Hey all! I'm finally back. Thanks for waiting so nicely.

New stuff up on Lily's and my etsy shop! Some of her marvelous hats, and a few brand new geisha dolls and Skelebuddies! Help two broke-arse gals and check it out.

Etsy Buy Handmade voodoopastry

Another silly bit of fluff, but please, for the love of mike, watch this, and prepare to feel so good. A marvelous video...



All right, kangaroos, your comic is finally here. Sorry I couldn't post it last week but I hope you'll dig it anyway. Enjoy!

*zombie moan*

I'm so sorry, guys. I'm sick. At first I thought it was vog-related (the volcanic fog in Hawaii is an often unseen menace that has been killing my allergies lately) but now I'm sure I've caught whatever flubug The Boyfriend has. We were so pathetic last night, coughing and groaning and shivering. I should not be at work today, but I am.

What's worse is that as a result I don't have your comic for today. Every time I tried to finish it, I just needed to lie down. Really sorry, everyone. I'll try to finish it by tonight.

In the meantime I have to pretend I'm not sick so the customers won't get mad at me. Oy vey.

I can't quite account for it -- I've been so busy lately that I seem to have gotten nothing done at all. How does that happen?

My puffers didn't make it. I'm told this is pretty normal for that variety. After a respectable period of mourning I went back to the only logical and comfortable alternative -- the trusty and cheerful goldfish. I have two, quite pudgy and marvelous, named Pepper and Pickle. They really seem to love each other; they're always nosing each other and sticking close.

It's been raining here for days. Sometimes I love it, sometimes I wish it would stop.



Happy comic day, folks! Enjoy this one -- writing it made me chuckle, which is unusual.

Finally I get to use the Carmen Miranda icon I made...

All right, kids, have a comic. A SEVERE sinus attack is making me want to die, so I'll keep this brief. The Boyfriend and the Star Trek original series are keeping me afloat.

As to the gardening in this toon, since I can't actually do it, I'm using the cartoon as a means of making it almost true.

Enjoy!

It's a mixed bag this week, 'roos. On the downside, I'm being completely ignored by my coworkers, I'm swamped with projects I can't walk away from, I can't manage to cook anything new and interesting, and I think my last surviving puffer might soon buy the farm. The other two disappeared and Aramis, the last one, started swimming erratically and floating. I have no idea what I'm doing wrong.

On the upside, my etsy shop is doing so well in its first week that I already made seventy bucks! I can't help but be excited about that. Plus, my boyfriend is great, my family is great, and I am great.

So, a little bit of a lot of things. Let's have a comic, eh?




I'm fully convinced this happens almost nightly. Yes, the comic is dark, but that's just because it's night. See, I'm all artsy like that. :p Enjoy, all!

Hey everyone! I've torn myself away from Twin Peaks long enough to give you tonight's comic. Enjoy!

Hey all! Finally got up my etsy shop!






For these items and a ton more, go check out my brand spankin' new shop, Domestic Voodoo!

And if voodoo supplies aren't your thing, don't worry. I'll be listing a lot of different items that I've made, including some geisha nesting dolls. I'm also hoping that this shop will include my awesome sister and her crafts, so keep your eyeballs peeled for all that goodness.

Please enjoy!


Home sick from work today. Once I start feeling less oogy I'll get up and clean the house, but until then, I'm working on cartoons and crafts. Hope you're all well.

Sorry I'm late again! I'm getting pretty good about rushing for the deadline, but it's still a bad habit and I had to pack it in last night so I could sleep. One of my major distractions, of course, was my three new friends in my fish tank.

After a respectful period of mourning for my extremely cool and departed fish Levi, I've done my research, prepared my tank and acquired three little pea puffers! They are tiny, only about as big as half a fingernail. They're camera shy as a breed, but they look like this...



I've named them Athos, Porthos and Aramis. Naturally I can't tell which is which, but ah well. So far they're staying alive and eating like champs! Wish me luck.


Here's your comic for today! I hope you dig it. And just so you know, a proper book is coming soon!

The new quote of the week is brought to you by my mother, who -- looking at a photo of myself, her and my sister wherein I am unknowingly bucking out my front teeth to chaw on my bottom lip like a demonic bunny -- said, with no prompting, "Well, you don't really look like a retard."

XD


I am getting under-the-weather again, and this time it's creeping me out because the crazy zombie flu has made it to the island with force, and I don't have insurance so I can't see a doctor. I'm taking lots of vitamins, but hopefully this will be nothing.


This week's comic is pretty close to how it actually happened. Some names have been changed to protect, well, me. Please enjoy!

Quote of the Week: "I don't think I have delusions of grandeur... but I am their god." -- The Boyfriend, referring to his sea monkeys.

I now have a rather serious crush developing on Zachary Quinto. O no, Quinto!

Leviathan, my fish, isn't eating. He's just sitting in one corner, moving as little as possible. I can't see any outward signs of being sick. Any fish experts have an idea?

EDIT: Thanks anyway, fish experts, but poor Levi died this morning. I am pretty bummed -- I loved my crazy one-eyed goldfish.

In happier news, in one of my drop-off art classes, one of my favorite kids -- a freckle-faced goofball named Dan -- wanted a story. I didn't have one on me at the time, since stories were usually reserved for a different part of class, so I just said, "Once upon a time there was a frog who loved a princess so they got hitched, the end." This did not satisfy him, and the rest of my class was starting to back him up in demand for a story, so I just made one up with no idea of how it would end when I started it.

"Once upon a time there was a ship full of dirty rotten pirates..."

But then the story grew. There was a pirate king and a ghost and three tasks, and it was silly and nonsensical as well as interesting, and I managed to come up with a proper ending as well. It was good. It satisfied the moppy-haired masses. They kept their eyes on me the whole time. They laughed at the right parts. They clapped at the finish.

So I'm writing it down.

I will share what I have when I have aught to share. Until then, I have a comic for you...

My life is in a confusing spot just now. I find myself pretty lonely in between working because The Boyfriend is also working twice as much as I am, these crazy hours of mandatory overtime that really ought to be illegal and probably are. Without him around, I find myself reaching out for anyone who might be around, and in that I sometimes get burned. I recently talked to an old friend who I'd missed dearly, only to find that he hadn't missed me, and didn't seem to care or even notice that he'd completely dumped our friendship once he got a girlfriend. At least, this is how it came across. This was a real bummer, and it seemed to enhance the loneliness for a little bit.

There is an end in sight, it will get better, it's just a ways off. I'm sure a lot of you out there in different time zones are going through the same thing. I wish we could catch up on the phone when you're not already in bed or I'm not at work. We shall all endeavor to hang in there.

I feel comfortable with you guys, even those of you who I don't know personally -- you who are reading this are, in part, a comfort zone for me, and I wish I could grab you all together and have a massive slumber party. I could use one. Or maybe just the slumber part...



In the meantime, I will paint and draw for you, and for those who will pay me for it. ;)

Please enjoy today's cartoon and, I beg you, take it in the spirit of fun in which it is intended.

I'm sick. I think I have dengue fever.

Okay, not really. Just a head cold. But still. It could be dengue fever.

Today I got to see The Boyfriend for maybe twenty minutes between his coming home and going to bed. The rest of the day was spent coughing and drawing. I do have a few interesting tidbits for you, though.

The first is an article, Bitchin' Kitchen style, that I just posted on my other livejournal, Haole If You Hear Me, which, if you ever plan on taking the bus here in Hawaii, or if you just want to cackle at what I've endured in doing so, you may want to read.

The second is this...

I found her by accident but this photo cracks me up. A recently crowned beauty queen, covered in sausage. She was evidently made Hot Dog Queen. The unexplained "Zion" headdress deepens the craziness. Best photo ever.


And now my comic, which I drew, inked and greyscaled all today, a record for me. Please enjoy!

There's a lot that I could say about today -- about a screaming primadonna kid in art class, about how my cat bites me every time I try to pet him, about our fabulous taco night, about selling geisha dolls and paintings, but to be honest, I just gotta sleep. The Boyfriend and I have been working like nuts -- him waaayyy more so than me since he's on friggin' MANDATORY 14 hour shifts including Saturdays (they recently switched it from 12 to 14 hours to try and get him to shove paperclips into his eye sockets), and I'll be pulling six days a week as well.

What I really want is to go to Ko Olina, sit under a palm tree and eat grapes with my sister. I miss being in Hawaii. Living in trashy, gray, dismal, pot-soaked Wahiawa and working in meth-capital crazy person central Aiea, is not what I call living in Hawaii.

Yada yada. I'mm happy tonight anyway. Got a goldfish, got a comic, got a good man, got a tummy full of tacos, I'm all set.



Enjoy the comic! This totally comes from real life.

I started out as a skinny kid. I was so skinny, in fact, that my parents assumed something must be wrong with me and, upon finding that my overactive thyroid gland had blessed me with the metabolism of Wonder Woman, somehow decided that this was a problem that needed to be solved. The doctors -- all men with no concept of how vital it is to be a size one in your formative years -- completely reversed my good fortune, slowing my metabolism to a snail's pace. Ever since then, I've only had to look at a photo of a doughnut to gain five pounds.

Because of this, I have never been The Pretty Chick. You know the one -- she stands out when she's walking in a group of her friends, who all look like water buffaloes next to her. She has impeccable hair and clothes, straight teeth, she can walk in heels without looking as awkward as a baby giraffe, and she always has an itty bitty waist.

It's important to be one of these girls when you're a teenager. If you do not belong in the Pretty Group, there are only two other places for the likes of you: the Ugly Group, and the Nobodies. The Ugly Group is never really as bad as it sounds, because the Uglies have comeraderie. They stick together and defend each other, forming a protective shield of ugliness around one another. But if you are not quite ugly enough to be in the Uglies, and certainly not pretty enough to be in the Pretties, you're a Nobody, and we are completely invisible.

I've managed to push my way out of that category since High School, having gained recognition and acclaim for my ginormous gazungas, but I still belong to the Chub Club, and my membership may never expire.

It wasn't until several weeks ago that I realized things had gotten out of hand. I can still fit into my clothes, I can still see my feet, and I am still able to see plenty of people on the bus who give me that incredibly comforting feeling of "At least I'm not that guy", which is very important to have when you're in the Chub Club. That tenuous little thread of security snapped during the art class I teach, when one of my five year olds said, "Miss Kit, it looks like you're gonna have a baby."

I was astounded. I mean sure, kids have no discretion about their thoughts, and anyone bigger than their mom is considered fat, and since this boy's mom had -- to my dismay -- lost her enormous tummy as soon as she gave birth to her new baby and immediately shrank back into a size six, I knew I couldn't take it too personally. I tried to set him to rights.

"No, I'm not having a baby, hon."

"Yes you are," he said.

"Okay, go away. Go do something."

I finally decided that the time had come for something drastic. I have tried everything, including a pricey gym membership which, nine moths and nearly six hundred American dollars later, had done zilch for me. With the market being saturated with organic, natural, herbal remedies to my problem, I figured, now must be the safest time to try the pill method.

I browsed the diet section at the store, puzzling over products that contained, not chemicals or medicines with names I couldn't wrap my tongue around, but delicious fruits. Everything I saw that claimed fat burning capability was composed of cranberry, blueberry, acai berry, pomegranate or pineapple. I found myself getting hungry while looking at pills that were supposed to stop all that nonsense.

"These are good," said a woman next to me, holding up a packet of green tea extract pills.

She was thin herself, so much so that I was almost mad at her for perusing the diet section when she should really be at Macy's trying on jeans I couldn't have fit a single leg into. Still, I reckoned, these green tea thingies clearly worked for her, so why not give it a shot?

At the checkout, the cashier scanned the box and then paused, scrunched his eyebrows, and dialed for a manager, a sure sign that I would be standing there until the next election. I immediately went into panic mode. When a cashier calls for a manager I get the same feeling of anticipating danger as back in school when a teacher asked to see me after class, or at work when the boss called me into the office.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked the cashier.

"Nono," he said. "Well, I dunno. It's like, cough syrup, you know?"

Buh? Yes, of course I know exactly what you're saying. TALK MORE!

"There's a limit to how much cough syrup you can buy cause I guess if you get a certain amount you can make meth."

"Meth?" I said. "God, I can't even make lemon squares."

"Well yeah, so it's probably something like that."

"Uh... then maybe I should re-think this thing..." But we both just stood there, waiting for middle management, like the barrel-scrapers we both secretly were. As we waited, I had time to sincerely contemplate my impending purchase. What was I about to swallow, here? What, when you can scamper off with booze, cigarettes and fireworks with scarcely a glance at your ID, would merit disturbing a manager from her Cheetos break before taking it home and putting it in your mouth?

After about six months the manager arrived -- a vision in square spectacles and fem-mullet -- and she squinted at the cashier's screen which was shielded from my view. It could have said any number of things on that mysterious monitor, notices popping up in response to my dangerous diet product: CRIMINAL. CRACK DEALER. Or, which I most feared and suspected, FAT GIRL.

Cashier Boy and Mullet Lady knew something about me, some terrible secret that I might not have known myself, or would find out the hard way.

Mullet Lady tapped in a code, they looked at my ID, and that seemed to be the end of it. They were both prepared to move on and let me walk away with a possible arsenic cocktail. I decided I'd better speak up.

"So, is there anything in these I should know about?" I asked. "Because if there's crack in these, I don't think I want them."

Our Lady of Perpetual Mullitude squinted at the box with all its professions of all-naturalness and looked for some giveaway in the ingredient listing like "cocaine" or "acid" or "hobo-maker" or "ground up kitten bits". I watched her read, waiting for some sign that I should give up and accept my lifetime membership to the Chub Club.

After a few minutes she harumphed and walked off without another word. The cashier looked at me.

"So... she didn't answer your question, did she?" he asked.

"No," I said. "But if I come back and I'm a zombie, I'll have my receipt."

Ooog. I am way sick, man. I stayed from work today, and with luck, I'll be on my feet again tomorrow. The worst part is that my fish, Levi, is sick also, and he looks just awful. I think he must have some sort of fungal infection, but I won't go deeper into it cause it's really unpleasant. I hope he'll be okay -- I immersed him in a buttload of fishy medicines, so keep your fingers crossed for my poor one-eyed fish pal.

The Boyfriend's comic last week got a hell of a response! I'm so happy y'all seemed to like his style. He was worried, but I wasn't. This week it's back to me, but I'm sure he'll do more guest comics soon.

It's late, of course, but only by a matter of hours. It's still Wednesday! Please enjoy.

I finished my painting commissions and I have about twenty more to get to, which makes me feel so important, it's crazy. I'll post pictures soon but for now it's time for a way special edition of Snap Crackle Pop!

The Boyfriend is giving me the gift of a small, very small, break from routine, and has volunteered to be my guest artist! That way, I get a break, he gets some fun, y'all still get your comic PLUS you get a taste of his extremely cool old-school Jack Kirby influenced comic style. I friggin' love what he did for this week and I'm curious to see what's next. I told him he has full license. For now. ;)

Anyway, here you are, your comic for this week! Please enjoy!

Time for a photopost! I get to let you lovely folks in on what the hell I've been ding with my time, apart from singing to babies and tossing toddlers.

Please enjoy!



( Plant Life & Voodoo Workshop )

Finally, getting it in on time today.

I've been swamped with projects as well as work, and so I'm looking forward to falling into bed after posting this. I've been spending my time painting for money, watching the third season of The Venture Brothers and filling my pack with street rocks to scrub and bring to class so I can instruct two year olds in how to create Rock Pals. You bet my life is fun.

No more for now... need to make sleepy.


Today's cartoon is real life. I have this argument with Finn every single morning.

I will not admit that I'm getting sick, so just infer what you want. I really wish I didn't hate tea so much... or that I had any milk in the house to make a nice 'mater soup.

The main point is that I know I'm late, I'm sorry I'm such a bum, and I may be just a little sad that I didn't get any emails or phone calls reminding me that I'm a bum, but hey, you're all too nice. Ive been lagging behind because I have so many painting commissions to get to, some with deadlines, and my mom's birthday was on Tuesday and I've been at work more than usual as well.

I mentioned to The Boyfriend that I was contemplating a brief (brief!) hiatus, just to catch up, and his eyes lit up.

"Would you let me be your guest cartoonist in the meantime?"

I was delighted. It's an awesome plan. I give him full creative license -- he could even kill me, I told him -- and hopefully he'll start soon. Don't worry, I am not leaving you, I just need to get things in order. I don't know when exactly the break will start, but when it does, I'll be leaving you in excellent hands. The Boyfriend has a Jack-Kirby-influenced old school comic book style that I think is brilliant and marvelous. With luck, we'll all have a good time.

I'll post more later with photos of the projects I've been taking on, but in the meantime, enjoy your comic.