Every Time I Tell a Joke

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Man, I wish I knew the ending to that joke.

He likes to pretend I’m not funny. But whenever I tell a good joke, he immediately calls his brother to repeat it, and then every single time we go out with anyone for the next 3 weeks, he tells it again. That’s what love is. Putting up with that.

Yesterday’s comic got a pretty good reception, tons of upvotes across various platforms, which, of course, led to a bunch of misogynistic online criticism from anonymous cretins. It’s sort of disheartening to know that they exist. Do they hide their sexism under a cloak of kindness when they move in public and only air their shame from behind the safety of the keyboard, or do they spew that acid wherever they go?

Gender-based criticism never really affected me that much, since I have never actually felt like a girl. Genderqueer dragons are immune to that nonsense. But attacking the characters in my comic is another thing! I am overwhelmed with outrage. Philistines! You know nothing. Anyway, if you think you can cut me down with words…that’s like trying to burn Superman with the light of the sun.

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