Lookit me, usin’ this story to explain Joyce’s somewhat erratic behavior towards sexual information in Roomies!. Like a ninja.
Man, Anti-Joyce gets dressed quick. I mean, I understand she has less to put on, but…
In Joyce’s moment of mental breakdown-slash-denial of sexual self, she goes to feed the pet she named after the guy she loved but can’t remember. Even in her attempt to escape to something else, to bury the confrontation, she can’t really. […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
For the sake of keeping down Anti-Joyce’s sexual assault count for the night, let’s assume Mike’s “no” was just him being a dick, as per usual.
His eyes are up there, Sal.
This is where it starts getting super real for me. In case you haven’t been following along too closely all these years, let me tell you that I was, like, supernaturally repressed. The shame I had for my own sexual […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
I was most definitely misusing the term “bipolar disorder” here for Joyce in this situation, though I think an undercurrent of its actual symptoms (or something else with some similar symptoms like borderline personality disorder) runs through a lot of my […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
That’s right, here the “real” Joyce is, back on the island. She got sucked out of the Steel Duck through the hull breach, and you can see her little boots poking out of the borders of panel three here.
I don’t know why, but I really feel like that truck should be driving left instead of driving right in that first panel? I mean, there are all sorts of rules about that kind of stuff, like left-to-right means progress and right-to-left […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
Here I was in 2001, still quoting Michael Bay’s Armageddon three years after its release. I wonder if that guy ever did anything later. (Melonpool!)
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