Sorry your name is


A person holds a piece of paper or perhaps an envelope and reads from it. They're standing about two meters from another person. The first says, "I'm sorry...your name is 'Pleurp'?" The second smiles slightly and says, "You don't have to be sorry. You didn't name me that."

It is fun to say, though. I'm going to be your friend so I get to say it all the time, OK?




The people were astonished at this doctrine


The top half of the image is text containing prose as follows: Mrs. Finnikin said, "Father! There you are!  I passed by the parsonage to bring you a loaf of bread—I always bake too much—and, well,  I was looking for you and—" "Thank you, that was very kind," said Codspittle. She ignored this; something else troubled her.  "Yes, but Father, does the Church know they've sent you to such a dilapidated dwelling?" The bottom half of the image is a comic, with the Reverend Codspittle (who is secretly the being Amunizuwrim) wearing a broad black hat and a dark burgundy jacket and saying, "The comforts of this world offer no rest to me." to Mrs. Finnikin. The latter wears a handkerchief over her head, large glasses, and a dress with a subtle floral print. She looks perhaps stunned at what Codspittle has said and replies, "...I see."

The people were astonished at this doctrine.
(This one won't make sense, let alone have a chance at amusing, unless you've read last Wednesday's comic.)
(And yes, putting so many words in a comic is frowned upon, but this is how I wanted it & also getting in trouble is made up.)




A stick figure in a floppy blue-green hat stands slightly slumped in front of a patch of tall, slender plants, perhaps bamboo. One of her hands rests on a hip, while the other hangs loosely. Caption: "Mimsy Plinth, whose footfall strikes fear into the hearts of worms, feels the world leaving her behind. She'll not go chasing after it, so she'll make the best of the emptying existence around her."

This is by no means the last we'll see of our friend Mimsy Plinth.


Kurt McGurth


A person stands looking at the sky with a hand held over his heart. The background is a vivid sunset. "Kurt McGurth once saw a sunset so powerful, he knew in his heart it had fixed him, but that feeling was wrong."

I guess this is a thing I am doing now?
CrustaceanSingles presents: Dramatis Personae


All was not lost


A person stands under the leafy canopy of tall, graceful trees. The person wears a top hat and, for the viewer's sake, a small cross-section inside the hat is shown: atop the wearer's head inside the top hat, a tiny bowler hat is also worn. Top caption: "All was not lost, thought Orlo. There was still the Secret of the Inner Hat."

Every echo, every shadow seemed to tremble in the mysterious presence of its hidden possibility.


A collection


Two people are seen from behind, standing before an array of shelves. One person gestures at the contents of the shelves and the other holds a glass of pale brown liquid. On the lower shelves are books, a couple bottles with labels "Antifascist Juice" and the Antifascist logo of three downward left-pointing arrows, and a light cavalry sword accompanied by a plaque inscribed with the letters "WWJBD" (which stands for "What Would John Brown Do?"). The upper shelves hold various skulls, each of which is oddly shaped in some way; one has two lobes at the top reminiscent of a pair of buttocks, another has very close-set eye sockets and elongated canine teeth.   The bottom caption reads, "You like 'em? Phrenologist skulls. Hunted 'em down myself."   Some of the book spines are only partially legible, but here's as complete a description as I can offer, with titles separated by commas: Victory to Ukraine, The Conquest of Bread (real book & recommended reading), Rojava, Darfur, HC / HR, 1312, Rest in Piss Kissinger, Zero Billionaires, Prosecute J6 GOP, Solidarity, Abolition Everywhere, Land Back, No Excuse for Genocide, Freedom [in Arabic], BSD, Free Palestine, Antizionism is  NOT Antisemitism.  There could have been many other deserving causes and real books represented here, I know. Forgive me my many omissions; this was all off the top of my head.
 Dangerously wrong ideas, yes, but not particularly dangerous game.


Soup that makes you act weird


One person says to another, "You've been acting so weird ever since you started eating that soup all the time. What *is* it?" The other, holding a steaming cup, grins a little manically and says, "The guy who sells it out of his van calls it 'Bolivian Marching Chowder'."
The name of the soup has been an intrusive thought running through my head for days, so this is mostly an attempt to exorcise it.



 "Your life is about to get a lot simpler. That's the Cloaca Guarantee!" says a bird. Then there's a link to ko-fi.com/crustaceansingles

This spiritual continuation of today's comic has been lingering in my mind all day, insisting upon itself. I'm supposed to keep this kind of thing on my ko-fi and then link to it on all the platforms, but then the algorithm punishes me for encouraging you go offsite and anyway, this is important enough* that I want everyone to see it.

* No I'm not a paid shill for the Cloaca-Industrial Complex & I can't believe you would accuse me of that.

Why can't my life be simple


A person crouches down next to a seabird and asks it, "Why can't my life be simple like yours?" The bird tilts its head way back and makes a sound transcribed as "ŋgɑwq". The person sighs "yeah..."
I think about this conversation a lot.




A strange, antlered quadruped with the face of a human stick figure stands at the start of a path into a dark forest and says, "Would you say anyone knows you took a shortcut through the forest today?"

Reusing art with new writing is better than posting a rerun is better than posting nothing is better than trying to force it when it's not possible (???)


See the origin of the character here (it's the same drawing)


Weird dream


One person sits in a cage suspended by a chain over a fire. They are smiling and saying, "And then when the dream ended, here I was, telling you about it." The person they're speaking to, presumably their captor, listens with a perplexed expression and folded arms.

 I have been on the phone all day trying to get my first delivery of the latest & greatest injectable bone-hurting juice (MS drug) without spending eight thousand freedom bucks a month (and yes it is very messed up that my auditory processing disorder and I just had to power through the very inaccessible medium of highly compressed audio in this twenty-first century) and so anyway, to conclude this oversharing rant, here is some nonsense straight from my drafting notebook.


Cool accent


Title: A True Story.  One person, friendly and interested, says to another: "Cool accent! Where's that from?" The other replies with a rueful smile: "Brain damage." Around this second person's head is a sort of halo crossed with a labyrinth drawn in awkward lines, because I am a serious artist.

   Real things people have said to me: "It sounds like you're an American who grew up at an embassy in Europe or something. / Is that a Canadian dialect? / Are you from one of those little islands off the coast of New England...? / It's gotta be one of the Commonwealth countries, right?"
   (It's currently *mostly* hyperarticulation to compensate for the brain damage.)
   (For the record, I don't really mind. I have a linguistics background & a front-row seat to witness a very interesting catastrophe.)


One bottle left


Panel 1 of 4: A stick figure viewed from the chest up smiles and says, "Juice time."  Panel 2 of 4: The same figure crouches before an opened refrigerator, looking and reaching for a the back of a shelf and thinking, "One bottle left at the back. Passed over every time before It is your turn at last." Visible on the door shelf of the fridge are some bottles, one marked with a plus-minus symbol and another with an ampersand, and two jars appearing to contain a forked gherkin and kalamata olives respectively. On the top shelf, a container marked "dubious paste" and a jug labeled "ilk minus".  Panel 3 of 4: A closeup: the figure's hand holds a bottle of dark purple juice with a dark purple-grey label reading "The Final Juice".  Panel 4 of 4: The view returns to chest up of the figure, who now frowns with a hand pensively rested on their chin and says, "Ehhh...not that thirsty." END

Thanks for joining me on this juiceposting journey. Tomorrow I return to the wilderness, resuming my usual wanderings until I find the next obsession.
Over the last month, I drafted many, many more adventures in juice. I am going to compile them, along with the dailies I've posted & various notes & commentaries, into a small book or zine. I'm going to aim for a digital version on a pay-what-you want basis and see if I can even manage that much. A stretch goal would be to produce a limited run of physical copies to sell or trade.
If you want to help make that happen, here are some things you can do: 1) comment something to the effect of "do it do it DO IT" / 2) deliver a small monetary encouragement at ko-fi.com/CrustaceanSingles / 3) send me any Juice That Makes You Less of A Disaster you may have lying about.
Thanks for reading.




Panel 1 of 2: One person stands at a table, pouring juice from a bottle labeled 'juice' into one of two glasses on the table, and asks another person at the opposite side of the table, "Hey, you want some of this juice?" The other looks interested but wary and asks, "I dunno...what does it do to you?"  Panel 2 of 2: Same scene. The first replies, "'What does it do to you?' It's just juice. You drink it." The other answers, a little annoyed, "That's all? Why bother?"
If it doesn't show you a world where you don't exist, or make you speak in riddles, or with a little luck turn you into one or more birds, what's even the point?


Moving on


Panel 1 of 3: a hand holds a bottle. The label reads "Juice that helps you move on". Panel 2 of 3: A stick figure tips the bottle with a blank expression and thinks, "Here goes nothing..." Panel 3 of 3: The figure holds the bottle and stares blankly past it. The space behind them is occupied by a large thought bubble. At the top of the thought bubble, a bird says, "We can't be friends anymore" in hand-lettered text; a memory. Below this, the words, "It happened. It was bad. It is over now and I am not."

Am I ready? Is there such a thing?
(I've made a version with the top of the third panel's thought bubble cleared and transparent for your editing convenience: https://ko-fi.com/i/IW7W8UZI7P. Consider this an invitation.)


Bottled sky


Depicted is the shape of a glass bottle on a table. Instead of the glass material, label, or contents, the outline of the bottle is like a hole in its own scene, one behind which is seen a landscape painting, more or less realistic according to my abilities. A flat, dark ocean occupies no more than a tenth of the bottle's volume at the bottom, above which is a sky full of fluffy clouds. This is all intended to resemble the style and themes of Magritte's work without copying any one painting and in keeping with the theme of bottles of juice that I've been constraining myself to this month. Oh, and also there's some writing carved into the table: "AL (heart with a '7' in it) SM". It's unrelated to the rest of the image.

(Turns out I wasn't done with Magritte. I'm never done with Magritte.)


Being and Uselessness

Depicted is a glass bottle filled with liquid. The label reads, "Ceci n'est pas du jus." In English, "This is not juice." It is an allusion to René Magritte's "La Trahison des Images" (The Treachery of Images) which depicts a pipe and is sub-titled "Ceci n'est pas une pipe." I even copied the handwriting.

Juice that lazily appropriates an important piece of philosophical art by one of my favorite artists ever, adding essentially nothing to it.
Or maybe it doesn't meet the legal definition of 'juice' because of additives and adulterants. Or something.
(Some of you may recall from intermediate French that the partitive article reduces to de/d' after a negation, but negation with être is in fact an exception to the rule. Knowing obscure French grammar and teaching it to fellow undergrads was my actual job for a couple years. Do not take me for a conjurer of cheap tricks.)