Sunday, June 19, 2016


Dadgum it! 

Seems as it's time once again to do the right thing, man up, head on into the garage, and pop the hood on this nigh-abandoned rustbucket blog so we can get her back on the road once more! Yes sir! Gotta make the old man proud!

Besides, I've got to get this Father's Day card out, and I don't want to walk to the post office. Or anywhere.

How-do, neighbor! Hope you too remembered the faces of your fathers (sorry, been reading through Unca Stevie's "The Dark Tower" for the 19th time lately) and got your own cards and/or calls dispatched in time for this year's sire celebrations.

Unlike Mom's Day we've got no cartoon kitties for this parent's picture, as the card in question featured not a pair of cats but a singular bird -- a toucan, resplendent in a 'shopped in tie and jaunty hat, and within bore the message:

"On Father's Day, 
just wanted to give you 
a little toucan of my gratitude."

Which . . . is not terribly grammatically correct -- shouldn't that be "I just wanted"? But, more importantly, and fittingly, is also just some prime, grade A dad joke material I knew my progenitor would appreciate.

Besides, what son hasn't longed for the opportunity to give his old man the bird just once:

. . . or maybe twice?

Or -- squinting in for a closer look with our aging quatrogenarian eyes -- why not three times while we're at it?:

Well, pluck me -- so I did.

Ah, well, no worries; this is my old man we're talking about here -- the one who gifted me with the corny kernel seeds of my own sadistic sense of humor -- and I'm sure he'll accept these facetious flip-offs in the spirit in which they were given.

And so, in closing, and to quote my own inscription:

This bird's for you, Dad -- Happy Father's Day, from your firstborn featherbrain!



Wednesday, May 11, 2016


Your mother.

Your mother is so fat . . . because of the sorrow-fueled binge eating brought about by having such thoughtless, inconsiderate, neglectful children. Children who skated obliviously right past Mother's Day proper, and then, after being reminded of the holiday by overhearing the discussions of the caring, dutiful efforts made by their coworkers to acknowledge and appreciate their own more svelte and cheerful mothers, scrambled frantically to paw through the dumpsters behind their local Walgreens for any heaps of unsold-thanks-to-callous-whelps-such-as-themselves Mother's Day cards to hurriedly scribble Xs and Os into and slap a stamp upon, so that it can find its way into mom's fudge-encrusted hands half a week after the point when it made any difference.

This post is for you!

Also, your mother!

Because she deserves better -- better than a mere, single day -- doesn't she? So why not get tokens of our appreciation after that one specific day? Why not a whole week of them, even?

Of course, I didn't forget or get this year's Mom's Day card out late myself, but in keeping with this spirit of Mother's Day cele-belation, I did, after sending said card out, redraw the picture I'd made within that card -- and at full size, and in full color! -- at the behest of my bride, whom said drawing was also in honor of, not to mention inspired by, to serve as her own much deserved if after the fact Mother's Day acknowledgement:

"The Joys Of Motherhood", (c) Hyla Tracy II, 2016.

My favorite part is still my fabulous dream of no-fucks adventure -- rendered and colored in with actual crayon! -- which in this version somehow managed to look like it's not actually part of the drawing proper, but like I'd stuck a homemade puffy sticker onto it or something.

Which of course makes it even more awesome.


Also, I made a minor correction to the proportions of dream-me's torso, as the original inside-the-card drawn version made me look fat.

You know. Like somebody's mom or something.

Here's to years and years yet of wee hours squalling and paw pressure boob-bruises, my beloved madre de los gatos, and to all the other after-the-fact-if-ever appreciated mamas out there!



Sunday, May 8, 2016


Yes, once again THATGALAXYNEXTDOOR briefly rouses from its post midwinter through spring catnap just long enough to croak out a rusty meow of regard for moms here, there, and everywhere, but mostly and specifically for our own.

This year's Mother's Day card featured on its front a hulking mama cat settling a paw across the shoulders of her pudgy floofball kitten, which glances up at her as the word balloons beside her declaim:

"I'm not mad. 

I'm just disappointed.

And mad."

So! --- it's to be tooth-gritted, motherly frustration/cats for the theme of this year's allotment of matrilinear linework, eh?

Well, let's see, meow . . . What scenario could I possibly make use of to best illustrate the trials, tribulations, and disputable joys of motherhood that would somehow, in some way, be related to being driven into a smoldering fury by one's children and also to cat-

-Oh, right:

How about a piercingly pitch perfect eardrum rend-ering of the nightly/wee-hours-of-the-morning-ly ritual our cats subject my lovely wife to! Somewhat in counterpoint to their unfailing habit of using my legs and feet as hammocks every night, Harvey and Peanut take their turns crawling over me to get to their very much trying to sleep "mom", and holler at her without reprieve until she snarls, rolls over, and opens up the covers between us so they can crawl in, curl up, and get petted by her . . . for all of two to three minutes before they change their minds, pop out again, and take up residence athwart my slumbering shanks.

Thanks mom!

Or, as I related on the back of the card to my own mom:

Just a little something to let you know you aren't alone in suffering the burdens of motherhood! . . . At least, according to the stories Jen tells (personally, I have no idea what she's talking about . . .)


My favorite part was the dream I was having. So I maded it bigger:

Then I coloreded it:


And yaaay for moms, without whom there would be no good dreams to be had. Here's hoping you got to sleep in on this one, lady --- you deserve it!