This comic is continued on my site - it’s just too huge to post here!

I had the amazing privilege to get some time to collaborate with Vex, a wickedly smart and wonderfully funny woman who worked as a dancer and escort in Canada from 2000 – 2008. Vex has asked that we don’t use her name or other identifying details.

Warning: This comic discusses sex work, includes some semi-nude images, and contains sexist slurs. As such it should probably be considered NSFW.

New Comic!

I actually live this ridiculously lucky life where I rarely sleep alone, I either have a cat, two cats, a person, two persons, or some combination of all of that, and when I am in an empty bed I am just so cold and also I don’t have anything to pat so I can’t sleep. 

It’s getting cool and I, lacking thermoregulation, seek warmth. This requires that my partners stay in bed forever. So far they have been uncooperative. 

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One of the ways that mental illness really fucks with you is by distorting your ability to recognize and process things appropriately. It will hook onto tiny things and dig them into you for days and days, or it will numb you over things you really should be processing. This week, my brain feels like it’s just constantly gaslighting me and it’s difficult to find the place where normal emotions and reactions stop and brain distortions begin. 








This was recorded by the Portsmouth Sinfonia in an experiment where all the members of the orchestra would swap instruments with each other and attempt to play them to the best of their ability.

favorite things about this

  • literally all the brass starts to get the hang of it and then the crescendos happen and everyone is like FUCK FUCK FUCK??? FUCK. JUST. BLOW RLY HARD.
  • the strings are lazy but also the same. like u can tell a lot of the ppl w/ the stringed instruments may already basically know how to play stringed instruments. like there’s definitely a section at the beginning where you hear a good portion going “oh yeah this is like. a smaller/bigger version of what i do.”
  • all you hear of any woodwinds is just “pffffttt??? pFFFTTTT???? PFFFFFTTTT I SAID PFFFFTTTT!!!!!” bc woodwinds are fucking HARD and you hear after like the first crescendo half of them just give up. they give up. they’re done. fuck this it tastes weird and my lips hurt.
  • that trumpet. that person is fucking TRYING man they fucking GOT this. they may not have figured out notes but they figured out LOUD and they GOT this.



i empathize with trumpet

New Comic!

One of the really frustrating thing about my mental illness is the sneak attacks. I’ll be going about my day, doing my stuff, and then it’s like someone screaming in my ear with a bullhorn, or grabbing me and shaking me, and then it’s gone. It feels like someone spliced a few frames from a horror movie into my reality; just the incredible, uncontrollable, loud shriek of anger or frustration or sadness or hopelessness cracking into my everything and then falling silent. This happens when I haven’t been taking my drugs so well, or when things are happening that fuck up my brain chemicals, and it makes me jumpy and tense. 

Yes, my doctor knows about this, we know what’s going on. It still sucks. 

New Comic!

Robots, I don’t even know. I’ve been all over the place this week, and I’ve been so frustrated and pent-up. I can actually feel myself bristle when things happen around me, I’m avoiding certain sites, I feel anxious and angry when topics come up in conversation around me, I’m twitchy in public spaces. I’m carrying this constant low-level defensiveness that’s manifesting as frustration and aggression and it’s just seeping out of me sometimes. My partner had to ask me this weekend to please be a little less mean to them and I just sort of lost it because I don’t want to be mean it’s just sort of happening to me and i hate it. 

I wish I was made of spikes and quills.