Leftover Vegetables

A guy named Alonzo Bodden, on the Jay Leno show, says pretty much what I feel about health scare stories in the news:

A couple of years ago, tomatoes were deadly. Remember that? A tomato was deadly, and the year before that it was spinach. The FDA is run by a seven-year-old kid that hates vegetables.

Tomatoes and spinach? C'mon! Everyone knows it's carrots that'll kill you. Also parsnips, turnips (anything that ends in "nip" bites), cabbage -- I call it Attack of the Winter Vegetables.

How's this for a new signature? Illegible enough?

Well, that bit in the middle does look somewhat like a W.

What have I been doing the past couple of days?

Among other things, like doing extra assignments I recklessly volunteered for, I've been perfecting (imperfecting?) a deliberately mediocre comic strip.

No, I didn't draw it -- I can't draw. It's made by turning photos into faux sketches with the "edge" effect in MS Photo Editor. I know . . .

(If you can't read the text, click on the strip for a larger image.)

Technique

Wanted to share my highly detailed notes that eventually became this article.
Below is an exact transcription of the original scrawl:

• last time . . .
• still . . .
  
• petcetera guy questions
• what it looks like, etc.
• FAQ: #1
• Then, after several days . . .
  
• But . . .
  

Where would I be without my notes?

The name says it all

Circa my childhood, when hats were still mandatory in places: The wastebasket hat.

From Dover (picture, not hat).

Late-night conversation

Above: Sound of helicopter.
"I thought the black helicopters were supposed to be silent."
"Well, they're getting old now, so . . . "

Attempt to monetize forty minutes waiting in a stalled car

. . . taking generic pictures to sell for a dollar each to go with my (paying) blog posts:

"Hey, guy, I wanted a picture of the trees in the park, not your car! . . . Never mind. What I ended up with is a picture of neither."










Here's another one from the same occasion. Rearview mirrors can be so revealing:

. . . or not.