A comic about life, love, death, and space, in about three colors.
When I was your ageI was busy readingHenry Miller andWilliam S. Burroughs. Gay. I hate children.

Children of the Corn


I don’t understand kids. So much whining. So much dependence. Such high voices and poor grammar.

Why can’t juvenile humans mature through a tadpole stage, tucked neatly away, out of sight, in some mossy, bug-filled pond?

And why stop there? Why not just keep them that way? Let’s face it, most kids are annoying well into adulthood.

Please rotate your tiny device.