At least it's something....

No cartoon today, sorry folks, but I can't seem to find my white-out.

So, in lieu of such, I'm going to tell you a story that really happened to me. Well, "happened" is a relative term. Actually, everything is a relative term. Everything is relative. Which is why you shouldn't sleep around, because that's probably your brother.

Anyway--and pardon if I've told you this one before--here is my story.

This happened about ten years in the future, when I was about thirty-2.
I was working in my secret basement lab on trying to recrate the conditions of this really cool experiment I had just done like a week before that resulted in the Boston Dinosaur Scare (which you can find on wikipedia, if you're so ignorant that you don't know what I'm talking about). I had all of the chemicals in their proper proportions and the apple was sitting on the cat, just like the time before, when I heard a soft "pop" noise from behind me.

When I turned around to see what manner of hell-deamon God had summoned to smite me this time, I was met with a sight stranger than I had expected.

Usually these demonic servants of the lord are tall and have big horn which I use to make really cool beer glasses, but this was no such deamon. In fact, it didn't appear to be a deamon at all. Actually it looked like a version of myself, about ten years older. It seemed obvious, due to the fact that his shiny future jumpsuit was shinier than my shiny future jumpsuit, that this was myself from at least ten years in the future, come back to tell me something of vital importance. I knew that whatever was about to come out of my mouth would change my life forever.

However, just to be on the safe side, I shot my future self with a lazer pistol and made a mental note never to go back in time to warn myself of anything.

I then went back to my experiment, which led to the Great East Coast Dinosaur Horror of '16-'23. Man, that was one wicked party. W i c k e d .

Anyway, about a week after that was over I was just sorta "chillin'n-out" in the Hague, and I realized that this story was so funny that I had to tell myself about it. So in my "hotel room," using bits of lint and a time machine I built a time machine, which I used to go back in time to my eleventh birthday and tell myself about the whole thing.

Now, this didn't go over very well, as far as I can tell, because in the act of telling myself this story I was arrested for crashing an eleven-year-old's birthday party, and for being generally creepy. I can remember hearing the story as an eleven-year-old and forever thereafter being totally enthused about dinosaurs.

Anyway, after getting arrested, I used my time machine, which I had hidden in my "pocket," to escape back to the present, which I know may be a little confusing given the context of this story, but, ya know, work with me here.

When I got back to the present, and really this is the best part, I found a muffin and I ate it and it was really good.

So-- and I don't even know why I would have to tell you this--is that dinosaurs invariably lead to muffins. However my lawyer would like me to again reiterate that I had NOTHING to do with the Rediculously Awesome Canadian Muffin Nightmare of '67. Tom Cruise admitted that he was beind that. It was all him. I was at home the whole time. Just...eatin' rice.