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Tidings of Comfort (Part 3)

After his disgusting encounter, The Pillow makes a brief side-trip . . . where it looks like his luck might improve? Only time will tell.

I Twitter about this, I email about it, I have an ad beneath the comic, I have posted about it on this blog a couple times, but I would just like to finally mention that my other comic, done with Joel K. Dryden, is updated every Monday and Friday over at You should go check it out, if you haven’t already. I will never plug the site again after this . . . probably.

Last Friday I was not feeling well, and was sitting on the couch with my laptop. I was feeling the influence of boredom so I talked to myself for about half an hour. Actually, that is not entirely accurate, I turned on Audacity and basically recorded what was essentially an “audible news post.” I hacked away at it with the idea of saving myself having to write a post today, and instead just allow you to listen to it. In a post awhile back, I said,

I have come to the conclusion that I will never take part in a podcast, or any kind of recording medium.

Friends, I am staying true to my promise. I barely manage to force myself to post these comics to the web for you to digest and judge. Listening to my ramblings, I became incredibly uncomfortable at the thought of others listening to my words, criticizing me every time I misspoke. I am of a delicate constitution. I don’t even draw or write the comics, someone else does that while I hide under the blankets. If any kind of praise is issued, I am beckoned over, still swaddled in a thick quilt to smile weakly at the words.

After that I hide under the blanket again and wonder if the words were in fact intended to be sarcastic.

So the audio will remain half-edited on my computer where no other human will ever hear it.

I would like to share some of this content I created, but I will do it in my chosen dialect of text, where I possess nearly infinite control over each character I press.

Essentially, my voice is a source of fright and anguish. In first grade, I was terrified of the word “instrument.” I was convinced that the way I was saying it, “in-strum-ent” was incorrect, but I was not sure. I would typically try to avoid it in conversations, and was particularly frightened when it would appear in class readings.

When I was in 4th grade, we had a “buddy” system, in which we would read or do projects with students that were three years behind us, so I read to a first grader. They called me on how I would inhale my saliva back while reading, which made me incredibly self-concious.

I also discovered in 7th grade that I pronounced “cash” as “caysh.” I should probably check that on Urban Dictionary to make sure it isn’t some despicable sex act.

caysh- another way to money. “Tyrell ran out of caysh

Thank you, Urban Dictionary! Such a great place for people to make up random words as if they are “real.”

Another region that my vocal cords humiliate is in the ferocious arena of singing. I don’t sing. I cannot sing.

I supposedly was able to sing during my pre-pubescent times, when my voice was a gentle, even cherub-esque. My mother told me that I had a good singing voice, like my father (which I have no ability to confirm or deny because I don’t believe I have ever heard him seriously sing).

As I got older, my singing got worse. What helped confirm this? My mom stopped complimenting me on it, stopped comparing me to my dad, and started to say I sounded like her. The nerve!

This was devastating! I was in the school choir in 4th grade! My singing career, peaked and ended at nine!

Well . . . not necessarily true. When I was in 8th grade, a great teacher of mine was recruiting for a, quote “school play.” I had actually been in a local production in 6th grade (ahem, the lead, I might add), so I was fine with performing in front of an audience.

Little did I know, the “play” was “You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown”




MUSICAL! (Please play at least the beginning of that video below for dramatic effect, this is just a random YouTube video of the opening number).

Horror! Also, don’t think I don’t know that you didn’t watch it. Jerks.

So, not knowing this little tidbit of information, I was required to sing something in my audition.

I believe I said something to the tune of “I cannot sing.” Which was absolute truth.

I didn’t even sing in my audition, I think I sang “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” (the audition song) but in some weird showy way that may or may not have included a dance. (Somehow dancing was better?) I didn’t get the lead, naturally, but I secured a part as Linus.

The problem with this? It involved a solo in which I would sing a song while waltzing with a blanket. The name of this song?

“My Blanket and Me.” (Again, random YouTube video of the song below).

I think the notion of having to do this haunted me for quite some time, while I begged my teacher/director to cut that part out.

I did it, and I don’t know how, but it was horrifying. After the show, a group of young (4-6 year old) girls came up to me to tell me that I was “adorable” and asked me if I wanted to play “hide-and-seek.”

I politely declined.


“I just can’t stand it! I can’t stEEEEEEEEEEEEnd it.”

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