It happened after the Kaiah storyline . . . after an extended period of writing comics with continuity, we fall into a creative black hole where ideas do not exist. At these times, if we glimpse even a sliver of an idea, we must wrestle it to the surface like a struggling bass. We can only hope that it is a least somewhat fresh. Today’s comic is one of those fish. It involves “No Shave November,” a happening that requires no additional explanation.
No, I am not participating.
Why? Because I am a shining example of the civilized man. I bathe daily, I wear clean clothing other than animal hide loin cloths, I take extreme pride in my dental hygiene, I avoid going outside due to the threat of animal attacks, and I keep my face sheared clean of all animal fur. No ridiculous hair shall ever be permitted to grow uncontrolled on my face as long as I have say in the matter. I must remain a beacon of hope for those shameless lost souls.
Also, it is totally a cover for the fact that I probably could not grow a beard if I wanted to. Let’s not dwell on that, though.
Halloween was something of an exciting and new experience this year. I did not dress up. I did not go out. I only did two things:
I carved three pumpkins, which was enjoyable as always. I tried a new technique on one where I didn’t actually cut pieces out, but instead scraped away to make areas of differing thicknesses, so it was more like sculpturing. That was kind of fun, except I rubbed off all of the peel, or skin of the pumpkin with a cheese grater and that made a huge mess. It also needed more thin areas, as it was a bit dim at night, even in total darkness. During the day, I thought it looked pretty rad.
Also, I got trick-or-treaters for the first time in pretty much my entire life. My home in Alaska is in a somewhat remote area. A big part of our property is nothing but woods. I want to say the majority, but I am not positive about that fact. Anyways, you can see one house through the trees at the house. Most of the children in the neighborhood were around my age, so there was a short “golden age” of trick-or-treating for several years, but being part of that group, we never actually received any of the trick-or-treaters.
During my first Halloween in Seattle, I was out of town, or something, for some reason, so I was unable to see what kind of ToT density there was. The second year, I lived in a creepy dark part of the neighborhood, next to a house that was falling into disrepair, and across the street from some kind of drug-addict/psychopath/rapist. Not an inviting environment, despite the cheerfully lit Jack-o-lanterns that were set out.
This year, I live in a better lit, more wholesome area of the neighborhood, so ToTs were to be expected.
The first group: wiped out candy supplies, which I found horrifying. A quick restock was needed, and groups kept pouring in. It was exciting, yet terrifying, because tiny masked human beings kept demanding treats from me in their little booming voices.
I talked briefly about age problems I had with ToTs. I think that maximum ToT age should be 13, but whatever, I guess. Personal preference. Only one group of teenage girls appeared, wearing costumes and trying to sing Christmas carols while laughing at their own hijinks. I was filled with rage, but kept it tamped down. Still, I couldn’t help but think of Curb Your Enthusiasm . . .
Also, I am participating in NaNoWriMo, which basically means I have to write about nonsense in this post, and then work on composing the worst “novel” ever written. Which I am going to work on after I finish writing this.
Which is now.
By the way.
-Nathan
1400 words tonight . . .
