Same direction

Top text, not contained by a speech bubble, diegetic origins unclear: "Is Grambo following that duck?" Grambo, a stick figure with an upward curling chin or perhaps poorly delineated beard, walks a few paces behind a worried-looking duck. The duck turns its head to look behind itself and asks Grambo, "*Are* you following me?" Grambo replies, "Oh. I think we're just going the same way. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Straight from an incoherent late-night drafting session (but with illegible scrawl turned to somewhat legible lettering typeface for your convenience).



This one has a lot of words at the top: "You think that must be a rejection. Do you feel disappointment? Relief? / But the next morning, you find this on your doorstep. Is it a seed? An egg? A spore? There are no instructions, so you trust it doesn't need any. / You hold it and say to yourself, 'Welcome to the Uncanny Growth.'" The illustration is of a hand holding the aforementioned seed or egg or spore, which is larger than the palm of the hand and has an approximate teardrop shape with ridges, chambers, and a rough or perhaps even serrated texture. Its surface is black and purple.

I know it's too many words, but can we just take a moment to appreciate that this is the closest I have ever come to drawing a cromulent human hand?


Application submitted


A dense profusion of foliage on thick vines occupies the top and left three quarters of the frame. The bottom right shows a sort of passage into the tangle. One of the branches of the vine has extended and curled at the end. Captions: "You ask to join the Uncanny Growth. It nods a tendril. A voice rustles: 'Thank you for your interest. We'll be in touch."

"Anticlimax doesn't really count as a joke," I tell myself. But I never listen.



Posted rules


A sign stuck into the ground says "Sky to remain clear at all times". One cloud looks at it worriedly, while another grins and says, "What's city hall gonna do about it?"

I was feeling stuck compulsively making this useless stuff every day. Then I stumbled into an even more specific (constrained) version, like locking myself inside a box inside the cell I'd already locked myself inside. Where do I go from here? What am I doing with my l


Far beyond


A cloud in the approximate shape of a head with a triple-forked beard floats in the foreground of a sky with scattered clouds. It has a face and uses one of its beard forks as a tentacle to grasp a tiny human figure, holding it up as though speaking to it. "I will grow too weird to be deemed right or wrong".
This increasingly feels like it's run its course, but I barely remember who I was before the wrongposting began.


Possibly not right


Two distant stick figures stand and sit respectively on a low grassy hill. One points up at an improbable formation of clouds. The clouds seen from the reader's perspective appear to spell out the word "wrong", although of course this would be mirrored from the perspective of the people on the hill. The pointing person asks the other, "Do those clouds look right to you?"

The fact that I suspect this to be my greatest accomplishment is more a reflection on all my past work than a recommendation of the comic you see before you, but



Old Man Jeffords


Two youths stand in the background. One gestures at a man in the foreground. The man has a long, white-and-grey beard, a somewhat dazed expression, and wears an old white bedsheet like a poncho. He says, "boo?" The gesturing youth explains, "That's old man Jeffords. He put on that bedsheet on Halloween night twenty-some years ago, looked in the mirror, & scared himself so bad he thought he'd died & become a ghost on the spot. Acts like one ever since."

 He thinks his unfinished business is giving away candy, so it's pretty much a best-case scenario.


Unlikely being


A balloon with a face, including vampire fangs, thinks, "How did I even happen? Seems implausible at best."

Feels like I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel every day lately, but the demon who gives me my ideas isn't answering my texts.





A pumpkin, uncarved, has a thought bubble: "What could be scarier than no face at all?"

It's not because I'm scared of knives. Don't tell everyone I'm scared of knives.