The SPXes


Man, oh man, oh man. SPX! I love you, SPX.

Why would I get up early on Friday and drive forever to see you? Love.

Why would I let you kick me out like you do every year? Why would I spend all Sunday night driving back to Boston? Why would I get home at 6:30 in the morning and then go to work at nine o'clock all bombed out and stupid? Cause I loves you, SPX.

Why would I take all the money I made on my comics and spend it on other comics? Cause I just can't get enough.

Why would I put up with people coming up to my table, reading all my comics, laughing at the funny bits that I always hoped people would laugh at, taking their time looking at every drawing on every page and walking away without even a comment let alone a purchase? Cause I love you (and because those people are the annoying exception to the rule)(and I love you).

Why would I stay up way way way way later than I should drink drink drinking drinks with the other drinky cartoonists? Cause I love you, SPX (and you gave me free drink tickets).

Why would I go up to Scott C. and tell him how awesome he is, which he, like, totally already knew, and then totally forget to give him the comic that my friend and I did solely because we were inspired by the sheer awesomeness of his comics? Cause I'm fucking stupid, SPX (and you'd given me free drink tickets the night before).

Why would I choose to stand behind a table for eight hours in a room with no windows on a truly beautiful Saturday? Cause I loves you, SPX?

Why would I ever eat at a Chili's? Because just like me, Chili's is wanting to be close to you, SPX.

Yeah, SPX is awesome.

If you haven't gone, you definitely should.












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