Amateur Photographer Discovers New Type of Zebra Mussel

(From "The Riverdale Shopper-Democrat", June 1, 2007)

Local teen and self-described "sex magnet" Archibald Andrews has provided the Riverdale Zoological Society with photographic proof of a new strain of zebra mussel. Dubbed Dreissena Veronica, the bivalve can be found in large bodies of water, mostly aboard yachts. Unlike its famous cousins, the Dreissena Veronica mussel has a vaguely humanoid appearance and is capable of walking on land, flirting, scheming, and making catty remarks. As of press time, only one specimen of this new mussel has been spotted. However, some scientists advise citizens to be vigilant. According to Dr. Dilton Doily, a Ph.D. and Hall Monitor, should the Veronica mussel go unchecked, "the town's banks could be sucked dry!"

A Little Less Conversation, A Little More Babbling

Clicker is so overcome by Millie's loveliness that he's reduced to Caveman Language, or possibly German. And I'm pretty sure he was wearing a bow tie but his spasming Adam's apple popped the darn thing right off! (The Adam's apple: the boner on your throat!)

But really, who could blame him? Millie strolled into the office dressed in a giant sausage casing! Sure, it pinches at the shoulders and forces every limb to splay outwards at bizarre angle and you end up walking so oddly that every bystander is certain you got lost on your way to Lourdes but hoo-boy does it ever show off your curves! The tricky part? Getting your local hotdog plant to consent to letting you climb onto the assembly line.

She Got Tired of People Asking, "Who Are You Wearing?"

At least, I assume she's the one who scribbled all that crap on the front of her own desk. Of course, the people I feel sorry for are Donna Elam and Marlene Baron. Because I'm pretty sure they intended for their designs to be worn by Millie, her rival Chili or (less likely) Millie's less glamorous friend and doglike one-woman support team Toni, and not some stuck-up scam artist who appears in only one story. Of course, I have other questions... like, how does the rest of Donna's outfit look? Is it just a blouse? Or does it connect to a skirt, or culottes or maybe some huge flared trousers? Or the bottom half of a pantomime horse costume? Or is the model agency lady connected below the waist to some kind of blocky machinery, like Captain Pike or Korvac the Machine God? (Certainly, I could relate.)

Also of interest: Millie's handbag by Hefty! (What's she got in that thing? A severed head? Or the model agency lady's lower half?)

I Hate Theme Weddings

"Jesus!" Chad thought. "My only reason for even suggesting a Tarzan-themed wedding was to get Jennifer to finally take her top off... but then she had to turn into a complete chickenshit at the last minute. Like always. Where'd she get that white tarp, anyway? You can't even see her knees! God only knows what she brought for our honeymoon tonight. Probably a jogging suit. Balls. Meanwhile, I'm left standing here like a jerkoff with a synthetic loincloth on. Damn thing itches like crazy. And I think the trained chimp we hired to be a flowergirl peed on it. Like, a minute ago.

Hell, I bet the only person more ticked about how they're dressed for this wedding is Jennifer's maid of honor, LeVonna."

Update: I'm now 99.99% sure I'll be able to post with laxative-like regularity for the rest of this week. Just don't expect any new artwork until early next week. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go supervise Tusker's gold tooth implantation procedure. (I've been trying to talk him into replacing one of his hands with a hook or perhaps a giant corkscrew, but he just won't go for it.)

Avast, I've Run Aground!

Happy Memorial Day! This is the day we Amadusians honor those brave soldiers who fought and died for our freedom against the Tyrants of Masculon, over five hundred Earth-years ago. Just imagine... two hoards of brawny, hairy, bearded, half-naked and well-oiled men grappling with each other in a surging, seething mass!

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...Sorry, my mind kind of wandered there for a sex.. er, I mean, "sec." Aannnyway, the men of Amadus managed to kill every macho male of Masculon, profoundly changing their planet's culture for all time! The world is known nowadays as "Femnaz."

Sadly, as Rainbow Girl steered my ship, the HMS Exquisite, to the cemetery satellite of Shanghalla, we ran afoul o' a solar squall the likes o' which I never seen in all me days a-sailin' the cosmic seas! Th' demon gust pitched ol' Brigadier Blockade an' his noble vessel ass o'er tea kettle ag'in the rocky shoals o' an asteroid belt! All o' me drawin' supplies were-- BLAZES! *click* GODDAMN this pirate voicebox module! A Titanian biker karate-chopped my windpipe in a tavern brawl (it's like he knew all my moves before I could even make them!) and ever since, the darn thing's been acting all haywire. As I was trying to say before... in the crash, my art supplies went "overboard" through a damaged airlock and are even now floating somewhere in the inky void. Also, com systems are malfunctioning, so posting (and commenting to your comments, MaGnUs) this week might be a little spotty. I'll do what I can.

Fun fact: Yesterday (in your time period) my old roommate/only source of financial aid, Jeremy Rizza, finally moved into his new townhome! Amusingly, the first-time homeowner wouldn't have his internet hooked up until the following Thursday! Isn't that a scream?

And now, the historic Amadus/Masculon battle, as pre-enacted by Archie Andrews and Jughead Jones.

(Handsome Archie is playing Amadus, of course.)