Twitter on October 27th vs. Twitter now.

Enjoying every conceivable form of low-brow comedy but being lukewarm on fart jokes is among my most troubling mental health afflictions.

Wherein Cord feels less than. #Comics

No matter how far ahead I get with work, I feel like I'm perpetually behind schedule.

Currently working under the assumption that I'm trapped in an Aesop fable and/or Greek myth.

Me attempting to function with my various mental illnesses firing on all cylinders.

It's a shame Scooby-Dum never became a permanent fixture in the Scoody-Doo universe (Dooniverse?). I mean, has there ever been a better foil for Scooby-Doo's raw intellectualism?

My latest comic! Wherein Jenkins can't catch a break. #Comics

Depressive episode? More like “depressive series with an exorbitant number of seasons.”

Wherein Cord asks the tough questions. #Comics

Although it's never explicitly stated, I'm reasonably certain that RPG Real Estate is set in the present-day United States.

I drew this in response to Elon Musk declaring that "comedy is now legal on Twitter," which I believe happened roughly eight million years ago.

My shy, withdrawn nature is at odds with my brain never shutting the fuck up.

As a lifelong skeptic, I refuse to believe in the existence of the supernatural unless presented with ironclad evidence*.

* seeing the text "INSPIRED BY TRUE EVENTS" on the poster for a horror movie

I’ll occasionally wear a pair of extremely uncomfortable eyeglasses so that I can better appreciate my only comfortable pair of eyeglasses.

Anyway, I’ve pretty much mastered this whole “create your own happiness” thing.

When I was eight, I genuinely believed that the Ren & Stimpy episode in which Ren unzips his fly and proceeds to urinate on a board game would be the most shocking piece of media I would ever see.

From 2020. Wherein Sock learns that it's okay to not be okay. #Comics

From exactly two years ago. Wherein Cord and the gang prepare for Thanksgiving amid a pandemic.

Took a break to sneeze several times and blow my nose while writing a joke about my perpetually inflamed allergies, lest my authenticity ever be called into question.

Workdays are a constant struggle between needing to use the bathroom and not wanting to break productivity streaks.

The prospect of returning an item to a store frightens me more than any horror movie or haunted house ever could.