That’s right, here the “real” Joyce is, back on the island. She got sucked out of the Steel Duck through the hull breach, and you can see her little boots poking out of the borders of panel three here.
That’s right, here the “real” Joyce is, back on the island. She got sucked out of the Steel Duck through the hull breach, and you can see her little boots poking out of the borders of panel three here.
I don’t know why, but I really feel like that truck should be driving left instead of driving right in that first panel? I mean, there are all sorts of rules about that kind of stuff, like left-to-right means progress and right-to-left […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
I am not entirely sure “what the fuck (paraphrased)” really counts as enthusiastic, informed consent.
Man, Joyce is doing those two a favor, really. If you meet a gentleman hailing from England Don’t be so impressed; hold on to your heart Just because a guy has a British accent Does not mean he’s witty or […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
Huh, is this where anatomy starts slowly dripping into my art? Is this where the life drawing classes I’d been taking started to take hold? Or is Joyce just without a shirt and she’s supposed to be somewhat alluring, and […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
My favorite part of this is that Sal’s just chillin’, eatin’ a pizza. Like, did she have it delivered? Did some poor delivery guy have to walk into the SEMME apartment complex building and buzz up for Squad 128? Did […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
Okay, fine, Joyce is me but maybe with some added weird twincest fantasy? I think you’re trying to be dirty just for the sake of being dirty, Joyce.
I had to rescan these strips (there’s apparently a small gap in my archives), and it is fantastic that they are sharing a Photoshop window with a comic I’m drawing for Slipshine. If it were ever not obvious that Joyce […] ↓ Read the rest of this entry…
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