What is love? A chemical reaction? An artificial significance ascribed to instinctual physical comforts? A capitalistic lie endorsed by opportunistic greeting card companies? A tool for lazy songwriters? A town in Saskatchewan? Seven points in Scrabble?
Speaking of love, Sam's inbox tells me that some people believe his girlfriend Claire was responsible for yesterday's strip. Do you people even listen to yourselves? On the rare occassion that an artist's portfolio shows any diversity, everyone accuses each work of being produced by a seperate person. What a sad commentary on the state of the comic industry today. I think I will go cry in my inkwell.