So in case none of you have noticed, I have a thing about spiders. And by thing, I mean of course crippling and debilitating terror. I started 99 Ways to Spi as a way to convince myself that my fears are ridiculous, that there is no way possible that they are as terrifying in life as they are in my head. You know what happened? I MADE MY FEARS WORSE.

Seriously, spiders are now the ISIS of my life. The weather is turning cold and rainy and they come indoors and I see them and it’s like they’re slowly encircling the camp like natives surrounding the heroes in a bad adventure movie. “I don’t like it Thompson, it’s too quiet out there”. I feel like whatever I suspected them of was only the icing on the terror cake they bring to the table.

And suddenly my facebook feed is full of spiders. Giant spider on a broom. Jumping spider takes out the cameraman. New species of spider pretends to be a dried up leaf. A dried up leaf! And in my heart if not my head I know… I KNOW that if it can be a leaf, it can be my cell phone. And once I put it up to my ear it can burrow through my auditory canal to lay eggs in my brain and eat me from the inside, killing me and driving me mad simultaneously. Just like I know that if I wash a spider down the drain it will somehow find a way to merge it’s DNA with one of the mutant alligators that was flushed in NYC and their monstrous spawn will return for revenge.


This is why you don’t brush with the water running.


It would seem I would have better things to worry about, and I do. And it would seem these fears are silly, and they are. Nonetheless, spiders are terrifying and evil and harbingers of Cthulhu, but I won’t quit drawing them because I title promised 99 of these puppies and I love you, readers. Not going back on my words, I’m just playing through the pain.

Taking one for the team,



Cha Cha Cha… sameness…

I’m making some itty bitty teeny tiny changes here. Little tiny things really because I know in these times of uncertainty and upheaval, you need something to rely on. Like you can rely on me. I understand there are a lot of people out there that like people that say they are the best. So in the interest of building bridges, I’ll go ahead and say I’m the best. There. Don’t you feel better?

So… changes. If you’ve only been looking at the main page, you may not have noticed my new pet project 99 ways to spi. It’s my therapeutic way of coming to terms with the fact that tiny killers come into your house the minute you let your guard down and they will take out your whole family. That doesn’t seem a valuable trade in return for them ridding you of tinier insects. Anyway, I’ll be adding those into the regular rotation here on the main page as well as maintaining them on their own page.

I have a third comic that I’ll be adding into the rotation as well, date TBD. Those will be coming up here on the main page and on their own as well. It’s just good design. When you have spider based material, you need backups. Because spiders will crawl off the page and destroy anything that shares a location with it the minute you let your guard down. They’re just that devious.

And that’s it. That’s not so bad, is it? It’s really just more of the same and I mean that in the best way possible. In the meantime, here is a comforting meme of an old white guy we can all agree is awesome to brighten your day.



Now Back to Our Show

Ok, I haven’t felt much like updating lately because my goal here at the end of the day is to be above, all other considerations, a humor site. I mean, a comic strip should be funny, right? It’s not like we’re at the New Yorker here

*disclaimer: If any of you are scouts for the New Yorker, I retract and I would be proud to appear in your fine publication


**disdisclaimer: If any of you are White Supremacists who have no use for New York intellectuals or their namby pamby sympathizers, I retract and would under no circumstances appear in that commie rag


***disdisdisclaimer: If you are white and offended that I used the phrase White Supremacist than you are free to go and read the New Yorker, The Guardian, The New York Post or any other publication more aligned with your proclivities. Or you can write and tell me why I’m wrong. Martin is not above intelligent discourse from the fan.

So…. yeah… not feeling funny and I decided to go and lift my spirits by going to see Christopher Titus, my all time favorite comedy legend. For an hour and a half I laughed until my sides hurt

Then I was back here. In the world. Where things are happening.


Things like this.

Or not happening. I’ve been told those things may be in my head. But they seem to be in a lot of friend’s heads as well. So maybe we as a nation lost our minds collectively in some sort of Jungian soup. Or maybe it’s the Matrix, Neo. Or it’s possible it’s the Economy, stupid. I know I feel malaise but I can’t pinpoint the source.


I’m not smart like this guy.


But then, I go to tie my hair up and I can hear something crinkly and I feel something papery and I know there’s something in there. Leaf? Receipt Jimmy Hoffa? I spend a good three minutes trying to comb it out before I realize I still have my wristband from the show on and the paper is rubbing the hair by my ear.


I’m also not smart like these guys.

I’m provided a moment for self deprecation, wry introspection and a moral (just because you can’t find something doesn’t mean it isn’t there and the things you find may be different than the things you sought) as well as a way through my writers block to this very blog entry.

And  when I (re)discovered that paper strip all I could hear in my head was Titus ultimate line from his 5th Annual End of the World Tour, thinking about the loonnnnng buildup to his father’s final punchline.


Funny, a**hole.


New Day

I had a whole thing I was going to write about Howard Carter and King Tut’s tomb, but it was predicated on me feeling a lot more optimistic than I feel right now. In the meantime, as a reminder that They are Plotting Against you, here’s Spi #3.