Hello, friends!
Hope you’re enjoying your woke beers and your heathen potato toys and watching your furry kids defecate in taxpayer-funded litter boxes at school. In short, I wish you all the bounties of our lord Dark Brandon’s satanic reign. Go ahead and sacrifice/eat that extra baby this week. You deserve it.
Anyway.
So, a couple weeks back, I told you I was taking last week off for my (yikes) 45th birthday, which was true. My birthday present to myself was a little writer’s retreat, two blogless weeks to focus on something I’ve been tinkering with for…hoo. A minute.
A comic book.
And I need a little more time.
I cannot wait to share this story with you folks, but I’ve got to finish writing the little bastard first. I am tantalizingly close to a workable draft, something I can put into production, and I just need a few weeks to drag the motherfucker over the finish line.
Confidentially, I bit off, um, quite a bit more than I could chew with this one, and I’ve been sort of spitefully gnawing the thing down into something manageable for, again…a minute.
But things’re clicking right now, and I think one good, sturdy stretch free of the nagging drone of the Boeberts and Gaetzes gets me over a threshold I’ve been aiming at for, as I may have mentioned…A MINUTE.
Gonna take at least two weeks, I figure, probably no more than a month. Probably. We’ll find out. One day, I’ll just be there, on your lawn, drunk, in nothing but the mask and bathrobe. It’ll be just like old times.
Of course, I’m only able to pursue this comics thing at all because of y’all’s kind support over the years. You made this internet loudmouth’s dream come true. I’m really very grateful that you let me put on this little show for you once a week. Thank you.
If you want to see what all this What? Cap Makes Comics? hullabaloo is about, I’m told the pre-order page at CEX for the new print run of my WWII action fable, Marguerite vs. Occupation, is finally live! If you missed the Kickstarter, folks seemed reasonably happy with the book, and I’m real proud of it.
ANYWAY.
You came here for Mitch McConnell jokes, and you got excuses, oversharing, and a little advertising. What bullshit. You should ask to see a manager.
I can try to whip something up real quick. I dunno…how many Mitch McConnells does it take to roll women’s bodily autonomy rights back a century?
Just the one, unfortunately!
See? My heart’s not in it. Like, how many Mitch McConnells does it take to screw in a lightbulb? I don’t even know. Three? No punchline in sight. My head’s elsewhere. See ya soon. STAY SAFE OUT THERE!