Comics from (mostly) this year!

This year, I actually drew quite a few pages of comics, but you probably didn’t see them because I only posted them on Twitter. I may collect them into a little PDF or something once I’ve done more, but for now you can read them all here. Merry Christmas!

Note: The first two are actually from 2020. I’ve also not included the “Bread Bible” comics, because I’ll probably put those in a separate post when I’ve completed them. You can read those on Twitter here if you want to see the story so far.

Like a Pack of Dogs


1. [A person with a RODENT SKULL for a head stands on a balcony.]

2. RODENT SKULL: Sometimes, I want to come at these jobs like a pack of dogs.

3. RODENT SKULL: I fantasize about applying to every one of these low-to-no-paying jobs.
Jobs for asshole companies—jobs I don’t even want.

4. RODENT SKULL: Going to the interviews, then getting an offer, and turning it down.
“Sorry, I won’t work for a company who so openly disrespects me in their job posting.”

5. RODENT SKULL: As if I’d even GET an offer!

6. RODENT SKULL: As if I’d even get an INTERVIEW!

Signed FB 8-23-2020

This Can’t Sustain


1. [Two people, one whose body is invisible, one whose body is entirely a glossy black, are in a living room. The black one, 8-BALL, stands, pouring wine into the other’s mug. The invisible one, BLANCA, sits on a coffee table.]

BLANCA: This can’t sustain.

2. 8-BALL: What, our drinking?
The pandemic that’s driving us to it?

3. 8-BALL [pouring wine into their own mug]: The whole-ass state that’s on fire, and refuses to do controlled burns?

4. 8-BALL: The hotter and hotter years that will eventually render even controlled burns useless?

5. 8-BALL: The whole wretched capitalist system and the stupid moribund world it’s given us?

6. BLANCA: Me being single. I need to get laid, dude.
Signed FB 9-30-2020



1. TEXT: I want to gag.
[a skeleton sitting at a table with a drink.]

2. TEXT: You ever hear of this thing called a choke pear?
[someone in leggings and a sports bra doing push ups.]

3.TEXT: It’s a weird pseudo-historical device. Unclear if it was ever actually used for torture.
[a chokepear]

4. TEXT: It goes in your mouth.
[eyeball-headed person stands in a grocery aisle.]

5. TEXT: I’m so hungry, and nothing in here could make me full.
[bird-headed person checks their mailbox.]

6. TEXT: I’m so hungry all the damn time.
[person in a dunce cap sits, with their fist against the side of their head, at one end of a table. in the forground, the skeleton hand with the drink from the first panel is visible.]
Signed FB 20-6-21

Magda Isn’t Coming Down


1. [rodent skull person stands in front of a staircase.]
RODENT SKULL [holding up their hand, palm out]: Don’t talk to her, she’s busy being tragic.

2. [a ghost stands in front of a table set with various dishes and tupperwares of food.]
GHOST: Is she still in her room? I’d. I’d hoped to see her.

3. [close up on a messenger app. incoming text message.]
TEXT MESSAGE: Magda machine broke. Please proceed to the next available service window.

4. [8-BALL sits on the couch, arms folded tight across chest.]
8-BALL: Like she’s the only one with problems. Like ghosting all your friends isn’t— Because like—

5. [eyeball-headed person stands outside holding a cup.]
EYEBALL: I dragged myself across town, baked for the first time in months to have something to bring, and she can’t even walk downstairs into her own living room for …

6. [EYEBALL crushes the cup in their hand. tears well in their eye.]
EYEBALL: For like one minute? I miss
Signed FB 4-7-21

Stupid Parenthetical


1. [eyeball-headed person stands at the corner of an intersection, beside a bus stop sign.]
TEXT: I went out to the Wissahickon (alone.)

2. [EYEBALL is riding the bus.]
TEXT: Packed a couple of the brownies I baked yesterday (for only me to eat.)

3. [EYEBALL stands beside the Wissahickon creek at the trailhead by the bus stop. A large viaduct bridge breaks through the trees in the background.]

4. [EYEBALL walks along the trail in  a heavily wooded area]
TEXT: Maybe I’ll go to that bar on Poplar tonight (alone.)

5. [EYEBALL stops beside a sign where the trail splits in two directions.]
TEXT: That stupid parenthetical plagues me.

6. [EYEBALL from only the shoulders up, leaning forward.]
TEXT: I can’t do anything nice for myself without the reminder that I’m doing it (alone.)
Signed FB 27-7-21

Just Move In 1


1. [Exterior of the top floor of a rowhouse. One window is open, and a disembodied gloved hand sticks out, holding a lit cigarette.]
BLANCA [O.S., except their hand]: When are you two gonna just move in?

2. [8-BALL is bent over looking in the refrigerator.]
8-BALL: What, sick of me?

3. [BLANCA stands beside the windowsill. Their body is invisible. They wear gloves.]
BLANCA: Yeah, cause we both know you’re the messy roommate.
8-BALL [O.S.] Ha.

4. BLANCA: No, but you’ve been dating for a while, and—

5. 8-BALL [holding two beer bottles, closing the refrigerator door behind them]: I’ll move in with him, but he’s gotta ask me.

6. 8-BALL [walking to BLANCA]: I’m not gonna live with someone who can’t even vocalize his desires.
Signed FB, 20.7.21

Just Move In 2


1. [BLANCA takes a bottle in one hand and puts their cigarette in their mouth with the other.]
BLANCA: 8, that’s, c’mon.

2. BLANCA [accepting a bottle opener from 8, O.S.]: You know that’s ridiculous.

3. BLANCA [opening the bottle]: What if he’s thinking the same thing?

4. 8-BALL: Great! Then we can be immature together.
We’ve self-selected out of the decent people pool.

5. [Exterior. BLANCA and 8-BALL are framed by the window, 8-BALL standing over BLANCA’s shoulder.]
BLANCA: I guess.
8-BALL: Stasis is so comfortable.

6. 8-BALL [gesturing with their open bottle]: You know he only knows how to cook one thing?
It’s great!
Signed FB, 12.12.21

Failed Writer


1. MAGDA [extending her hand to an unseen person]: Magda—I’m a failed writer.

2. MAGDA [raising a finger in objection]: Yes—well—failed writer.

3. MAGDA [holding her hands apart]: Because there’s a difference!

4. MAGDA [daintily holding her hand to her collarbone]: Me? Failed Writer.

5. MAGDA [sitting on a couch with her feet pulled up onto the cushions, one knee hugged to her chest, her head cocked to one side]: You must be confused.
See I used to be a writer. Now, I’m a failed writer.

6. [the same scene as the previous panel, but zoomed in now.]
MAGDA: Clear now?
Signed FB 19-12-21

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