Happy Birthday to me.
July 7, 2010
Alright, let’s get this over with. I’m 26 now.
You know, everybody always accuses me of being self-deprecating. I don’t think I am. I just draw myself the way that I feel. I’m not just making this stuff up.
Here’s a couple of links!
You know what would be an AWESOME birthday gift? If Eric Reynolds would decide that he will publish the comic I drew for MOME! Come on Eric! It’s my Birthday, man!
Here’s a comic that has no home:
Happy birthday man!
Happy Birthday, Noah. Now you can dread turning 30 like the rest of us in our late 20′s.
I hate (and am completely terrified) of ghosts too. I think I watched too much Unsolved Mysteries when I was a kid.
Happy Birthday, Son!
I wrote you a long, loving letter, full of wisdom and general, all-purpose dadliness, and I sent it to your Noahism address, but it bounced. I guess your email account was disconnected for failure to pay your bill, right? So, you’ll never know all the wonderful things I had to say about you and to you, until I’m dead, and a search of my archives uncovers the long-lost letter. Briefly summing up, however, I love you & think highly of you. I happen to like ghosts and have a healthy ongoing relationship with most, except for that Ghost of Christmas Past. He’s a real pain. Usually, they just want to talk and be acknowledged. And be worshipped. And sacrificed to. You’re in your 27th year! Almost time to fold up the proverbial tent. Be well.
Dad
Not that I don’t believe in ghosts, BUT: I’ve totally seen plates and cups move across counters and stuff when they’re hot. It’s like condensation builds up underneath it and an air bubble gets in there or something…
Oh! I never thought of that!