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LadyAttercop

sweet nature, foul mouth
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Sorry there hasn't been much to see in the way of content 'round these parts lately.  I've decided against uploading Strange Fiction in its entirety to DA.  I'm going to keep some of the more interesting story arcs up here, but if you want to see the comic weekly, you're going to have to head over to the site: www.strangefiction.net.

Yes.  I know.  I'm a jerk.

I will, however, be uploading more sketches, more side projects, and a host of other crap.
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All the recent comics are FINALLY up on DA.

I won't promise anything closely akin to punctuality for the upcoming year.  It would be out of character, after all.

Let's hope 2009 is a better one, shall we?
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I'm not sure how I didn't notice it sooner, probably because I'm a non-sociable, misanthropic fuck of a woman, but when the hell did people start getting so eye-wateringly stupid?



This has been a tasty tidbit of What the Fuck Friday. For the rest of the article, visit the blog.
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I work in an office building with shared bathrooms, and common logic (as well as child labor laws) guarantee that all those who share the "women's restroom" with yours truly are, physically, of legal age here in the Sunshine State. For my international readers, that age is 18. When you consider that most people learn the intricacies of the water closet at 2, you wonder what the hell is wrong with people who are old enough to elect the next leader of one of the most powerful countries in the world, but can't seem to figure out how to flush a fucking toilet.

It's a frightening time we live in, isn't it?

This has been yet another installment of What the Fuck Friday. For the rest of the article, visit the blog.
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From the latest installment of What the FUCK Friday:

As Garfield (the president, not the cat) would say, "I don't DO mornings." Not at all. So, when it looked like this morning was shaping up to be a big bowl of Frosted Bullshit Flakes, I knew there was only one thing that could make it bearable: Dunkin Donuts, where $2 buys me a large caffeinated cup of extra-light, no sugar happiness. (Screw you and your $8 coffee, Starbucks.) However, feeding the monkey on my back made me witness to one of the most vile and subtle forms of child abuse that I have ever had the misfortune of viewing.

Some yuppie, leather handbag of a woman, bought her eight year old son an iced carmel late.

What. The. Fuck?

Visit the site so I don't cry myself to sleep tonight: www.strangefiction.net
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Featured

I suck. No, that's not an advertisement. by LadyAttercop, journal

DA Is Finally Updated by LadyAttercop, journal

Horror Rides on Three Wheels by LadyAttercop, journal

WtFF: An Open Letter to the Woman Who Won't Flush by LadyAttercop, journal

Parents: Just Say No to Children. by LadyAttercop, journal