Wait. Let me explain.

Usually, the three-panel goodness that occupies the space above these words is like oil; refined, well packaged and incredibly sought-after. But the refining process, whereby it is converted from its crude form (the way it spews forth from our mind-fields) into the finished product, is a lengthy and dangerous one in which wives are widowed and doves cry.

I promise you, dear reader, that this is the last of the "Holidays and Deadlines" comics, so instead of pure Texas Tea next Thursday you will be treated to oily goodness so pure that you'll think it came straight from a teenager's forehead.

That's... hang on, let me check. Yes. That is the single grossest thing I've ever written, and I'm duly considering hari-kari to recompense.

I'm not writing a long post today, and I have a lengthy list of excuses on deck and ready to be dispensed. But I'm not going to insult your intelligence any more than today's strip already does. I'm not writing a long post because I've been:

It feels so good to tell the truth.

We're using a new comment system, the Intense Debate one to be exact. I can't speak for anyone else, but I feel that the level of debate has been duly intensified. Feel free to join in.