Comics are back!

After weeks and weeks of me forgetting to post comics keeping you at the edge of your seat, Comic Tuesdays have returned! Here’s the comic that heralds their triumphant new beginning:

This is why I buy lots of hair elastics. And snake venom antidote.

Yes, this happened one day. Literally. There were snakes. I should probably have told someone about this, but honestly, I was just happy to escape while not being turned to stone. The Toronto transit system is just rife with character(s).

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Wednesday comic!

Like a Tuesday comic, only Wednesdayer.

My sister was only 6 at the time.

So I told you I would post part 1 later. This is part one! This is why little girls should avoid asking big sisters (with little to no censor buttons) why boys are boys and girls are girls. Little girls should ask mommies who have experience with this question. Actually, come to think of it, my mom was similarly blunt with me. Maybe not so anatomically specific, but certainly blunt… that probably explains a lot.

FINALLY

I got my computer back. I left it at my parents’ house when I left after Christmas and that was two whole days ago. Which means I a) just finished hyperventilating, b) desperately need to answer about an hour’s worth of emails, c) obviously am procrastinating on that and d) am late for Tuesday Comic once again.

My sister thinks I’m gross. She’s right.

This was drawn back in the days of Biology at U of T, which were soon thwarted by OrgChem as a prereq to every other upper year class ever. I had intended to become a medical illustrator and discovered that many illustrators with Bio backgrounds were chosen over those with Fine Arts degrees. Then I failed Chemistry and went back to English, the end. (Also, yes, it does say “pt. 2” and I will issue pt. 1 soon. BECAUSE I CAN.)

For my archery friends

Today’s Comic Tuesday is dedicated to the weirdos that like to stick their shafts in enormous butts from 18 metres away.

That’s right, my archery club.

Also I can't draw noses.

 
This is dedicated to everyone in the club who’s achieved the impressive feat of shooting one arrow into the end of another – whether you meant to or not – and has had to go all the way out to Waterloo to get two new ones. Because that’s basically what you end up with, after the adrenaline’s worn off.

Wednesday is the new Tuesday

So because yesterday was supposed to be comic day, but I was busy writing a 12-page paper for Irish class, I had to postpone the posting till today and declare today officially Tuesday instead. So set your calendars accordingly.

I don’t understand this. If your phone rings while you’re in the bathroom, occupado shall we say, WHY on earth would you answer it?? (As a sidenote – my mum calls this “multitasking.” Hang up if she tells you she’s multitasking.)

Whenever I hear a phone ring in a public bathroom, and the person actually picks up, I always flush immediately. Because you are being weird and making me uncomfortable, and toilet-flushing is a risk you knew you were taking when you picked up that phone. DEAL WITH IT.

Ohmagah

I remembered Tuesday again. This is getting to be a thing.

Who wears short pants?

It’s interesting… okay not THAT interesting but interesting enough… that I am a short person, and thus most pants are too long for my stumpy li’l legs, and yet I occasionally find that a certain pair of pants, when matched with a certain pair of shoes, will result in the above depicted scenario. Somehow, I sometimes end up with flood pants. Why, how, who knows? My pants do not adhere to the laws of physics.

It’s Tuuuuesdaaaay!!

And I remembered! Comic time, comic time, yaaaay!!

Seriously I am the worst

When my siblings and I were little, our dad (the Chinese parent) said a few key phrases to us in Cantonese. As a result, I can only speak very little Cantonese, and most of China speaks Mandarin. I can only count to 99, because I forget the word for 100. I can say ‘mushroom,’ ‘grapes,’ ‘BBQ pork,’ ‘stop kicking your little sister,’ and my two favourites in combination: ‘turn off the light’ and ‘hold my hand.’ If I were to use these phrases IN China, in a Cantonese speaking area, I would end up with 99 mushrooms, holding hands with some Chinese guy in the dark. Romantic.

And then when the silence got too awkward, I could tell him to brush his teeth.

Weekly comic

I’ve decided that Tuesdays shall henceforth be known as Weekly Comic Days. I will update my blog each Tuesday (or Wednesday morning, as it technically is right now) with a low-tech pencil-drawn comic highlighting cultural and social observations or scholarly ennui (i.e. I thought of something weird or I was bored in class).

Here’s the first:

Don't you hate it when that happens??

I can’t be the only person to whom this phenomenon occurs. I’m sure this is all one big engineering joke that only those of us who absolutely require handrails for balance on escalators who practice escalator safety can truly understand. Cruel, cruel engineers.