S2F: Out-Of-This-World Party Dome.

Happy New Year!

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S2E: Roads? Where we're going, we don't need roads.

Yeah... I've been lagging. Sorry about that. I really have been honestly busy! Tranarchy!, Popular Linguistics, new job, Texas English Project... I've got crap to do from here til next decade. Still, no excuse is a good excuse... I'll do better.

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S2D: Land of Lincoln

Haha! Love that joke.


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S2C: Self-time.

Ah, yes... the "mement" or "mo-me". We all need them sometimes.


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S2B: Magic Moments

True story.

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S2A: Summer's Over—ACK!

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Welcome to Season Two of Life After Ph.D. – Yet Another Webcomic!

Y'know, I know it's unpopular, but I've always really loved "Cathy" comics. The news that Cathy was calling it quits really bummed me out. Cathy Guisewite... I'll miss you. It's not just manic females that suffer from body image problems, an inability to communicate with men, and chocoholism. Consider this my tribute.

Season Two of LAPhD will publish twice weekly, Monday/Tuesday and Thursday/Friday. Mark your calendars!

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Fifty-Eight: Take the two shots, or send her out?

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Remember the first time you learned that Bart Simpson's pointy head was actually hair? It was an episode where they went to church, I'm sure (probably the episode where he spends the car ride home saying 'Hell'). Yeah. Same is true for Mr. Arrow. Turns out that his arrow-point head is actually his hair, and he's letting it get wild for summer. He's also wearing a Hawaiian shirt, in honor of the suburban summer traditions of his youth.

Dr. Rectangle, meanwhile, is playing croquet. He's red. He's ALWAYS red.

But anyway... 58 issues in 5ish months. Not bad, not bad at all. For real, though, please tune back in on August 23rd for the second season of Life After Ph.D. Some highlights of the new season include: The Humanatees; King Jojoba meets Chief Awapuhi; Mayor McCheese's Special Sauce; and a whole new round of characters!

See you in August!

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PS>>> I need your photos! Help me by contributing background images to LAPhD! Empty background/landscape shots are best, but really any shot taken from about four feet above the ground is good. So get on your knees, snap some shots, and e-mail them to me!

Fifty-Seven: Judge Not, Lest Pee Be Judged

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Ripped from the pages of real life! No, for real, I stepped in something wet last night and then *very carefully* took off my socks without looking at them because I didn't want to know if the wetness was yellow or not. They dried on the back of a chair, and then I put them back on to go out.

My dryer is broken, so I have no clean socks, nor any way to dry wet socks other than by 'hanging them up'.

Don't judge me. If you own pets then there's *no way* you haven't done--or at least thought of doing--the same thing.

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Fifty-Six: Intellectualsim.

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My sister, who was a Classics major (who was also a Spanish major; dual degree, not double major), told me a joke about Phoenicians once. I don't remember it exactly, but it was hilarious and way dorky.

For anyone keeping score, the (lightening bolt) "Bolt" character is Hispanic, hence the "jaja", and Mr. Arrow's shirt is the cleverest typography-nerd joke I have ever seen in my life (sadly, not my joke, but the originator has been lost to the sands of the internet).

In other news, my update schedule has been thrown for a loop with this new job. I'd been trying to keep to my thrice-weekly schedule, but it looks like that just isn't going to work out. I'm officially going to have to go to twice-weekly, with no specific days for when the updates happen. Sorry for the indeterminacy, but I do have to make money, afterall.

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Fifty-Five: Ciao!

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I got an awesome new job. My old job can shove it; I got an AWESOME NEW JOB!!!

Yay, me.

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Fifty-Four: Telephone, a Gaga Tribute

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Significant Lover has been singing "Telephone" non-stop for two weeks. I had to do something about it.

If you haven't seen the Lady Gaga & Beyoncé video for "Telephone" this might not make any sense to you. If you have seen it, I hope you enjoyed the LAPhD take on it.

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Fifty-Three: Interruptus

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Today's comic may or may not be directly related to this week's Boilerplate 3.0 post, "Notes from under the ground".

Nah, it isn't. It is, however, symbolic of the many pies I currently have my fingers in. For example, I reopened my LiveJournal account for some diary-style blogging not appropriate for the more journalistic Boilerplate 3.0. But that's just the start of it. Additionally, not only is there Boilerplate 3.0 - The Blog!, but this week will also see the launch of Boilerplate Media (aka BPM), the promotions/marketing company I'm starting, which, in addition to providing me with real freelance work, also functions as the umbrella for my various other media projects, including The 9, Popular Linguistics Online, Life After Ph.D., and The Apophenia of Modernity. AND, on top of all that, I'm still trying to be an academic and get the website for the Texas English Project running smoothly before the end of August. Whew!

I decided to be awesome this month.

Also: Yes, those are vuvuzela.

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Fifty-Two: Like sands through the hourglass...

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Prince of Persia was a really REALLY bad movie.

Also, Significant Lover really does have a large knife/dagger collection.

That is all.

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Fifty-One: Lovesong

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Absolutely any Sunday-Funnies-style webcomic around today owes a huge debt of gratitude to Randall Munroe and xkcd. Thank you, Mr. Munroe.

However, though xkcd will always be my first love, it's not what got me into webcomic-ing. That honor goes to (a suggestion by my friend, Ali Rex, and) Hijinks Ensue. You're tribute is coming, HE, I promise!

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Fifty: Tooth Truth.

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For those of you who don't know, this past weekend I got my tooth broken. Not "chipped" as some people have been saying, but 1/4-of-my-tooth-got-knocked-out *broken*. I have been made ugly. Le sigh...

There are two possible versions of the story of how I lost my tooth. One involves my valiant fight against Nazi Werewolves, one involves an over-excited Significant Lover at the QueerBomb Party. Which is real and which is imaginary? You be the judge.

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Forty-Nine.

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Yeah, yeah, yeah. This comic isn't very funny. Well, there are two reasons for that. (a, the political reason) A 10% chunk of the population being denied basic rights isn't very funny, and
(b, the real reason) There was originally a six-panel Austin Pride hilarity that came before this, and this 'soap box comic' was just tacked on at the end, but because I'm an idiot, I didn't save any of my six-panel hilarity in the process of making it, and then my Photoshop crashed and I lost everything—ALL FOUR HOURS OF WORK, GONE. It was a really, really, REALLY upsetting moment. Here's what the world will never get:

Austin Pride Chairman Chad Peevy as Emperor Palpatine; Non-Profit Ewoks; Sacrificial Ponies; Gay Storm Troopers; Sandra Bernhard as C3PO; a Peevy Media Deathstar; Austin QueerBomb organizer Silky Shoemaker as She-Ra; She-Ra's trusty steed, Swiftwind; dancing; rainbow star explosions.

So pissed at Photoshop right now...


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Forty-Eight: The Party's Over.

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For the record, Significant Lover's Mother has never drunkenly hit on me at a party.

I miss Myspace. I want to leave facebook, but I know it's not possible. Not because I'm addicted, but because not having facebook would be like not having a phone in your room in high school in 1995. It wouldn't be absolute social ostracization, but it would be embarrassing. As far as connecting to people in the modern world, there's just NO OTHER OPTION. This unfortunate fact is, at least tangentially, related to the "Singular Now" post on Boilerplate 3.0. You should check it out.

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Forty-Seven: Cute shoes, at least.

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So, while the Life After Ph.D. characters are not *direct* representations of me, my Significant Lover, and my friends, they're usually pretty close to reality. Anyone who knows me knows how likely I am to have done exactly this. A few of you may even have stories...

But, for the record, this did not just happen. Did not happen, just last weekend. Not at all.

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Forty-Six: Dominate me, Pac-Man.

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Pac-Man turned 30th yesterday! I can't believe I'm almost as old as Pac-Man! hehe.

For me, Pac-Man is always shaded with an awkward, semi-borrowed nostalgia because while most people think of this when they think of Pac-Man, I think of this. You see, the podunk town I grew up in didn't have an arcade, so I didn't ever interact with the arcade version of games. The closest I got to an arcade, in fact, was the Ms. Pac-Man cocktail table at the Pizza Hut one town south-east of us.

Le sigh...

No, friends, the Pac-Man I loved was an Atari 2600 port. Watch a commercial for it here and here; learn about it (and all things Atari) here.

Wanna play some Atari on your computer? Here's a great emulator (though, without the black-orange-red joystick, it's slightly less fun).

In other news...
Those sparkly blue stars on Mr. Arrow in the fifth panel are bits of gaybar dance-glitter. You cannot *not* come home covered in glitter if you've gone dancing at the gaybar. [Side Note: It's been said that glitter is the herpes of the craft world, but here in Austin where crafting is a DIY-punk love-in way of life; the herpes of the craft world is actual herpes.]

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