I have been up to my cooch in revisions for the past few weeks. (I wrote that line about cooches, and then I was going to make a joke like, "get ready for these poems to go down on you until their jaws get tired," when I realized that that was backwards, and the joke should really go, "get ready for your brain to go down on these poems until they give you the head-tap," but that all seemed pretty circuigratuitous, so I made it parenthetical.) Which reminds me, to my great chagrin, that I don't really write poems about cooches at all any more. I used to write about them pretty constantly, in an O WHOA THEY ARE LIVING SHEATHS FOR LIVING SWORDS kind of way, but I guess I outgrew that at some point--or did I.
Anyway, that explains the scandalous scarcity of cartoons around here lately. Maybe if anyone would ever submit anything, the burden would not fall so heavily on my mule shoulders. Also, I have been readying myself for my fast-approaching birthday, because ladies and gentlemen, I turn 25 on Friday. 25! I have such a tiny toe in the grave.