We have heard that you are looking for a job, which doesn’t surprise us since you haven’t been setting the world on fire lately. If you follow the simple guidance entailed in this form then you too can join an exciting community of obedient uniform wearers. If you don’t want to join our team you are wasting only your own time because we have automated the process to better screen the hoards of applicants the failing economy sends our way. Dutiful robots and almost equally cheap citizens of Bangalore winnow this pool to ensure that only the best and brightest will stock the shelves of your community and return carts to corrals.

I love it when I don’t actually have to think when doing one of these. This comic is courtesy of my son.

Sir, do you like $300 million? That’s what the last teenybopper vampire flick grossed stateside, so you’ve got to ask yourself: What else could rally another million moody girl march on the multiplexes? I’ve got your answer: poetry. That’s right, poetry. Can’t you just hear the susurrus of credit card swipers across the country swelling into a mighty crescendo?

Dear Jonathan, I’m a slave to fashion, and I like your beard. I’d like some tips on the latest looks and trends. ———- Well, take one look at me and know that I am not one for fashion. I’m of the “drawstring pants over flip flops look” and tend to show up at fancy restaurants

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I drew this strip a while ago without any particular convention in mind, but decided to wait until San Diego Comic-Con to actually upload it. (That’s why it’s spelled “Comicon” in the script; it was originally intended to be a catch-all comic book convention.)