If I Were Gay and He Weren't Married, Ryan North Would Totally Be My Husband

As any regular reader of this blog (or anyone who knows me) knows, I don't care for most stuff. I find the world and the majority of its inhabitants really stupid. It's probably pretty telling that the only long-term relationship I've ever been able to maintain has been with my dog. Though to be fair, she's smarter  and more likable than 90% of people I've ever met.

But the few things I like, I have a tendency to become obsessed with. I'm sure most people do this to some extent, but given that I have a very...odd would be the police way to put it, I guess...view of the world, whenever I find someone who shares that twisted version of reality, I stick with them. Because it's not too often someone like me meets another person who generally sees the world in the same way.

Anyway, this is all a rambling way of saying I fucking love Dinosaur Comics. It's witty, funny, too smart by a half, and as sardonic as a mid-period Dylan album. It's the kind of comedy that makes me laugh and yet be somewhat bitter, because it's exactly the kind of stuff I would write if I were, you know, funny or clever at all.

I suggest you bookmark it, read it daily, and send some cash moneys that guy's way (I'm led to believe being an internet comic is not a very financially-rewarding career choice). Anyway, today's strip was especially hilarious/meaningful to me:

If I were to describe my perfect woman, it would be exactly as T-Rex describes her: great at science, makeouts, hijinks, and heists. Failing that, I'd settle for a polypous creature in a crown of weeping faces, provided of course, she's wearing the barely-there bikini.

Regardless, as we speak, I'm sending my open girlfriend-position notice to the Perfect Woman Finishing School, so I should have a lady friend by the end of the week...