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8/24/11 4:26AM
You might notice that the only author listed is Will. While I helped him with a bit of editing and panel placement, really, this is his baby, and it’d be a crime to try to take any credit for it. That crime would be intellectual property theft, and Will would follow it with another crime: assault. Surely with a deadly weapon. As happens when left to do his own thing, the art differs from what you may be accustomed to; it’s a combination of paper cutouts and photography. Why he chose this medium may be revealed within the coming releases.
Prior to Up to my Nipples’ incipient stages, Will and I met as players on the same ultimate team. You know, that sport where people throw frisbees to dogs. One morning before a game, Will spoke of his prior night’s insomnia, and then recited by memory in a community-theater-quality British accent the story he had written to combat his sleeplessness. Most of the team applauded or was baffled by the oddity that was the poem’s retelling. I instead noted that this is someone whose many talents I should one day exploit. The story was that of the Snarly Snoot and the exploitation, well, I’ll let you figure that out.
-Jesse
Jesse, you’re holding Will back.
But yet, you can’t let him write his own blog post.
And what’s with the extraneous apostrophe, as in “Will get’s his moment in the sun.” ?
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS