On, Comets

I have often heard comets referred to as "dirty snowballs."  I naturally had to bring this to its logical conclusion. 

No Thing Undecorated

Bonus Christmas animation! 
I have no idea what astronauts do for Christmas, but I hope they have a good one. 

Merry Christmas!

Holiday Decor

And you thought being a pink poodle was bad...

Story Time

You should hear her take on A Midsummer's Night Dream. 

As it is Christmastime, it's only fitting that we have an appearance from Santa, Mrs. Claus, and their daughter Snegurochka (literally meaning "snow maiden," so that's most likely only her title).  If you haven't heard of her, then it probably means you're not Russian (nor am I.  I didn't find out about her until yesterday).  Over there, she helps her dad deliver presents. 

Happy December!

Here's the final member of the Birthstone Unicorns series, meaning that now I get a break from forgetting to post these on time.  Yay!  Joking aside, I hope everyone liked seeing these (and getting a break from my sleep-deprived insanity). 

Happy December, everyone.  Merry Christmas.  Happy holidays.  Don't freeze. 

Vampaper Snowflakes

There are... alternative ways of making paper snowflakes.  They might not be good ways, but they are ways. 


If you couldn't already tell, I was experimenting with a different picture-drawing process this time.  Bit of a pain to do, but a little variety is nice. 

Turkey to Success

 

There's such thing as too much of a good thing.  And then there's too much of a good thing when applied to dealing with too much of a good thing.  And if you're trying to figure out what on earth I just said, well, so am I. 
Anyway, moving on.  If you celebrated Thanksgiving this week, then I hope you had a good one, whether you're here on the ground, up in orbit, or somewhere in between (it can happen). 
And hopefully you will find much more productive uses for your leftovers than this guy. 

A Gumdrop Interlude

I want to start off by apologizing.  My professors decided to dump a bunch of homework on me that's due both before and right after the Thanksgiving break, and being out of the state will make it just a tad difficult to get it all done.  So I'm busy cramming.  However, I would also like to note that I've managed to put out a drawing every week for over two years, so I get some points for that, right? 

I'll try and do a make-up comic when I get a chance.  In the meantime, here's a picture of a bunny-eared tank that my brother made while we were making gumdrop turkeys last year.  Don't ask, because I don't get it either. 

Happy Thanksgiving!


___


All complaints will be redirected to the soul-eating unicorn. 

Thank you. 

Number, Please

A continuation of this.  This actually isn't too far off from the battles I've seen my own roommates engage in, although in that case they're using nerf guns, and (usually) not outright trying to murder each other.  It makes trying to navigate the kitchen safely even more of a challenge than usual.  Lots of fun. 

CAPTCHA of the Beast

A CAPTCHA ("Completely Automated Public Turing test to tell Computers and Humans Apart") is a very forced acronym of a phrase that describes precisely what it does.  Machines can't read what they say (ironic, as the tests are created by machine).  Humans, however, can, and also take notice when the words written spell out some very interesting phrases.  If something like this should happen to you, I only have one piece of advice:  step away from the computer and run for it. 

It's What's Inside That Counts

Just something to keep in mind as you're recovering from the annual sugar buzz.  Whether said recovery is needed from your own sugar buzz or from someone else's is up for debate. 

Unless we're talking to anyone who has to deal with my sister, in which case the answer is always "hers."  Then again, that's pretty much a permanent state where she's concerned.  Probably the only reason she hasn't been attacked by a vampire yet is because she either is one herself, or she's just so hyper she scares them all away. 

No, sis, you shouldn't take that as encouragement.  There are ways to fight vampires that don't involve giving everyone else a headache. 



...

...She's not listening, is she? 

Happy November!

Here is the penultimate unicorn in the Birthstone series.  Kudos to me for actually remembering to posting it on the first day of the month this time. 
I'll note that this picture is completely unrealistic.  Mountains in this hemisphere have way more snow at this time of year. 
But other than that, I don't see any problem with it. 

R.I.P.

I think Grim went a little too far this time...

After facing a near-death experience this week at the hands of a sadistic teacher, this is about all I had energy to do.  At least it's appropriate as the final Deities of Death post of the year. 

Wardrobe Swap

Having two people dress up as each other can be fun, but expect mixed results if one of the party has scales, spikes, or a half-skull face.  Especially if one of your roles is as a goddess of beauty. 

Week 3 of the annual Deities of Death fest brings us Freya and Hel/a. 
Poor Freya.  Poor Hel. 

Testing, Testing

Sometimes even the Grim Reaper has a second job. 

Fortunately, we don't have Death Incarnate living on my campus.  Instead we get a ton of creepy crows that have an uncanny habit of flocking towards already-unfortunate students.  Not ominous at all. 

Cerberus Ate My Homework

We've all had those days. 

As per tradition, the Deities of Death are back for the month of October.  There is no escape.  So we're kicking off the month with Hades, Persephone, Cerberus, Heracles, and a healthy dose of chaos. 

Happy October!

Ah, October.  The month of terror.  This month, we shall face the horrors of monsters, ghosts, small children on a sugar buzz, and vampires.  And in my case, my composition class final, which yes, is scheduled only one month into the semester.  Because musicians apparently don't suffer enough for the art already. 

Okay, okay.  Calm down... think happy thoughts... look at the pretty unicorn... 

Okay, I'm good. 

Sonata for Solo Sabre

I'm currently taking a conducting class (yet another joy of being a music major).  On the first day of class, the professor gave us an almighty lecture on the quality and balance of batons.  Having the twisted mind that I do, the first thing that came to mind where the balance of pointy handheld objects was concerned was swords, of course.  Naturally, it is now my duty to try to figure out a scenario where I'd actually have an excuse to bring a sword to class in this manner. 

It's Full of Cats

At least this follows the tradition of cats insisting on being where they're not supposed to be. 

On the other hand, anything called the "Milky Way" seems like a natural hangout for cats. 
At least, MGM thought so.

Note:  Originally, I mistakenly attributed the short to Disney, thinking it was one of the Silly Symphonies.  Whoops.  And this is why writing posts at two in the morning is a really bad idea. 

Check the Warranty

 

When the cartoon characters are aware that they're in a comic strip, we're in trouble.  Looks like we need to start paying fourth wall insurance. 

Upon Reflection...

...Unless you enjoy freaking out other people by showing them that you don't have a reflection, in which case a house of mirrors could be a lot of fun. 

Provided, of course, that said people don't also have stakes on hand.  That wouldn't be nearly as fun. 

Happy September!

Another unicorn!  Yay!  Given the birthstone and flowers, September apparently means lots of blue.  Of course, for many people it means back-to-school blues, but let's stay positive here. 

Quality Control

It should be considered common sense to not mess with buttons and switches that you don't know the function of (or even some that you do know the function of).  This goes double if it's a random, unlabeled switch, triple if you don't possess opposable thumbs, and quadruple if you're in a TV show, film, book, or offbeat comic blog, as most writers will find it a perfect opportunity to implement Murphy's Law.  Best not to risk it. 

Context Won't Help

Over the years, my parents have bugged me and my siblings to spend more time outside.  But every time we do, they start eyeing the psychiatrist section of the yellow pages.  It's very confusing. 

Nom, Nom

AKA, what happens when I make a last-ditch attempt to finish a cartoon before I pass out.  Right, then.  Passing out now. 

Let the Sunshine In

Let's see.  Far away from home?  Check.  Inhospitable environment?  Check.  Marshmallows and a fire?  Check.  Sounds like camping to me.  Even if the fire in question is a few thousand degrees hotter than the usual kind. 

Fun fact:  Marshmallows expand quite a lot in a vacuum.  But don't try to do the same thing with a human being.  It gets messy. 

Happy August!

Another month, another Birthstone Unicorn.  (Poppies!  Poppies will make them sleep...)  Maybe now that I'm on a break from school, I can get some sleep too.  Unless, of course, I'm up at dark A.M. drawing cartoons for a certain offbeat comic blog.... 

And Miles to Go Before They Sleep

Behold, the ultimate test of patience.  It's going to be a long drive to uncle Vlad's castle. 

(Prank) Call of the Wild

Yellowstone Park has its own sense of humor.  In any case, this is far less annoying than the tourists that do see the animals and try to take close-up pictures of the buffalo, oblivious to the fact that there's a line of 68 cars backed up behind them.  Every.  Single.  Time. 

Zzz-zzz

And don't I know it.  I was up in the dark A.M. last night trying to finish the final report for one of my classes.  And now I'm up in the dark A.M. trying to finish this comic.  If I don't post next week, it's because I'm still asleep. 

The Final Countdown

And for composition majors, finals are a little like the regular music majors, except you're going, "I'm supposed to have this song finished in an hour, and it still doesn't sound right!  Inspiration!  I need inspiration!"  And then the music-writing program crashes.  And then one of your performers ditches you at the last second.  And half of the remaining performers forget how to count.  And then the judges decide that they didn't like the song anyway. 
Could be worse.  I know a guy who had to take eleven quizzes on flower identification in one day for his floral arranging class, a course I didn't even know existed until today.  At least what I do gets a little respect. 

In conclusion, all majors are equally painful.  Your only hope is to find something you like enough to put up with the associated misery, and then hope that your professors don't literally try to kill you.  At best, you'll rise above it all and use your new-found knowledge to bring light to the lives of millions.  And at worse, at least your roommates can find relief in the fact that they didn't sign up for the same thing.  Either way, you'll enlighten someone.  Win-win. 


P.S.  In case anyone was wondering, the science major guy is chanting the Hubble's Law equation. 

False Advertising

Something vaguely Fourth-of-July-y.  Because vampires have to find some way to survive the summer too.  Some people actually like the heat.  And then there's people like me who want a restraining order put on the sun.  Maybe this is why people keep joking that I'm a vampire. 
Don't worry.  I'm not. 

Now a werewolf, on the other hand.... 

Happy July!

Sorry for the delay on this one.  I've been a tad distracted for the last couple of weeks.  My weird school schedule means that I get to stay home during the winter, but I also have to worry about finals in July.  The sudden heat doesn't help much, but a picture of a unicorn does. 

Lunacy

 

I've always wondered what would happen if a werewolf became an astronaut.  Just when you thought moon landings couldn't get any more interesting.... 

Ramming Speed

While it's not my main instrument, I play the clarinet in the university band.  The current director is, er, interesting.  As in he has never been able to fully grasp the concept of mortal limitations and human suffering.  He also happens to be my teacher for my composition major lessons.  Apparently it's true that artists are required to suffer. 

In any case, we have a concert next week, and everyone is a bit dubious as to how one of the songs will turn out.  It's this thing called "A Duddy Romp," which was commissioned for a high school band, performed once, and then never saw the light of day again until now.  The only copy of the score that I know of is hand-written in pencil.  So yes, it's a tad on the obscure side.  Now, if you ask a band director why that is, they probably won't know and will tell you that it's an excellent piece that should really receive more recognition.  If you ask a performer, they will tell you exactly why:  this piece is an unholy nightmare to play.  We're talking about painful fingerings, strings of 16th notes at a tempo of 300, and 3rd clarinets playing in the stratosphere range. 

The composer of this song is dead, but apparently his son is going to be flying in from Hawaii to hear us perform. 

No pressure. 



P.S.  Sorry this is late.  I had a little trouble organizing the drawing.  Excuses, excuses. 

The Song that Didn't Want to be Written

Yes, those are actual screenshots, because this really happened.  The same piece that I had to start over on because my music program spontaneously crashed before I had a chance to save it (and the only other time the program had ever crashed was actually my fault) decided to develop a rather bizarre glitch that hasn't appeared in any other file.  The fact that it sounds, in my roommate's words, like haunted mansion music doesn't help.  She thinks the song is possessed.  She may be right. 

This is the first movement to a three-movement work based on a Webern twelve-tone row, to be performed by nine people in front of a panel of jurors as my final project for my composition class.  In the middle of the semester.  Yes, you read that right.  My professor is a bit of an over-achiever, to put it nicely. 

In other news, I discovered it's possible for loud sounds to hurt your eyes if you're tired enough. 



P.S.  I get bonus points this week because I actually asked my roommate for permission to put her in a comic before posting it, unlike the last four times.  She approved.  Happiness!



Edit:  She was right.  It was cursed. 

Brain Food

It's a pity that most teachers don't accept the excuse of "vampires slurped my brains," because it would have been appropriate several times this week. 

Also, I will refrain from making any head cheese jokes.  You're welcome. 

Happy June!

Another month, another Birthstone Unicorn. 
It's June, it's sunny, and my siblings are out of school.  Meanwhile, I'm busy worrying about midterms.  Hooray for messy schedules!

Safety First

It doesn't matter who or why.  If someone winds up duct-taped to the ceiling, something has gone horribly wrong. 

Also, if your roommates start asking if the Taj Mahal is lost somewhere in your room, it may be time to do a little cleaning. 

Because I Can

It's been a long week, and I'm very tired.  Drawing a macho-idiot as a fairy princess ballerina seemed perfectly rational. 

I Sing the Body Eclectic

I'm not into medical stuff.  I'm an artist.  I signed up for an art class.  As long as everything works, I couldn't care less about how many muscles or bones I have, and especially not about what they're all called, considering I have enough trouble remembering people's names, let alone the unpronounceable eleven-foot-long name of some two-inch-long body part that most doctors probably don't ever see either.  So you can imagine my reaction when my figure drawing teacher announced that before the semester is over we will be tested on the locations and names of the bones and muscles.  Cue a flurry of muscle diagram worksheets, impromptu quizzes featuring our resident skeleton Harry, and trying desperately to remember how many ribs we have (24), and how many curves there are in the spine (4), and how the Axis vertebrae bone connects to the Atlas vertebrae bone, and keep straight the Plantaris muscle, and the Teres Major muscle, and the Sartorius, and the Abductor Magnus, and the Semitendinosaursus, and the Brachiosauradialis, and the Gracias, and the Extensor Digimon, and the Anacondaus, and the Rhombusomthingorother Major, and the Intospaceatus, and the Diplodocus, and the Circa Necronomico͜n, and the Iseepŗe͘ttycolorus, and the Roomi̷ss̛pinning and the Darkne̕sşisclosingin҉ and the Nohop̶ènohopeatall and the Theyrecomin̴g̴totakemeaw̧a͢y and Itsallac̛onspirac̢y͝ and Cantthinkstraight and Theȩn̛disnear and Wea͠réhurtlingalongatad̢anģero͞usspeed and Alastosleeptodream and H̢e͞lp͡idontknowwh̛atsgoingon and Iamdea̷t̢h͡thed̵e͢s̶t͘ro̵ye͠rofworlds and Thereareunspeakableh̶or̛ror̸s̡helpmetheeaglesarecomingandrednothingmakesse̕ńse҉andtheresaponyintheceilingandorangetheresal҉i͢g͡htandimscaredwearedustinthewindandismellco̕l̕o҉randthequickbrownfoxjumpsoverthelazydogandyellowallislostallisl̸̴̕ǫ̧s҉t͜͜thestreetsarecurlingthecannedchihuahuasbringumbrellasforrȩv̸̕e̷̴̛n͘gę͠greennothingmakessenseh̡e̴̶̛lp̀̀͠mepleasecyancaribouinthewastebasketitstoolatemakeitstopmakeitpineapplebluestopgluestickitscomingtheyrecomingḱ̕͡a͢r̢̀kad̴͘a̵͡n͘n̛prettyprettykarkadannt̵urni͢t͢offt̛ùrnit҉o͝f́fpurp͏le͘tu̧r̡n̛itoff͝t̴̢͠h̀̀e̴͞y̛c̵͢om̡͡e̶̕ț̭͇͔̖͡h̢͚͎̳͈̘̠̳͘͘é͚̠̜̹̫y̧̘̺̲͈̣ç̦͚̭̭̤̺͔͙̀͜o̡͇̘͍m̝̜̗̠̖̩̩̕ę̫̪͖̞̖̫͉̟b̗̫̬̤̥̞̭̂̈́̈̓̐͌̊̉̚ľ̡̹͇̺̪̙̳̮̳̗̓̾́̉́̒̉͜á̡̳̞̼̙͇̝̥̣̇͂͌̈̐͢͢c͙̞̼̞̫͙̼̯̃̋k͑̿t̨̺̩̲̙͇͙͓̙͕̝̅̇̔͒͊̑ͯ͑̏͗ͭ̑ͭͩ͂̇̃ͮ́͟h̷̻̤͍̦̩̲͕̮̦̟͉̤͇͆̌̾̅ͧ̈̅̍ͮ͆͌̚͜͡͡ęͪ͌͂̍̃ͫ̑ͫͨ̄͆͏̶̮͉̠̝͎͙́͞y̡͔̗̼̩̰̝̞͐̋̈͗ͯ̅ͬ͂̃ͦ̈́̾ͯ͟c̎̎͐ͭ́̌̓̔ͭ̍̓̆̂ͦ̃ͭ̚͝͏̰̜͔̰̝͚͚͙͕̟͚̤ớ͚̮̫͕̤̲̙̼͙͕̖̣͍̝ͤͥ̎͟ͅm̶̳̤̜̬̦̱ͩ͂̔ͯ̿̈͗̔ͥ͗̂ͨ̋̈́ͧͣ̅́̚ͅe̙͚͍̮̯͉̣̝͓̫͉̙̾̇̇ͮ̂̅͊ͯ̿̅ͥ̄ͯ̿ͪ͟ͅͅ


*gasp*

*sigh*

*straightens glasses*



...Why are you all looking at me like that?


P.S.  I had some people asking, so just to clarify:  that diagram is of the muscles on the back of a human head and shoulders.  The Sternocleidomastoid is a muscle on the side of the neck. 

Fierce Bad Rabbits

Let's be honest.  The Zombie Apocalypse concept has been done to death.  Practically every possible angle has been explored approximately 4.8 times over.  The horse has been beaten to glue.  Millions of people have meticulously prepared themselves for a disaster that is pretty much an impossibility. 

Meanwhile, the far more deadly and plausible threat of rock bunnies has never been discussed by the public. 

Don't wait until it's too late, people.  Start taking precautions against the Rock Bunny Apocalypse today. 



(And let's face it.  If there actually were a Zombie Apocalypse, I'd be more scared of the squirrel zombies than the regular kind.  Those things are vicious.)

Don't Do Blood

The first rule of medicine is to do the patient no harm. 
But I'm pretty sure that doesn't apply here. 

Now, who wants to see a vampire defibrillated?


P.S.  I recently discovered that you can buy replica blood units filled with candy cherry syrup for the purpose of freaking people out.  I learned this from my new roommate. 
I'm still trying to decide if I should be amused or frightened. 

Happy May!

It's May 1st, so here's another Birthstone Unicorn picture.  Of course, the fact that it's May doesn't stop the threat of snow clouds and windstorms where I live.  But at least we have some flowers and green grass now, so things are pretty good. 

I just jinxed it, didn't I?

Many Strengths

Okay, so not exactly a straight-out funny picture, but I've had kind of a stressful week (first week back to school.  Yay!) and I felt like doing something different, so that's what happened.  Besides, it's my blog, so I get to make up the rules, right? 

So in the last week alone, I have faced psychotic roommates, an oversized mass of overpriced textbooks, scheduling woes, and an insidious plot to prevent me from graduating.  Fortunately, the people at the advising center are actually human and rescued me from sudden-death overtime.  So I'm drawing comics and I'm still alive. 

For the moment, anyway.  Keep your fingers crossed. 

Textbook Reservation

This, of course, is exaggerated for comedic effect. Phil would’ve only had to wait, oh, three-to-five days for rescue.  Because no sane student would actually reserve textbooks without bothering to pick them up.  I know I would have a conniption if I paid for overly-expensive books that I never actually got my hands on.  So they would dig him out.  Eventually. 

All joking aside, from what I’ve seen of the storeroom the stacks of textbook boxes only come up to about waist high, so you can see over the piles easily enough. But my university is on the small side. Now, if there were a similar percentage of students reserving books at a large school, then there might be a problem. 

But hopefully this isn't the case, as students and workers alike have other things to worry about, like towing around boxes containing 300-pound's worth of books. 
Yes, I speak from experience. 

New Roommates

My bet is that this is going to at best make a good sitcom, and at worst end up resembling something out of Spy vs. Spy.  Either way, I pity those in the crossfire. 
I'm heading back to school in another week, which means having to deal with a new batch of roommates.  Fortunately, I've never run into roommates outright trying to kill each other.  That would be against the honor code. 
Though maybe I should brush up on my martial arts.  Just to be on the safe side. 

Happy April!

I nearly (but fortunately not completely) forgot to put up this month's Birthstone Unicorns picture, but it's here now.  Happiness!
So happy April, and good luck if your "little April showers" are anything like where I live (i.e. hailstorms). 

Milking It

Or:  "Why My Brother Will Not Be a Farmer When He Grows Up."

My family keeps goats, which recently had a total of six babies.  Half of which still can't figure out how to get milk from the source.  Cue myself and my siblings, who on a daily basis brave a macho-idiotic billy, three irritable nannies, and a swarm of baby goats who think eating you alive is an act of love, all to get the job done. 
It may have had a slightly adverse effect on our sanity. 

It's a good thing those babies are cute.