I submitted my story quite some time ago, before the comic went on hiatus. She said at the time she liked it, but after she stopped updating I thought I’d never see it.
Today, though, I got the email from the update list - my childhood pain now immortalized in comic form!
Oh, thank you for this website. And your story–the one with the woodshop loser stool, I assume–sounds just like me in middle school. I’m dying over here. Now I’ve gotta dig through the cobwebs of blocked off memory for something of my own to submit.
Ha! No, I don’t look like that now, certainly. It does bear a passing resemblance - I was in 8th grade and I was convinced by my mom to get a perm on my long hair. It looked just dreadful - I remember that I nearly started to cry as soon as they started to take the rollers out. The kids started calling me “Fifi the Poodle” that year. I told the artist about that, and that I used to wear Champion sweatshirts with sweatpants and slouch socks. It’s what all the kids wore! Really!
Excuse me for being blunt, but are those supposed to be funny? I browsed through a couple of them, and they just remind me of what it was like before I started wrestling as a junior in high school. Or are they a way for people to identify with, and nod their heads saying, “yep, that’s me!*” Kind of like Dilbert, but in reverse, and not funny?
*Although I know this one is about one of us. Sorry about the situation, I know the feeling.