I spent much of yesterday in a blur of creativity, pounding out conversations, panel sketches, and a story skeleton for the mini-comic. My Stupid Sense isn't tingling yet. Your Sis agrees the idea may have potential, but she chided me for writing an origin story. She knows I hate origin stories. I wish the majority of comic-book films would present their character origins in a five-minute montage and get on with the story. Except Batman Begins, which was incredibly well done.
We caught a school soccer playoff game after work. Our girls won 3-1. A strong sun blasted us, and I awoke this morning feeling weak. I only had one beer with last night's fajitarittos. I know I'm not hungover. I'm sipping Gatorade to stave off nausea.
Picture of the Day
Approximately 18,000 folks posed nude in Mexico City for artist Spencer Tunick.