shark compatibility_edited-1

We just come from such different backgrounds. We belong in such different worlds. And we’re just made of such different materials.

And this concludes our inadvertent shark week triumvirate. I think. I can’t promise no more shark comics, but I don’t intend to make any more. I didn’t intend to make this many, though. Shark comics just happened. You know how it is. Someone gives you an idea about sharks, which makes you think about sharks, so then you make a polymer clay shark, meaning you have to create some kind of polymer clay shark themed art even though you’ve already done some digital shark art, after which then you remember that you also have a Lego shark, and wouldn’t it be funny if the two sharks met, and what would they say to each other, keeping in mind that the last time we saw our little polymer clay shark, he was pumping himself up and thinking about mating.

I never had Legos as a kid; my parents rejected any toy that inspired us to keep asking for more of the same toy, and obviously, you can never have enough Legos. To wit: I received the shark as a gift from a guy I dated in college, who had 20,000 of them. That’s not hyperbole. He counted them. And he brought them to college in a foot locker. Periodically he would let other people play with them, but mostly he just built increasingly elaborate castles in the dorm room we shared, none of which were ever finished because he always ran out of Legos. He was good though. He could have been one of those professional Lego artists.

Since he had multiples, the Lego shark lived in our fish tank for a year or so. When we got rid of the fish I cleaned the calcium off it and it was good as new, but I never had any other Legos to stick it on until last month, when The Man received the Google Fi holiday package, which contained a quantity of Legos and instructions for using them to build a shrine to your cell phone.

They were calling it a “phone holder,” but we built it, and I promise you it was a shrine. An altar. A monstrance, if you will.

The other side of the page offers instructions for building a “cable tidy.” We did not build the cable tidy. We may worship our phones, but I promise you, we never organize our cables.

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