I Will Go To My Grave In

Steve Dallas...a Frat-boy Lawyer Who I Knew In School. He's Never Written Me. I Suspect He Was Shot By An Annoyed Girlfriend, Which Has Saved Me Many Legal Fees.

I Could Draw Bloom County With My Nose And Pay My Cleaning Lady To Write It, And I'd Bet I Wouldn't Lose 10% Of My Papers Over The Next Twenty Years. Such Is The Nature Of Comic-strips. Once Established, Their Half-life Is Usually More Than Nuclear Waste.

He Comic Page Is Dying; I Didn't Want To Go With It.

My Kids Hear Me Behind My Door, Giggling Like An Idiot, And They Roll Their Eyes At The Blatant Indignity Of It All.

The Cartooning Was Always Just An Abstraction. It Was An Income. It Was Making Me Famous. It Was Allowing Me To Go And Do Other Things That I'd Wanted To Do.