went out to the smoke room to remind my mom that she had to pee, and my uncle scottie calls out "hey! you got a package" "thanks for noticing" I say grabbing my crotch.
I don't think I've ever gotten a book this fresh before. shrink wrapped hot off the presses. I can only compare it to a new textbook in its first semester, though not as institutional. I can't quit huffing it. I made my brother quit eating his ramen to smell it, practically shoving it up his nose. I'm still smelling it. I don't want to waste any of it. been reading "no country for old men" all day, but now I gotta read this before the smell wears off.
Here's something weird, speaking of smells (a month and a half ago, as you were). I just FINALLY got around to reading Vol. 2, and I was struck so hard by something it was the reason I registered with this site today in the first place. I was reading Vol. 2, and I was at the point where the mortar shell hit the Freakcave, and I turned the page (that's right, physically) to the splash page of all the Freakangels on the street, and I smelled the air where they were. I physically and mentally noticed a change in the smell of the air in my house, and for a second, I was right in that street with them. That is powerful storytelling. That is the perfect mesh of writer and artist. I don't know if that has ever happened to me before, my 20-plus years of reading comics. It was truly freaky, to have something visual be so powerful it affected another sense. Thanks for the experience. I am now a raving ass.