In a bold attempt at copycatting, and in response to the terrible, horrible, news that For Better or For Worse is STARTING ALL OVER AGAIN with NO REGARD for anybody's feelings, I have launched a Tumblog mashing the art of FBorFW with the writing of Hagar the Horrible.
I've been meaning to do this for a long time: taking pictures of the brutally nerdy political bathroom graffiti in DC. First: campaign finance reform! (Sorry if you can't read it. It says "Feingolddddddd!") Please send in your own finds, as they're everywhere.
In other news, Joe found some change on the floor while he was sweeping last night. I noticed later that he was soaking it in soda water. That's truth, people.
So instead of retiring, the woman who draws 'For Better or for Worse' is starting over. Dear God. 
I'm going to start a For Better or for Worse Minus Everything tumblog. For real.
I recently became a Cha Cha guide (which in other words means I answer questions from random people for a dime apiece), largely because I'm interested in questions people would ask of a service like Cha Cha.
It doesn't disappoint. Recent questions I've answered:
First: I think I've decided on the rest of my pegacornicat tattoo: childhood dog with viking helmet on a throne.
Second: new fake band, perfect for this website:
Apologies for this partially serious post: my dad (who is awesome, fyi) has been dealing with a super-rare condition that's making his vision disappear almost weekly, which is gross considering that he uses them all the time. He started a new treatment this week. I texted my sister while she was at dinner with them, asking how he was, and got this very my dad-like response:
"Tell him I've still got a pulse," he said.
I drew this portrait of Ana last night. She says it looks like Mark David Chapman, I say it looks like Mark David Chapman with horns and fangs.
Marty sends along this picture of me at work last New Year's Eve. Marty lives in Switzerland or somewhere now.
Yesterday at the Giant I waited behind a woman who was locking up her bike for a solid two minutes. The bike had reflectors all over it, and she seemed confused with every step of the process she had undertaken. Lots of locking, unlocking, and relocking of the bike. Finally she was satisfied and went inside, leaving this:
In case you can't tell, the lock is attached to no part of her bike. I almost stole the thing out of principle.
In other amazing news, I joined a fantasy football league. Joe and I have been talking for years about starting a team and managing it according to a perfectly random algorithm, so I decided to see if it is possible.
Step A: Joining a league. I looked for one that would assign players automatically, and with an awesome name. So I joined "Smooth Criminalz."
Step B: Naming of my team. When in a league ending in z, one's team name must also include a z. Therefore, be prepared for in-depth updates regarding my team, Frizzesh Fizzootball. All decisions will be made randomly, except for instances where I
Virtual trash talk: why the internet was invented.
This picture of me and Mitch has been on the fridge for a while but I thought it was worth sharing with the world. For reference, this is the morning after we got to New Orleans in 1999 (I think) for Mardi Gras. Look how tough we are, what with the cigarettes and white-dude gang signs!
Yes, those are the remnants of blond in my hair. That's what's called being with it.
I may or may not include my childhood dog in new tattoo. The whole inside of the arm is free, and lookit!
Mini Restaurant Review Time! Ray's Hell Burger (sister restaurant of Ray's the Steaks/the Classics) is right next to Pho 75, so it's taken us a while to have a burger instead of delicious soup. Today we did.
It comes with corn on the cob and watermelon, and Dominion's draft root beer is available in chilled mugs. Verdict: read the last sentence. Duh.
The Olympic opening ceremonies were last night, which resulted in a treasure trove of text messages. A couple good ones:
from Anne: look @ team usa's gear. they are so ready for yacht rock
another from Anne: i'm pretty sure craig sager's tailor makes bank outfitting olympians*
Craig SagerNot a great picture, but here is the beginning of my new tattoo. It's my left arm, if that's not clear.
Why a cat pegacorn (pegacornicat), you ask? Because of that old tattoo axiom: forearms are for appliances, upper arms for iconic animals.
The dude who is doing it had this drawing up for his next appointment. It is a Gummi Bear diving off of a pizza diving board into a swimming pool full of Gummi Bear parts. (He included spines which I think is a nice touch.) I wanted to get it.
Achewood poses a dialectic. Let it be noted that Roast Beef here describes my next tattoo.
I saw that Skip Caray, voice of the Atlanta Braves (and voice of my childhood), died today, so I texted my brother RIP Skip Caray.
Never one to disappoint, here's the response text: And RIP Alexander Solzeneitzen. Two great voices of the western pantheon.
It's hard to have a bad trip to the beach, it turns out. Even with no sun, and when somebody's car breaks down on the way, the ish still rulez.
The ruling, it turns out, has much to do with being an adult and getting to do whatever you want.
Like, say, eating a snow cone and a caramel apple AT THE SAME TIME.
Or spending $20 on carnival games in exchange for a toy truck and three Dum-Dums.
Like this kid, who was enraptured by the claw.
Really, the entire point of going to the beach is to go to the bars. Or, in the case of Ocean City, the bar. The Bearded Clam, that is. The greatest bar in the world. Why, you ask? Because when you get up from your seats at the nearly-empty bar, they put a reserved sign. Cuz they know you're coming back.
And because they have all sorts of quasi-vintage beer paraphernalia, like this Bud sign which seems to have something grammatically wrong with it. Either way, though, it's still hard to argue with being Uniform and Distinctive at the same time. Just like America!
We stayed at Boss Boss's condo, which was likely built by Khrushchev, and which features a) the least-helpful exit diagram ever,
and b) the best beach-themed lamp ever.
Also, Ana was there!
Bad news.
