Psychic Rob might be psychic, and clairvoyant, and yes, even telekinetic, but until he learns to use those powers for something people find generally useful, they’re going to be little better than parlor tricks. Beautiful, hamburger-delivering parlor tricks.

It’s been a rainy summer this year. Maybe not cold and rainy, like it is in this comic, but rainy nonetheless. And that, my friends, is kind of a bummer.

Two men sit in a booth in a dimly lit restaurant. One man is a newspaper reporter, the other is an FBI agent.

Okay, the tape’s rolling. So how did you find yourself surveilling the hotel room in Phoenix?

One of our men was meeting with a big-time American dealer. Our agent was posing as a Mexican drug baron looking to unload an enormous quantity of coke. The dealer was this dirtbag who sold to kids in the Tuscon area. We’d been trying to nab him for two years.

I can’t think of a better tattoo than a face on the back of someone’s head. I’m sure someone has done this in real life, although I haven’t seen any examples. It’s probably terrifying.

If there is one thing I love in this world, one thing it’s impossible to ruin, it is a period piece that brings together a talented cast. It’s a chance to discover the next big thing; a chance to enjoy those who have been chosen to work together because they’re at the top of their

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