Bo’s Cartoon Life: or, why Wayne Pollard is now even MORE awesome

My morning routine on work days goes something like this: Get up, get sighted, get showered, get dry, get dressed, and fire up the laptop.

If I’ve done everything correctly the first time—without, say, dropping a contact into the sink* or discovering that all my clean laundry is still in the washing machine because I was writing far too late while listening to Apocalyptica far too loudly, and so didn’t hear the beeps and forgot—I’ll have time to go over the previous days’ work** and set a goal or two before I have to fetch the crowbar and pry the kids out of bed.

But the very first thing I do is check out  Wayne Pollard’s webcomic to see what Bo and his fellow novelists, poets, bloggers, screenwriters, and caffeine addicts are doing.

Drinking coffee (or tea, as long as it’s chai) is a given, and though writing is the goal, talking about writing is the clear preference. I’ve been reading Bo’s Cafe Life since the beginning, and I not only identify with these determined wannabes, I occasionally accuse Wayne of following me around for comic-fodder.***

One of the characters, Dingbang—who may be my favorite, though I’m not sure what he writes, exactly—runs a questionable answer feature,^ and Bo occasionally interviews Real Life™ people from agents to editors to publishers.

It’s funny, y’all, and simple and sarcastic and cutting and often far too insightful for comfort. I never miss it.

But yesterday, in place of the daily comic, I found something a little different:

I like it!

And I’ll bet you a virtual-venti chai latte you’ll like Bo’s Cafe Life.

*My personal best is dropping both, consecutively, and only finding the first one. The second one fell down the household wormhole and is probably stuck to a lost sock in an N-space oubliette. That’s gratitude for you.

**  You know, after checking e-mail and blog comments and  my feed-reader and . . .

** Such as deleting and rewriting the entire flippin’ section.

***An accusation he has yet to deny, I’ve noticed.

^I know what I said.  Read ’em and see.


Random Thursday: Abbreviated Awards for Random Excellence

Short post, today, as I’m coming up on that deadline.  You know the one.


Best New Catchphrase of the Week:

A few days ago, Sunny was walking around in her pink cowgirl hat and plastic Disney Cinderella heels, dragging her unicorn hobby-horse with her.

“I’m a cowgirl,” she said to my MIL.

“Really?  I don’t think cowgirls wear high heels to ride horses,” my MIL told her.

Sunny tilted back her hat, squinted up at her grandmother, and drawled,
“Some do.  Some don’t.”


Best Two-Minute Short Film Ever:

Gumball Wars from Scott Thierauf on Vimeo.

See?  Wasn’t kidding.


And the Award for the Best  Husband  Ever—Dune-Quoting Enabler Division—goes to:

I wrote until well-past midnight last night this morning—Lisa (aka First Reader of Awesomeness) is my witness, as I keep e-mailing her in the wee hours with the latest chunks of Pigeon,* and telling her I’m going to bed—and had to get up a little earlier than I’d planned to wait for the central air guy to look at our system while everyone else went off to summer camps, yoga classes, ladies’ meetings, or whatever it is they do while I’m hard at work providing the raw informational materials for a better, more literate democracy.**

I was okay with this, until I realized that the only diet Pepsi in the house was the half  bottle I’d left in the cupholder in my car. 

With dire predictions of the state I would be in when they returned, I schlepped off to my laptop to string words together. 

Two hours later, when I was trying to decide if combining the last respective bags of English Breakfast and Irish Breakfast teas would cure the pressure in my skull or start some sort of internecine warfare in the microwave, my husband returned.

With two 24-ounce six-packs of carbonated liquid gold.

“I love you,” I told them  him.

“He who controls the spice, controls the universe,” he said. “And they were on sale.”


*Yeah, I know how that sounds.

**It’s true.  I can’t help it if people use the blank sides to scribble down Farmville cheat codes.