I noticed a few comments about the comics. To survive the drone of the machines (and the incessant chatter), I doodle. I’ve doodled my entire life. There are a lot of work doodles; they’re big, boxy, and have a ton of arrows. There’re a lot of notes, to-do’s, urls, diagrams, and of course, Other doodles. The Other doodles are always there, they are the loyal conscripts of my personal army. They keep me from being bored at meetings, being mad at the news, or falling asleep in an airport.

My newest conscript has no name. There have been a couple of suggestions and some interesting research done on my behalf, but I have yet to hear the right name. What is its sex, you ask? I haven’t checked; it has just hatched. Someone told me you check the sex of a bird by gently blowing up its behind. I’m not sure it could handle that kind of stress right now. What kind of bird is it, you ask? Aside from the obvious, it is a distant relative of the Peng, but the many tides of the gene pool have made it what it is today.

I digress. The office has demanded t-shirts for their naked bodies. And stickers for their hipster fixed-gear bicycles. Would anyone else be interested? It’s easier to get them all at once…