Fortune, that fickle mistress, has seemed fit to frown upon me as of late. Of course, the wheel turns: one day it grinds your face into the sodden earth while the next your grabbing towards the sky at the wheel's peak. Fortune, then, must be in park at the moment.
I've done my best to at the very least pretend I'm unphased by this turn, but, honestly, it's getting more and more difficult. It's a lonely and strenuous time to be Myles Griffin. In an attempt in avoiding being a complete sad bastard, I'm going to end that bit. I don't really care to go through everything specific at the time. I just wanted to state my weariness with everything going wrong and the fact that it would be lovely to have some positive things happen to me. You know, for a change of pace.
By chance, I ran into my friend Bryant while visiting with Nikki and little Kayla at Barnes & Noble last night. Our similarities in character have been pointed out casually every one in a while, but last night, it became very clear that we're definitely cut from the same fabric. We have great differences, but there's a core similarity there that cannot be easily duplicated. We announced the exact same thought on at least four occasions throughout our hour and a half conversation.
We've been talking for two years about doing a comic together. I believe we should get serious about it very soon.
A good number of people are asking me a review or what I think of Say Anything's In Defense of the Genre. I've sort of avoided doing it, but I may spin one out. But for now, this one line review will have to do: Max Bemis pisses excellence.
OK, I'm finished for now.
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