I wore a t-shirt today with an odd illustration of mine affixed as a thick, impermeable iron-on. This meant that a large rectangle in the middle of my torso felt (and smelled) like it was wearing a rubber suit. Tiny colonies of flesh-eating fungal tendrils, with tiny eyes and teeth, sprouted over my sternum. A localized thunderstorm made my navel crackle with lightning. And yet I still wear the shirt, so enamored am I of the vaguely creepy little dudes I drew. Oh vanity, oh pride…
