I don't get fan mail. It disappeared with the digital revolution.

And just as it is with all proper grannies, she ordered me into my pink bunny jammies.

Steve Dallas...a frat-boy lawyer who I knew in school. He's never written me. I suspect he was shot by an annoyed girlfriend, which has saved me many legal fees.

I could draw Bloom County with my nose and pay my cleaning lady to write it, and I'd bet I wouldn't lose 10% of my papers over the next twenty years. Such is the nature of comic-strips. Once established, their half-life is usually more than nuclear waste.

Irony can elude the genius among us, sometimes.

I was never asked to join the Editorial Cartoonists Of America. No fraternity would have me in college, either. I think they know something.

A mind is a terrible thing. All this evolution nonsense is making me feel like a complete APE!