1528 Hypercolor.


Jo wasn’t the only one who made out like a bandit. Jess just had different prizes in mind. Vintage clothing in the wild is a hot commodity if you know what you’re doing. The idle rich will pay for old shit, as well as the idiotic trendy. For Jess every box of dead people clothes there’s a hidden paycheck. Of course the full scope of her plans have yet to be divulged…

It is really hard to replicate day glo colors in manga studio. I tried my best but that’s as close as I could get. I chose those colors because she tends to go for blues and wanted to kind of set things on fire with her this time. She is at least as amused as I am about being dressed like an escapee from Clarissa explains it all.

The teen got broken up with by her distant boyfriend, which is good for her, but she isn’t in that frame of mind over it. I spent last evening indulging her sorrow, which is probably dumb. The guy in question is too much like I was at that age. the chances of him amounting to anything much are slim. It’s debatable whether(weather?) or not I did. He’s gonna play call of duty until life kicks his balls off and that will begin his long, grim, slide into mediocrity. The teen doesn’t need that in a boyfriend. She needs a go getter who can handle a level of clinginess on par with superglue. I don’t know how many of those exist, but they must be mostly saints. I have a sinking feeling she will get back with him even though he broke it off this time and all of this will have been another pointless exercise, but whatever. She’s coming to a point where she’s just going to have to make choices on her own and deal with the consequences without whatever benefit my presence allows. Hopefully at least a little of my judgmental attitude rubbed off on her so she can properly distance herself from the rabble when it matters.

Tonight she is out seeing the superbat movie, so I’m not sure how to judge her ability to make choices at this point…

I could have gone too, but I decided to stay in and work, because… I’m insane? I can’t enjoy life unless I know I’m trying to do a good job making this comic? I need to work constantly to feel even the tiniest shred of safety in my life? It’s somewhere in there I suspect.

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