Notes:Perhaps this strip is best described by it's title. I'm not sure what happened here. It might be that I tried to streach a 4 panel comic into 8 panels. It might also be that I occationally have ideas that would work A LOT better if they were animated or something. I might also link it to the fact I myself was about to have to fly to New York to attend my first year of Collage. Which was far worse than it might have been, seeing as I live in the middle of the fricken Pasific Ocean. No idel trips home for me. This is around 18 hours of transit, including actualy driving to an airport and sitting around for around three hours on average in one. Most of which I cannot sleep since I normally can't in airplanes and cars.

Basically at the end of these trips I am no longer sane, though fortunately, not dangerously so. At right around that level of sleep deprivation I fall into one of two states depending on how much sleep I got the night before and how long I was up before I started it. The if I've done well, I get off and I'm babbling. I talk until I draw everyone around me into the dark pit of madness with me. This is aided by the fact that I don't always make very much sence at this point either.

If it goes badly, I'm a lot less likely to give away national secrets, seeing as I'm close to catatonic. Actually, the prilimary part of this stage is pretty good. I've got a second wind, and I'm getting all my stuff organised.

Then I get in a car.

Regardess of which state I'm in, I'm not fit to drive when i get there. In the previous one I'm far, far too distractable. In this one, for whatever reason, once I'm in a car, every type of input, be it visual, audio or tactil, becomes pure pain. Needless to say, this is quite unpleasent. This is also quite unfortunate since I live more than an hour's drive from the airport on either end.

Either way though, I'm not very functional when I get there. And my only thought is that of sleep.

That entry for the random tanget award aside, I suppose the last thing to say is that, doesn't everybody, in they're deepest heart of hearts, wear polkadot shirts and stripy pants?