Sometimes you just want to draw characters with stormclouds for hair. And sometimes, when you do, you make a medical breakthrough. You’re welcome.

Learning German is hard. For an English speaker, it’s nearly impossible to figure out why pizza is feminine unless it is an object. “Die Pizza—feminine subject—schemeckt fine,” but, “Kann ich ein Stuck von der Pizza—masculine object—haben?” I would like to think this happens because Germans are progressive, but I know that’s not true. Part of me knows it would be easier to remember if it were the other way around—masculine things become feminine when they are objects—but I hate that part of myself.

I’m still trying to figure this one out.

Usually, I can escape unwanted situations with some degree of finesse. Other times, I am as graceful and articulate as a toddler, particularly when my mother is involved.

When my mom asked if I’d like a ten-session yoga pass for my birthday, I responded with a garbled, “Uhhh, not really, but thanks.” She interpreted this to mean “Yes, of course. I would be delighted to partake in mind-numbing torture at your fine training establishment.”

Dominion over the dead is nice, but Kurt’s really only into necromancy for the fashion.

Did your child or grandchild recently develop an interest in slime? Of course they did; it’s 2018 and playing with a stick and mud is last year’s trip.

There are five stages for dealing with slime in your life. Here’s how you can expect it to go.

We’ve got to stop naming food after kids, you guys. It’s starting to get ridiculous.

First of all, what is Alexa, and how can it help streamline my daily routine?

Alexa is a virtual assistant program that operates from a tabletop smart speaker system and responds to your spoken commands. You can ask Alexa to help you organize your music playlists, pay bills online, or even order your favorite pizza, all at the sound of your voice.

Alexa also has the ability to access and control your in-sink garbage disposal, and will wait with cold, reptilian intent until such time as you have to reach in there for a dropped spoon, or similar items.

Full confession time: This comic makes me extremely uncomfortable.

I am a lifelong liberal of good standing, with impeccable credentials. On one issue, however, I am an unabashed Goldwater conservative. If there’s one thing that raises my ancient hackles, it’s whenever I see the names Cathy and Casey defiled with a K. Why do parents of the newborn err so egregiously? Why favor the fraudulent over the authentic, particularly in matters of enduring importance?