I guess I was only mostly dead. Far be it from me to complain about having the best job in the world, but sometimes the constant travel and convention weirdness does start to take its toll. Angela and I were in a pretty sad state last weekend at Emerald City Comicon, what with each of us having a cold, a cough, a soar throat and various headachings. She had some sweet Canadian cold meds that kept my corpse mostly ambulatory all weekend. I asked a guy at a Seattle pharmacy if we had them in the US and he got real wide eyed and backed away, all the while speaking in hushed, panicked tones into his sleeve. Seattle is a weird place.

COMMENTERS: Have you ever had a job that was pretty great except for one shady, questionable, morally grey, disgusting or totally illegal aspect? What about a great job that was ruined by one not-great person?

With A Little Help From My Friends

Alternate Title: Weekend At Joely’s 

In reality, it was David who should have died last weekend, because Angela and I spent nearly every night coughing on him in stereo. We had grown up beds and David was on the air mattress between us just being blanketed by our expelled phlegmy horribleness. His immune system must have been fortified against attack by the constant regimen of Taco Bell and boxed macaroni he crams into his crambox. His body is so used to being force fed disgusting poison bullshit, that a few germs and viri must seem like a packet of mild sauce.

I never been as sick during a convention as I was during Emerald City Comicon last weekend. I lost my voice immediately and spent the entire weekend trying to interact with fans and fellow cartoonists alike in garbled, mangled cough-whispers and hack-spasmed Tuvan throat singing. I almost broke down during dinner one night when the frustration of noting being able to be heard or understood, constantly having to repeat myself and more often that not just NOT saying anything when I had something to say started to get to me. I hadn’t really thought about how much of my identity was hinged on my voice. Take away my ability to command a room with my voice, tell stories, make jokes, sing, etc. and there isn’t much of ME left. It was pretty depressing, but my friends certainly helped me make the best of it.

COMMENTERS: Have you (or anyone close to you) ever lost an ability and had to relearn it, or otherwise compensate for it? When I was a kid I broke my right thumb and had to learn how to eat with my left hand. Doesn’t sound like that big of a deal, but it took a lot of practice and I can still use silverware ambidextrously.

Franky Say Relax

Horribly sad, long story short: The Blind Ferret Server got SUPER hacked and all their sites went down, including my store. Most are still down. Every day the store is down I get closer to not having enough money to pay my bills this month. Therefor I have created a temporary PRINT SHOP when you can get my BRAND NEW “TESLA UNCOILED” print as well any many of my most popular large prints.


You can also still get all kids of fancy fine shirts from Sharksplode.

What do Canadian scientists know about who’s happy and who’s a miserable skin sack full of rage-knots and tar-like hateblood? They’re probably all high on free government weed and socialist Obamacare. Subsequently, I don’t know anything about Canada.


I’ve stopped using Feedburner since Google has abandoned it. The old feedburner feed will continue to work, but you should resubscribe using http://hijinksensue.com/feed/.

If you used to get HE in your email inbox through Feedburner, this service seems to offer the same functionality for free.

Just plugin the HE RSS feed [http://hijinksensue.com/feed/] and your email address.

I did a two part interview with the United We Geek podcast. You can listen to part 1 right here and part 2 over here. We talk a lot about the origins of the comic, The Experiment, what a “creative community” really is and then I go off on Star Wars for like half an hour. It’s good fun.

Robotripping At The Gates Of Hell

UPDATE: New Lo-FiJinks Comic! 

Episode 88 – Wizardo And The Hot Dog Guy

As I mentioned earlier on Twitter, I can tell if I’m more sick today or just more annoyed about being the same amount of sick as I was yesterday. The result is the same. I make a lot of “UNNGH…” sounds and generally feel like fuck on toast. Two days ago I couldn’t decide if this was an actual legitimate illness or just an allergy attack. I decided to hedge my bets and take some allergy meds and chase them with some cold meds and toss in a little headache pill action just to balance things out. I will give you exactly zero guesses as to how bad of an idea that was. I’m being so stingy with the number of guesses because they aren’t required because I will come right out and tell you THAT IT WAS AN AWFUL IDEA.

Zyrtec and Sudaphed (the good “you have to give your driver’s license to get it” kind) are not pleasant bedfellows. I spent the next 8 hours or so just sort of floating 4 feet beneath my giant balloon head. Every time I would turn to look at something, I would have to wait for my eyes to actually turn the same direction as my face which was usually about a 10 – WAY MORE THAN 10 second delay. The most accurate analogy I can muster for the haze my brain dwelled in that day is this: my mind felt like my eyes do when I’m not wearing my glasses. It still worked and it still knew what was going on, but it was slow to focus and had a hard time pointing in one direction for very long.

COMMENTERS: Last time we shared our worst “here’s what I did while I was WAY too sick to do it” stories. How about your worst “I took some medicine to feel better and THINGS GOT MUCH WORSE!” stories? Drug interactions, poor attempts to self medicate, etc.

One time I had a sore throat and ate an entire bag of cough drops (the “every cough drop has 100% of your daily vitamin C” kind) in about 8 hours. In doing so I overdosed on one of the ingredients in said cough drops (possibly the vitamin C) and my entire body turned into one big swollen rash. It was FUCKING terrifying. I went to hospital and got a steroid shot at least a day AFTER I should have.

Another time an ER doc that wasn’t paying any attention to me at all just shot me up with some random painkiller without telling me what he was doing. Turns out I am allergic to it and I FREAKED THE MISERABLE FUCK OUT. I immediately had a panic attack (something I am not used to at all) and started to feel like I was in horrible danger if I stayed there. I couldn’t sit still or stand still and my every thought was focused on fleeing the hospital. I called my wife who was in the waiting room and she later said I sounded completely manic. I told several doctors over the course of the next couple of hours that something was wrong and I felt like I was losing my mind. They all dismissed me and went about their business. Finally a different doctor comes over and looks at what I was given (wish I knew exactly what drug it was) and says, “Oh yeah, that can happen.” Gives me some Benadryl and I instantly felt better.

Though I can’t really feel too bad considering the one story I saw on the Discovery Channel about the lady who took a standard antibiotic and all her skin fell off. ALL OF IT.

My Hands Felt Just Like Two Balloons

I’ve been sick for the last few days. This particular recurring, seasonal illness bares such a resemblance to both A) A REALLY bad allergy attack and B) actual viral illness that I never really know what I have. Luckily the treatment for both is the same. Lots of sleep, fluids, procrastination of work-related responsibilities, complaining and Seinfeld reruns. So that’s how I’ve been spending my time. Oh, and I also made you:

Episode 88 – Wizardo And The Hot Dog Guy. Listen to the ep, then check out Alex’s fancy Photoshoppery which deftly illustrate one of our bits.

To get into more about exactly how miserable I am, I would like to explain how unbearably shitty I feel. Sometimes (often in fact) my cat, Replay, will eat his dry food so fast that he almost immediately throws it up on the carpet. Never one to let a hot meal (how NOW, anyway) go to waste he usually gobbles down nearly all of the pre-eaten partially digested mess then goes about his marry way. These 12 hours naps aren’t going to take themselves, you know. I say he re-eats NEARLY all of the food, because he usually leaves somewhere between 10 and 15 nuggets of food to resolidify on the floor and become one with the carpet’s collective hive mind. I feel like THAT food. I feel like I have been eaten, thrown up, left to stew in my own juices and a healthy portion of feline bile for a few minutes, then nibbled at and pushed around with a coarse cat tongue for a few minutes, only to be ultimately judged unworthy of a second eating and left to crack and dry on the unforgiving carpet never to fulfill my purpose. The rejection at the end it what really seals the deal in determining which is worse: The twice eaten food, or the once eaten, once vomited, eternally rejected food.

In the next comic I think I’ll get into how much of a mistake it was to take a handful of allergy meds AND cold meds at the same time, hoping they would just figure it out for themselves. Listen to the podcast linked above to hear what I sound like while trying to forge coherent thoughts under their influences. This will be a short storyline. 3 or 4 comics at most.

COMMENTERS: What’s the worst thing you ever had to do while sick? Or rather, what’s the thing that you did that you REALLY should have stayed home from due to illness?