Being 3 hours behind most of the world with which I’m acquainted makes my life a little strange, but there’s nothing I like better than waking up to this kind of insanity in my inbox. Sometimes, I don’t even it see it coming. It sneaks up on me, gliding soundlessly over my carpeted floors while it pulls a garrote wire out from its black robes. Then BAM – death by comedy.

I guess the secret is out; I’m in California for an extra week. Sorry to all you print-ordering fans, but you’re going to have to wait another 7 days to get your hands on our printed Gremlin goodness. And no, I won’t throw in an extra freebie. You magnificent greedy bastards. But we are going to extend the 2-for-the-price-of-1 until I get back, cause you have still have to wait. Just include the name of both comics in the field at the bottom of the order form.

The generosity my friends have displayed me while I slept on their couches, extra beds (and sometimes only bed) has warmed the cockles of my heart. Shit, you could grill filet on them cockles. But the fact remains that I’m a person in need of some serious personal space in order to work. I guess I need that privacy to function as a basic human being as well, so that’s an added bonus.

Thing is, I don’t travel a lot. Or, indeed at all. I’ve left Kentucky three times in the last two and a half years. So I decided to indulge myself a little bit and got a room at the Sheraton for a few days.

The good people at Connecticon have finally returned my query regarding what it takes to be considered a “special guest.” I refrained from telling him that if his website were built to be used by human-fucking-beings, I could have found that information on my own. But whatever.

Alright kiddies; that’s all for now. There is a sky outside with a particular shade of blue I’m not really used to seeing.