Science Boy!

I can't do the story justice. We've all heard about the outrageous list of demands made by concert performers -- specifically the one about the bowl of M&M's with all the brown ones removed. I always thought it was somebody like Madonna, just being a pain in the ass.

There is logic to it, and it's damn impressive.

Anyway, here is the long overdue first appearance in the comic by my neighbor, Science Boy. Cheers!

Sunday Night Pick-Up.

Okay, so the lighting effects got a little wonky, but I think it suits the mood. Not much of a Happy Monday comic, but it's Sunday night and I'm killing time before I go pick up Shopgirl and Sparky at the train station. They're coming back late from Chicago. Sadly, the trip was neither business nor pleasure.

Math Always Kills Fun.

I have a few conspiracy theories about the Lotto. As I'm sure many people do. I don't know anyone who's actually won it. I've heard stories about people from my hometown who have won, but this is likely coming from the same person who told me about the Ether Bunny before I left for college. (And if you've never heard the urban legend of the Ether Bunny, I'm not gonna be the one to tell you.)

So yeah, I scan the tickets and today it said I won "$23.50 -- See Store Clerk." In all likelihood, the machine that read the ticket recognized the numbers, did a quick score on how much I've spent and with what regularity, and decided it was time to give me a false sense of hope so I'd keep coming back. You gotta spend money to make money.

But the truth is they're not my tickets. I play T-Bone's and Sparky's numbers for them while they're away. They've probably been playing this same card for decades. It's a big responsibility and I don't take it lightly. Because I'm sure as hell NOT gonna be the guy who DIDN'T play their numbers in the off chance lightning should strike.

No way do I wanna be that guy.

Gulf Fire.

Yeesh. It's such a gawd-awful mess. The oil slick is bad enough, but the damn thing's still leaking and a fire might help but not without a plume of black smoke to rival the Icelandic volcano ash in Europe.

But they're the Coast Guard and they'll do what they gotta do. In retrospect, I guess offshore drilling isn't such a hot idea after all. No pun intended.

Oaf.

A little bit lighter and little bit sloppier today. Shopgirl's catching a few Z's before she goes to give a massage tonight. Happens to be the first day since being sick all weekend that I was able to get to the store.

Ever tried to bring groceries in the house and put them away quietly while someone's sleeping? Not easy. I managed to drop pretty much everything. Yet I still don't think I woke her.

Anyway, long day. Now I'm looking forward to some "Lost" and "Justified". Big TV night for me.

Ode to the Homeless Hero

I'm sure you've heard the story, but I'm glad to hear a local businessman has put up a $10,000 reward in the search for the knife-wielding attacker. Hugo Alfredo Tale-Yax, 31 years old, gave his life to save a complete stranger. And as he lay dying, 25 people walked past him, doing nothing.

Well, almost nothing. One guy did take out his cell phone. Not to call 9-1-1, sadly. He stopped to take a picture.

Tale-Yax was an illegal immigrant and a homeless man. Two qualities that make America's collective ass twitch. But he acted heroically. The 25 passersby? No doubt they had homes, jobs, legal citizenship. And they acted with complete, heartless apathy.

They're looking for the woman who was the intended victim of the attack. She may not have known Tale-Yax was mortally wounded. Personally, I hope they also find the guy that took the picture.