January 31, 2004
Got an instant message from my son Tomas in Spain at about 3:30 (11:30 pm his time). He was wondering how the Cats are doing. That would be the Arizona Wildcats, playing at Washington State. He had bought some computer hookup that was supposed to get him the game but it wasn’t working. So I ran over to the house, turned on the game and then ran back to the studio every five minutes or so with an update. Fun. Wildcats won, but barely.

Did several sketches this morning, went for a walk, took two naps, got embroiled in an e-mail cat fight which I didn’t want to have. So non-productive and a waste of time. I made a vow to turn off the computer and get some serious work done, but here I am (4:22) typing away.

I’ve been cleaning and found a sketchbook full of drawings and “comedic” ideas from 1994-95. The loose sketches are decent, but the writing is way weak. Need to keep that in mind. I’m not going to be a John Fusco or a Gary Trudeau (Doonsebury). Never will. Quit pretending that it could happen. I’m not good at it. I can draw pretty good.and I should be thankful for that (Wild Bill sketches are from Jan. 23, 1994).

Hey, what do you think of Custer? Hero? Pompous buffoon? Make your vote right here.

Buddy Boze Bell keeps passing gas. He’s lying right behind my chair and every time I look back at him, he gives me this look that says, “It’s not me, it’s Peaches.” I’m going to take him for a walk and air him out.




“It is a mistake to trust a man with an honest face. After all, that may be the only honest part of him.”
—Old Vaquero Saying