Brain Constipation.

Blargh. Writing to free my thoughts out is a pain. I can see them all there huddling at the corners of my imagination, frightened like caged animals. I open the door for them. They don't move. I beckon them with food. Nope, nothing. I entice them with baby making noises. Nope, still huddled away at the corners. I don't get it. The door's open and yet they won't come out! COME OUT YOU FRIGID THOUGHTS!

I suppose what you see on the page pretty much sums up the going-ons inside my brain.

I blame it on Lazy Slugs/snails. Space Snails, Snailiens. Just staring at one of them will compell you into atrophy. It all starts with a yawn, then a little sleepy-eyed, another yawn, etc. One becomes slacked-jaw, hunched-over, brain-dead over time, and overall muscle-relaxant (is that a word?) devolving you into a slug just like themselves. Its exactly the type of desired effect that these envious Snailiens want to inflict upon their busy-bodied, ambitious spine-tingling counterparts as they go about slooooowly conquering the worlds.

They're all part of an old idea based on Captain Storm, who's MIA around here somewhere. You'll see more of these slugs in the near future (here's hoping!) as they're just so much fun to draw.