A comic about life, love, death, and zombies, in about three colors.
I'm back. I graduated. And Inever have to set foot in thathorrid state again. Congratulations, man. Well,pictures? Let's have 'em. No time for pictures. I couldn'tstay in Atlanta any longer thanabsolutely necessary. Kevin, Kevin, Kevin. You havefailed me for the last time.

The Graduate


Kevin on Atlanta:

To those whom love Atlanta, and there are many I’ve befriended along the way, I wish you the best in your life and that the city serves you as well as you serve it. Personally? I pray for the return of Sherman’s ghost to finish what its body began.

The city sprawls to the point of ridiculousness. Home and grad school were roughly 8 miles apart, and planning on a 60-minute drive was not unnecessary. It once took me 3 hours to drive 6.5 miles. Joy.

Public transportation? Doesn’t exist. They have something called “Marta” that will get you to the airport, but it skirts only a corner of downtown, and is therefore completely useless.

Oh, and you can’t buy liquor on Sunday.


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