Blank It Comics

Oh, hello. I didn’t hear you come in. Can I take your coat? You don’t have one? Well, how was I supposed to know that? You didn’t use the “I don’t have a coat” emoticon. And now I look like the jerk.

Well, as long as you’re here, you might as well read the comic that Lemmo drew and I made words for. Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Aric, there aren’t many words.” I’ll have you know that pauses are words too. In fact, pauses can contain an infinite amount of words. So I wrote an infinite amount of words for this comic strip. How about that?

So we have one strip up. Woo! Pop the champaign cork and watch your eyes. On Thursday, we will double the amount of strips we have up! And next Thursday it will be doubled again! Then it gets much harder to double things. But rest assured, things will be double!

Stick around a while, leave some comments, visit the forums, subscribe to the RSS feed, and do whatever it is that comic readers do. But whatever you do, don’t take our comic strip and remove one of the characters. It has been done.

There were some slight technical issues while you were, or should have been, sleeping. But don’t worry! They are resolved! In fact, you probably had no idea there was a problem until we brought it up. I just don’t want there to be any secrets between us. That’s no way to start a relationship with your readers.

And to continue in this vein of honesty, I will not remember your birthday. That doesn’t mean it isn’t important! I don’t mean to imply that you don’t give me joy. It’s something I have a problem with. And I know you’ll get upset with me, even thought I’ve stated this openly from the beginning. As long as we both understand each other, we’ll be good. We’ll make this work.

Also, I probably won’t remember your name. And if I see you at a party, I’ll struggle to think of where I remember you from and end up avoiding you because I won’t remember. And it is nothing that you’ve done. Don’t feel bad. And if you do feel bad, remember that I’ll feel much worse when I banish myself to a bathroom stall to cry and eat my pigs in a blanket alone.

So, to sum things up, the site had some problems but now it doesn’t.

With two weeks of webcomic strips under our belts (I said “webcomic!” Did you catch that, search engines?), I am left to ponder the origins of the phrase “under our belts.” What is under our belts? Our pants? Layers of fat, perhaps? Or maybe guns stuck in there all willy-nilly? None of these options help me visualize this arbitrary milestone. Not that four comic strips on the internet can be called a milestone. I’m just using words all willy-nilly here. Shouldn’t you be gardening or something? It’s the weekend now.

As many of you know, I write for a comic strip called Blank It. I know you know this because you’re right here right now. But I do other comedic things. Let’s focus on one of them.

I perform in an improv group called the Mustache Rangers. We perform a 1920s sci-fi radio drama parody about adventuring through space. But it isn’t just improv. There is a podcast that is up to (giggle) 69 episodes. So there is that for you to enjoy.

But really, I’m just trying to get to the fact that this week contains the Twin Cities Improv Festival! Yes, the Mustache Rangers are performing, but many great acts from around the country will be setting down in the Twin Cities for a lot of comedy.

So if you live in Minnesota, check out the Twin Cities Improv Festival website for groups, times, and tickets.

Also, I love you. That is all.

Lem informed me that it was my turn to blog. He used “blog” as a verb, so let’s start with that. “Write” is a perfectly fine verb, and we should continue using it. If I was about to write on a piece of paper, I would not say that I am going to “paper.” So, I am going to “write” on the blog. Sure, it takes a couple more words. But this way, someone won’t make the mistake of considering me hip and trendy. So that’s a bonus.

In other news, I am entirely successful in not entirely killing my desk plant. Half of it has given up the ghost, but the rest is spreading healthfully towards the humming tubes of light in the ceiling. It is a horrible sort of life, but it could be worse. It could be self aware. But let us not get in to consciousness. At least, that’s what the chemicals in my brain are telling me not to get in to.

There you go, internet! I have written on a blog!