A day late and a dollar short? Yeah, absolutely. I can’t argue that at all. But I have some OK excuses. For one I came down with a nasty juniper allergy after a night of drinking Gin and Tonics with the once lambasted, now admired ex-Mayor of Juneau, which for those without geographical predilections is a cluster of islands just off Alaska’s southern hanging arm, famous for almost nothing, the only event of note was the wild Salmon chase of 1969 when actor Paul Newman cut open his lower lip on a jealous Cojo, an incident that would badly mar the production of Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid, which also starred Katharine Ross, a woman not at all connected to Kodiak Island or its ex-Mayor but who was the lead actress in The Graduate which I watched as a young kid and was highly impressed upon due to the sexy nature of the elder Mrs. Robinson, wowie wowie, and then for years afterwards I would attempt to impress myself onto the other members of my mother’s bridge club, a habit that would land me in the naughty zone for getting a little too handsy with Jene Howard, a real old bimbo with a heart of gold and huge, heaving honkers that I could’ve sworn were physically un-feasible until I attended Shmates College on scholarship, majoring in Physics for one heart-drum semester during which all I can remember is that yes, in fact, the breasts were feasible, and perhaps I would remember more if I didn’t spend so much time out partying with the frisbee team and my pole vaulting lover, and maybe I would remember to turn my assignments in on time if I didn’t. . . oh shit, I’ve gone on again. . . Lateness has crept up on me.. 

Either way, here’s issue #13, perhaps a day late and a dollar short but still worthy of existing. We’ll get this half-assed tardiness streak sorted out. But for now, enjoy Squid Boy and the narcs, and go easy on our ruthless critics.

– Ed.