The universe throws us some obvious little pitches sometimes, and we need to be awake enough not to let them slip by.

I paint digitally now. A pity, in some ways, as the biggest price one pays is that you no longer have a finished piece of physical art to hang on a wall. I miss that terribly.

I hate smoothies. Because they won't offer Firestone IPA beer as an ingredient.

I'll confess right here that I secretly wish I'd have drawn a strip about a little boy with a fake tiger, going for adventures throughout the universe in spaceships of his imagination.

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.

If nothing is serious anymore, then there's nothing to satirize.

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