Banal Hemorrhage

Dear readers, what makes one a failure at domestic life? I will tell you the formula that concocted me. Privilege + Unconditional Love. Back in Venezuela, I had a live-in maid. Many of us did. Her name was Aurora and she was, for all terms and purposes, family. I never realized the extent of my privileged existence until we left the country (admittedly with many of the fruits of my privilege).  I’ve been in the United States since 2003 and I could have learned to become a creature of domestic habit. But I haven’t yet. My mom has been a source of unconditional love for me and my brother. She prioritized academics for us and she was lenient on our domestic duties. Through her, I learned to unconditionally love others, but alas, not how to mop the toilets or however that is done.  I think she went the right route. I am learning domestic habits now, but would I be able to learn unconditional love had I been bereft of it? Now the challenge I’ve been working on: Unconditional Self-Lo

People moving in together is a wonder. I consider it one of the biggest challenges of my life. So many different habits coming together into one shared space. After the initial conflict, there can be some great times together, specially when it involves cats.  My wife and I spent so many years on our own before sharing a space. We both thought we were self-talking and cat-talking weirdos, but we realized shortly that we were matching weirdos. The challenge really came to be the domestic stuff like putting sponges were they belong and ontological discussions about bath mats. My dear readers, it is still a journey. It has been less than a year since we've moved in. I’m getting better! Just last week I got a gold star on my report card! The cat in the last panel is Twinkle and she is 22 years old. Never ceases to amaze me that she lived through Y2K! Extra panel 1: Extra Panel 2: Extra Panel 3:

When realizing that I was nearing 100 comics, I thought about doing something special. I wanted to aggrandize the situation and leave a gift for my present and future supporters. Paralysis ensued. We are prisoners of our own expectations sometimes, are we not? Fear of success is a true thing, as ridiculous and pompous as that sounds. We all know successful people who are prisoners to their own success, somehow less happy and less themselves as they were when seeking that success. We’ve all heard of the depression and loss many astronauts feel after their missions. How do you one-up those experiences? I am not here to tell you not to be ambitious, this world would be a sad place without it. I feel the problem is that some people see the world as a ladder instead of a spiral. If you climb to a rung you do not enjoy, going down seems like reversing. It’s not. It’s progressing. What IS dangerous to your health is advancing without happiness or joy just for fear of going back. The wor

It may come to a surprise to you, my dear readers, that this infantile web comic author is an introvert. Like 99% of the people creating stuff on the Internet. Isn’t it weird how accepted introversion is these days? As a young man, no one talked about introverts and people most definitely didn’t self identify as introverts often. But here we are. Almost every web comic has tinges of social ineptitude, desire for isolation and comfort in blankets. Could it be that creating pictures for people attracts a particular personality type? Or is it that we are all introverted at some point, especially when perusing the world wide web? Alas, we may never know. Fact of the matter is, I am an introvert inside and outside the web. And not the sexy type either. I’m the type that can isolate for long periods of time and become unkempt and bereft of the social graces. Some times I can braid my ear hairs and have nails to rival my cats. I am very lucky to know amazing people that understand me

Perhaps this will surprise you, gentle readers, but the creator of this sophomoric webcomic is not particularly adept at domestic duties. It is with that in mind that I share with you my laundry process, so others may learn from it. It is not a practical method, but it does end up with clean laundry at the end. In the frames you can find Khaleesi, the brown, young cat. She is cute, dynamic, and the devil's armpit sometimes. She is the one that eats all my cables. I don't want to hear what you've tried... I tried vinegar water, lemon water and other internet-provided ideas. The only thing that works is reverting to an amish lifestyle with no cables. We are fine now, and getting good with the churning of the butter and stuff. The white haired cat is Eris, and she is wonderful, adorable and hairy AF. She definitely was abused as a child, because she is ambivalent about being petted. She likes it, but she hates it and moves away from you at the same time. Twinkle