Hey kids. I know you were all crushed when there was no new panel here at 12 am last Monday, so here's a whole page by way of reparations. Don't get used to this. I know you'll go to conventions and buy Fart Party books after reading it all for free online, but that's because you're a creep and you'll take any excuse you can to talk to that cute Wertz girl. Dudes gotta work a little harder to drum up attention at those sausage fests.
This one takes us all the way back to the halcyon days of 2003. Skinny jeans were just for gutter punks, Damon Che still had a few shreds of credibility, and people remembered Andrew Bird as the violinist from the Squirrel Nut Zippers (if at all). See if you can guess the identity of my chubby male co-star in this anecdotal buddy comedy. I'm not great with likenesses, so I'll give you a hint: if you're female, live in San Francisco's Mission district and were linked here from my MySpace page, you've probably slept with him.
