My apartment smells like pot…

Every day I get home it hits me right in the face and fills me with the warm and fuzzies. Only problem is: I haven’t had any in months. I’m suspecting it’s my neighbors, even though I don’t smell it outside. I’m not really mad about, just confused.

Any who…

Does anyone wish that Christians were a little less confident about sharing their views these days? I mean, believe what you want, but shut the fuck up with your busted-ass, fairy tale logic.

Sorry. The spirit took me there. It’s just, as someone who spent much, much of their childhood in the church, I found myself, and still find myself, quite fond of Jesus. Even if he wasn’t the son of God, he was a cool ass dude. And if he wasn’t real? Well, there are far worse heroes of myth. I mean, his heroics were subtle, somewhat attainable, and honestly just intended to be an example for all of us to follow to make the world a better place—as opposed to say, the Greek heroes who were, in most account, pieces of shit. Christians today just don’t seem to care much for Christ. I suppose it’s because to care about him would be to confront how opposed their own views are to what he preached.

Le sigh.

I set a tentative deadline to have inks for MTC finished by the end of this month. I’m pushing myself to hit it. I really want this comic done so I can focus on Un Chien and get that one done.

I’m glad to be moving forward on both, glad and grateful to have something that helps me bring meaning to my days.

Dicks for listening.