A comic about life, love, death, and sweaters, in about three colors.
I have to admit, my broken toe, this cane, theyaren't exactly hurting my jobprospects. And I've alwayswanted a cane, just neededthe excuse. Well, the best creativetypes are wounded... I'd be happy to poke out aneye if you want a little extraedge to go with the cane.

Shine

2008-09-27

This is actually the second time I’ve had to write the blurb for this comic (and the three that follow it), as the webhost for PCT managed to lose a week’s worth of data. But this being a comic about handicaps, I suppose it’s appropriate.

As I had written before the temporary end of the world, canes are amazingly versatile accessories: they aid stability; give task to idle hands; imbue the appearance of wisdom and class; fend off French muggers. It’s true, you know, about the French muggers. Canes were a vital piece to the self-defense art savate throughout the 19th century.

But does having a cane make Kevin cool?

No, no it doesn’t.

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