Photo by W. M. Rutherford.

I’ve been doing this comic for nearly six years now; and I can’t for the life of me explain what the hell it’s about. Most times, I’m forced to mime some terrible body illness while growling like a silly mongoloid does at his own reflection. Frankly, it isn’t pretty. I’m no good with pictures, that’s Amber’s job. It takes a bizarreĀ and other-dimenional mindset to draw these nonsensical comics, and I for one am glad not to have a part in it. My hands are clean, I just write it. I also maintain somewhat of a presence on my own website:
I Hate Your Birthday.com