To-day I received a big black box from David Lynch. Gee, I love saying that. Inside was a copy of Inland Empire and sixteen ounces of pure, true, David Lynch coffee. It really is great coffee--I'd buy it even if it didn't bear the David Lynch name. That it does makes it all the sweeter.
For this Thursday, I took the trolley downtown to go to a sushi place my sister had recommended. On the way, I sat across from a guy maybe five years older than me who was talking to himself in English and Spanish. I couldn't hear most of what he said, but the first thing I caught was, "Ricardo thinks he has the world brain. He does, but something's gotta hit him." After a while, I discerned that he was developing in his narrative two characters, one named George and one named Billy. It was a little while before I understood he was referring to George W. Bush and Bill Clinton. Apparently the two of them were trying to move the population of the U.S. to Africa.
Anyway, the sushi place was nice. I had the vegetarian dish, which primarily consisted of tofu cubes wrapped in rice and avocado. I also had a small bottle of nihonshu (sake), the first I've ever had, and I loved it. Hot and sweet, it was like the best mug of hot cocoa I've ever had, with an appreciable alcohol quotient. It's a shame it was such a hot day out to-day.
Yesterday, I noticed Boschen and Nesuko received about two hundred extra hits, thanks, apparently, to rmg plugging it on the Something Awful forum. I love coming across comments about my comic by people who don't think I'll be reading them. And as is often the case with such unvarnished comments about Boschen and Nesuko, my writing gets props while the artwork gets a failing grade. And, you know, I honestly find that to be a little vindicating. All my life, teachers and friends and adults in my family have told me I was a good artist and were rather unenthusiastic when I decided at some point in high school that I was more of a writer than an artist. Well, take that. It's almost enough to make me want to try writing prose fiction again.