 4 July. We’ll have to see about that last part.

Spam of the day:

Big money – [link in PDF file] # Sk3.Mg.1n0T

You must think that I just fell off of a turnip truck if you expect me to fall for that.

Speaking of which, why is it particularly turnip trucks that mark you as especially stupid if you fall off of them? Why not beet trucks (I hate beets, so falling off to get away seems like a good thing to me) or a green bean truck?

My friend Randy from college worked one summer at a green bean cannery, where dump trucks full of green beans would pull up to a particular spot and Randy would maneuver a giant, vacuum-powered suction apparatus over the top and hoover up all the green beans for sorting (got to get rid of the jimson weed that gets mixed up with the beans), cleaning, steaming, and canning.

Eight to ten hours a day through the harvest season, position the bean-sucker, hit the button, send ’em to the line. Except for the excitement when a critter that decided to nap in a truck full of green beans was accidentally introduced into the process — Sanitation crew to tower three, we got a skunk in the sucker — it was a boring, if lucrative job. He summed it up when we returned to classes as Green beans suck, and I suck green beans. He works for an aerospace company as an engineer, which I think makes him an actual rocket scientist.

Anyway, turnip trucks. Didn’t fall off one o’ them, or any other kind of truck.

My guess is that it’s “turnip trucks” because of the consonance.

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