In many ways, Andy Nosticia is your average college graduate. He has a menial office job, still hasn’t figured out why his company faxes anything, is severely disillusioned, drinks his wine from a coffee mug because all his other dishes are dirty, and of course, he doesn’t have his shit together.

If you’re into art (and who isn’t?), then you know all about MerMay. Winslow knows all about this very special month as well. He likes to look at beautiful fish ladies as much as the next guy, but he also knows that true art appreciation requires themed beverages.

You might think patchouli, but that’s not what I mean. I mean spicy shoes left to fumigate by the door. Acrid plastic yoga mats made in China that will take Vedic ages of rebirth to break down in a landfill. Gluten-free soy candles blessed by Peruvian shamans that cost an arm and a leg. Burned sage sitting on top of a seven-layer dip of cologne created by human bodies in motion.

This comic is based on a conversation my daughter and I had. The dialogue is transcribed word for word.

Why are you here? Strike that—you don’t have to answer that. It’s what’s called a rhetorical question, obvi. Also obvi: you came here for wisdom, for guidance, for that one little nugget of an insight which you can squirrel away and unleash upon the world in a big way. You came here with a plan, a tablet, a book rearing to go. Maybe it’s werewolves in space. Maybe it’s vampires meets Das Boot—Dracula in a Submarine. Maybe it’s Bambi-grows-up-and-commits-Bambi-patricide. Turns cannibal.