Everyone should know who they are, because if you know that then you can easily predict what you are going to do next. If you can't do that, then don't come crying to me when you commit a murder, because I'm not going to listen. I'm not even going to pretend that I care about you or your stupid murder that you committed. I'm not even going to listen to the sound of my own fingertips in my ears (Very hard to tune out. The secret: cotton balls.)
OK, another reason that I was not able to blog for a while is that it took me FOREVER to get to the point where I could select a winner for the big contest. The big contest was a contest. The contestants had to try to figure out what the best way was that they could photoshop themselves into a handsome picture. Anyway, here is the winner.

I like this picture primarily because it reminds me of what it is like to stand next to a beautiful woman, which is one of my favorite things to do. If you don't believe me, just consult my personal diary (OH WAIT YOU CAN'T)
The winner's name is Margaret Kelly, and I guess she must be a sexy fox or something because that is what I see here. I will review a comic of her choosing next, but not right now because I'm just mad about one thing that I just have to review of course. I'd say that it was typical, but nothing that I ever do is typical. I make a point of always doing extraordinary things that nobody else would ever do.
Dinosaur Comics.
I am fuming about this, and it is important that you know what that means.
You see, a fume is a stinky smell, and sometimes it is a dangerous smell. Chemicals would be a dangerous smell. Poison is also a dangerous smell, especially if it is a kind of poison that kills you through breathing it. Carbon monoxide would not be a dangerous smell, because carbon monoxide is odorless.
If you need legal advice about carbon monoxide, you might like to try right here.
If you get really angry, you will probably feel the need to do what I do: Exercise. It's a little known fact that when you're angry is the best time to exercise, because there are some brain chemicals or something that make muscles harder and burn fat. That's how I stay in shape, and believe me it works. Anyway, if you exercise a whole lot, then you get something that hasn't been documented in regular science, but as an amateur scientist, I've nicknamed it the "sweat effect."
This is where you get all sweaty.
And of course, when sweat evaporates, you get fumes. I wish I could tell you that wasn't the case, but it is so help me, and I cannot tell a lie.
So anyways, that's the origin of the word fuming when they say that a person is fuming mad.
What am I fuming at? The answer should be obvious. If you haven't got it yet, feel free to take a break and think about it. Maybe do some research. Email me for some good books that you could try researching in.
The answer is Dinosaur Comics. And if you can't see why, then you haven't seen the basic premise of Dinosaur Comics.
The premise of Dinosaur Comics is that it's a comic to see how much crap a man can get away with just because he is tall.
Does that seem fair?
No.
Of course it doesn't.
Everyone should be equal no matter what height they are. It's in the constitution of the United States. Maybe Canadians like Ryan North (the author) could learn a little something from that.
So I poked through the archive, and I think you'll notice the first thing that I noticed: The art, and the way that it is used. See, no matter how good he is at drawing those dinosaurs over and over, and no matter how good he is at getting all kinds of tiny details, Ryan North can't draw a sad expression to save his life. It's atrocious. It's inexcusable. It's enough to make a grown man take a good hard look in a mirror and then go purchase a BMW. (I almost did, BMWs are surprisingly affordable. But I couldn't because I removed all the mirrors from my home. Religious reasons.)
So I guess what we're stuck with is a whole bunch of comics about HAPPY dinosaurs having nauseating happy discussions, and all night long we have to have happiness shoved down our throats. Wave goodbye to life's beautiful tragedies, because Qwantz wants to kill them. Maybe you can hide them, but these big grinning green guys will find them no matter what you do. It's the most disgusting thing I've ever seen, but guess what: I'm not sad about it at all, because I am no longer allowed to experience that emotion.
The Happocolypse has occurred.

Simply disgusting. It's basic knowledge.
Ryan North's writing is full of questions. That's the main problem with it. I mean, another reason of course is that he sounds like he bought a joke book at a garage sale, and it turned out that the previous owner was a genius who scribbled notes in the margins of every page, and when Ryan North read it, he couldn't tell the notes from the jokes, so he just said the whole thing.
The thing that I like least of all, though, is that awful T-rex character. Has anything ever been so ungratifying as he is? No. No. He is the lamest thing since the other day when I hurt myself. Looking him in the eye is just the worst thing that anyone could ever do, and it makes me want to just punch him. I want to punch T-rex until he begs for me to stop punching him.

(((---+++Sonty Mick+++---)))