tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23724540484990007372024-03-14T14:27:46.613-04:00SPAYA tragi-comic: a ferret's daily challenges with aplastic anemia, gender identity, and disability, and how she navigates her own way through society.SPAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796078156259826491noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372454048499000737.post-25490462319008363072012-02-16T13:03:00.000-05:002012-02-16T14:13:45.764-05:00#13: Stink Bug Rescue<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Alt-text:</b> An empty bed is pictured. There is a small bug walking around on the headboard. "She decided to consult the biological clock. Surely it would have useful advice about empathy and compassion; it seemed to know everything about love!" The biological clock, a heart-shaped device with a green button and red button on one side and a speaker on the other, is pictured in an empty hole with a sign pinned to it that says, "Out to Lunch.""Uh oh. It was out of the office." The stink bug is shown in a close-up view, marching toward the next frame. "All of the sudden, the stink bug took flight!" In a startling manner, the stink bug flies around over her, emitting startling electric bolts of perceived shock. She looks like she has multiple arms and is squinting her eyes shut. "She flailed her arms wildly until the stink bug landed on the floor."</div>
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The stink bug is shown really close-up, its beady red eyes looking straight at the viewer. "Though intimidating and lacking charm, the stink bug was still a person. She still didn't want to banish it to the cold outdoors, and squishing the bug was not an option." There is heart wallpaper to indicate that she is feeling empathetic. She bends over to a small bug on the floor illuminated by a spotlight. "She gently picked it up with a rag." Suddenly, she gets X-eyes, flared nostrils, and she sticks her tongue out to indicate a horrible smell. "OH...oh my! It reeked!" She runs in a loop, her legs blurring, "clutching the rag at a distance, but firmly." "Finally, she made it to the trash can." She has stepped through a door frame and throws the blue rag containing the stink bug into the lidded trash can. "The stink bug would be warm in there with lots of food. It could find a new home on the next trash day."</div>
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While this one will go down as a more <u>boring and trite</u> episode that took way too long to do considering I'd done all the drawings at the same time I did the ones from the previous episode, it will go down for me as the first time I ever used layer fx in Photoshop. Sorry, all, but I hated functions when I learned 'em in highschool. They are infinitely useful, but for Spay, they can fall on spike and die. I am probably going to ignore that crap from now on. Any time I wave that magic wand of fx, it looks like cheap comic book turd frames. Not happy with this one at all. I know, you are probably like, "Wow, it's not even that much drawing, and it kind of sucks, and she feels this strongly about it." Yes, I do. This is a comic because it is in opposition to manly-manly-man super heroes and unoriginality in storylines hidden behind stuff like fx. Next time, we go back to the original conception of the story -- to the "get laid or get spayed" plotline. Hopefully the story will get more juicy and interesting then, as our brave and lovable protagonist battles aplastic anemia and, just as much as the disease, gender-related pseudo-science and societal expectations.</div>
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<b>EDIT:</b> I didn't realize it, but the pictures have been getting a lot smaller and skinnier lately. I will find a site where I can upload them in full quality or I will split them up from now on! That is why this one looks a bit weird.</div>SPAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796078156259826491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372454048499000737.post-76215244307380008462012-02-09T18:16:00.001-05:002012-02-09T18:16:32.680-05:00#12: Circus of Smells<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Alt-text: "</b>It was a circus of smells out there," written beneath a circus banner. "Some of them were pretty noxious. Pee-yew!" She holds her mouth with bulging red, irritated eyes as big cloud of yellow smoke enters through an open window, emitted from a ferret holding a cigarette and exhaling. A frying pan sits on a stove with bits of brown pieces in it. "She was not a good cook... (she did not make fires, but sometimes she burned stuff)." In the next frame, she bends over and smells herself, thinking about some chips. "Some 'bad smells' she considered to be good smells. One of her favorite smells was herself! Ah, the comforting smell of corn chips (this was what she smelled most like.) She gave herself a hug." She is shown hugging herself, with blushing cheeks. "(Factoid: most ferrets smell like corn chips.)"</div>
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"But there was a new smell worse than any previous smell...that of the marmorated stink bug." She looks cautiously from her place seated at a computer where she is using Photoshop. The object of her attention is magnified to show three beetles in the crack of a window at dusk. "They sneaked into her room when it got too cold. When it was warm, they would live in her window. She didn't want them there, but she felt empathy toward them." It is noted that "they did make her nervous..."</div>
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A stink bug crawls around the last frame, anticipating the next episode! To be continued...</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Author's note:</span></div>
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Marmorated stink bugs are terribly stinky. As much as I hate them, I'd hate even more to squish them because they will stink you out of a house and home. I first met them in late summer of 2010 when they would stalk me on my way home and wait on the porch for me to open my door and step into my apartment. Their sneakiness is admirable!</div>SPAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796078156259826491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372454048499000737.post-5048844339392391782012-01-31T20:51:00.000-05:002012-01-31T20:51:44.976-05:00Animation 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a name='more'></a><b>Alt-text:</b> She is running with a sword toward a tall tower in the night time. "She liked video games sometimes (especially games with castles and ghosts and inventories)." She is playing a hand-held video game, laying on a pillow under the covers of her bed. "She played a game before she went to sleep. It calmed her down." The screen is displayed, and shows a ghost next to her character who is holding a sword. There are three options: beat ghost with sword; use magic; and flee. "She usually beat ghosts with a sword." In the next frame, she looks very pleasantly surprised. "One day, something new happened! That day, she had walked past someone with a game, and they had become friends! Hooray! Finally!" The game system says, "You made a friend!" Two stick-person ferrets pose together with swords. Then, a squiggly line dividing the frame indicates a sudden break in the narrative. The next frame shows the other stick-person ferret, but now he has a text bubble next to him that says, "Lenk says: big ole titties." Her eyes bug out and her nostrils flare like she smelled something bad. Later, after she has put the game away, she lays down to go to sleep on her pillow. "Who had she passed that day? She avoided certain systems because of ferrets like this. She thought it would be different."<br /><br />
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True story.</div>SPAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796078156259826491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372454048499000737.post-80513366896667126592012-01-20T00:00:00.000-05:002012-01-20T00:00:02.444-05:00#10: Invisible Aquarium<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj37k_675HgGLoYuGuapGK5E5ppzIvHSxT11Cr9fJugR5rntLRSLgb4t9DMzJ9jGAA_yg26iAWCqAJo2c3x1Q6QFRcmX2GvU-R2pg2JJUIUc52uX9anaR4Oj3dkwTmr-5xe7_GoKHAj0Mgi/s1600/Spay-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj37k_675HgGLoYuGuapGK5E5ppzIvHSxT11Cr9fJugR5rntLRSLgb4t9DMzJ9jGAA_yg26iAWCqAJo2c3x1Q6QFRcmX2GvU-R2pg2JJUIUc52uX9anaR4Oj3dkwTmr-5xe7_GoKHAj0Mgi/s1600/Spay-10.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a name='more'></a><b>Alt-text:</b> (To be added)<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dedicated to <a href="http://echidneofthesnakes.blogspot.com/2011_08_28_archive.html#1151375650111672829" target="_blank">Echidne, Snake Goddess</a>.</span></div>SPAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796078156259826491noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372454048499000737.post-64474382300841977782012-01-15T21:29:00.000-05:002012-01-16T10:45:39.535-05:00#09: Pills<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Alt-text:</b> She sits, troubled, ears back, in front of a large photo of a smoggy, grey town. The town has several landmarks: a sports stadium, a post office, and buildings labeled "Loan," "$," Flars," "Beer," "Rx," and "Fud." There are some USA flags on some buildings and in the parking lot of "Fud." In the background, there are buildings with crosses on them that go on for miles. In the foreground there is a window with smoke coming out of it and a building with male genitals drawn on the roof. In the immediate foreground is a cracked, poorly maintained sidewalk with grass growing in between the pavement and a wall against it that has been graffitied, "We're all gonna die."</div>
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"She lived in a very grey city. It wasn't a healthy place to live. There was a lot of hatred and not much money. She kept to herself most of the time."</div>
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She is shown popping some pills into her gaping mouth from an orange bottle. There are five colorful pills enlarged to illustrate. "She took medicine to cope with the hatred and the poor air quality. She also took fish oil, a multivitamin, and her pills for her cramps so she wouldn't barf. Some people took the pills to avoid pregnancy, too." A rectangular pack of pills is illustrated; "She take one a day. Same time," is written as the prescription.</div>
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"And yet other people with the problem of 'magical thinking' (there were a lot of these people in Weaselton) thought she was 'killing babies' by taking these pills."</div>
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There is a photograph of a turquoise car parked between two white lines in a parking lot. The car has a license plate with a cartoon uterus and ovaries drawn on it and "LIFE" written right beside of the cartoon. "They liked to drive cars with plates that showed they hated people like her."</div>
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She is shown livid and bright-red, with eyes squinted from anger and her hands on her hips (as well as her tiny arms can do). She is standing in front of greyed-out protesters with signs that have big red slash lines through a circle to indicate being against something. "Every time she would go to her doctor to get the pills, angry people would shout at her and beg her to 'keep the baby.' (This was supposed to be their magic trick.) As she walked past them, her face would turn hot from humiliation and sincere anger. The magical thinkers were everywhere! Their magic wouldn't work on her; she hated cramps too much."</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This comic is dedicated to everyone who is currently fighting the tide of anti-choice bigots and others who want to deny access to abortion and other forms of birth control. If you think they have stopped at abortion, you're mistaken; now the loudest voices in our political sphere have seemingly forgotten Griswold v. Connecticut and Eisenstadt v. Baird and are saying they would be up for (enthusiastically so!) making contraception's legality and availability a state-by-state issue.</span></div>
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(For readers who are still on the fence about the ethics of abortion but aren't totally anti-science, you may be interested in <a href="http://boingboing.net/2012/01/03/cells.html#more-136905" target="_blank">this article on Boingboing</a> that casually discusses studies about cell-sharing between a mother and a fetus (Jan 3, 2012). Don't be afraid to be in the grey...)<br />
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(Edited for a really silly typo on Jan 16, 2012) </div>SPAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796078156259826491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372454048499000737.post-27086141773193289272011-10-02T20:36:00.000-04:002012-01-17T11:12:33.841-05:00#08: The Job<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Alt-text:</b> "She clocked in at 8 AM. Her job was to open as many envelopes as ferretly possible and document them. It was her highest paying job to date. She liked it OK. She got to use a computer." She is shown in a drab office with shelves of long boxes labeled "US Postal Service." The boxes are filled with envelopes. She is sitting in front of a keyboard and mouse. In the next two frames, she is wearing down and getting more squinty and tired -- even drooling from the corner of her mouth. "Uf. Only 11. This would be a long day. She needed some sustenance." She is shown holding a lollipop in front of her mouth that is wide open as she leans back in her chair to savor the blue lollipop. "A brief analysis told her she was lacking nutrients that could be found in a lollipop. The lollipop weirded her out. She needed to counteract the sugar." Her eyes bulge out and so she puts on some headphones. She scrolls to a track called "I Whip My Tail.mp3." "I whip my tail back and forth, I whip my tail back and forth..." She jumps out of her chair and begins whipping her tail so hard her ears even move from the motion. "The music caused her to whip her tail back and forth furiously! She felt great!" The frame descends into a thought cloud -- this has been a daydream all along. She is propping her head up on her hand with her elbow on a desk as though she is thinking hard. A lollipop stick is coming out of her mouth. Her ears droop. "That was when she had a job. It was hard to find a job now."</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Author's Note:</b></span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This one is for Willow Smith, US Postal Service workers</span><span style="font-size: large;">, the unemployed, and the sugar-deprived.</span> </div>
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My ferret has had to go up on his meds for managing his hypoglycemia (insulinoma) so it's been meh over here. I am not happy with this one and will probably use the tail-whipping again. I whip my tail several times a week, or at least sing about it in the shower in my ferret's "voice," so this one is sort of close to my heart. Wish I could have captured that better.</div>SPAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796078156259826491noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372454048499000737.post-67942513813547129902011-09-21T02:37:00.000-04:002012-01-17T11:12:04.901-05:00#07: The Cup<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieCMtJc-zKEfQLiDZPFr8DPO0VvZnOc8iwsHJHCOMvarIMnJEukLEXf9856i5jYAHkfXP52UujIv6nLtKAMJMVNZmsjYGxZLH0EfTOPcz4NAS2Wkn7Jsp2iy4DekYy0C7r3q1l2K-Q-JZU/s1600/Spay-07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieCMtJc-zKEfQLiDZPFr8DPO0VvZnOc8iwsHJHCOMvarIMnJEukLEXf9856i5jYAHkfXP52UujIv6nLtKAMJMVNZmsjYGxZLH0EfTOPcz4NAS2Wkn7Jsp2iy4DekYy0C7r3q1l2K-Q-JZU/s1600/Spay-07.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a name='more'></a><b>Alt-text: </b>She is waiting just as she was at the end of the last episode, sitting in front of her package. She waits a long time. Suddenly, she lifts her forefinger and opens her mouth wide. "Aha! Suddenly she remembered what could be in the package." She rips open the brown cardboard box with her teeth and dumps the contents onto the table she is sitting in front of. A menstrual cup falls out and she tosses the cardboard box over her shoulder with a wide grin and her fist clenched in anticipation. She smooshes the cup in the middle with her index fingers to test its rigidity. "With great excitement, she sat the cup in the light to inspect and admire the great care that went into producing it. She was delighted. This was a present to herself. She would never have to worry about her period again. The scene cuts to her with a big bottle-brush tail, excited and tossing the cup over her shoulder, chasing it, sitting with it dangling from one canine tooth, and tossing it into the air happily while she weasel-dances. "What fun it was! The silicone form bounced and bobbed, and she leapt for it with great joy. It was even chewy. She was cured!" She then "needed to take a break and calm down;" she is shown smooshed flat on the wooden floor of her home in pancake-weasel position (this is what ferrets do when they get too excited and have to rest). She meditates on the cup right in front of her nose while she is resting.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Author's Note</b> </span><br />
It is almost 3am and I am really tired. Not completely happy with this one but pretty happy. I will post some reference material for anyone interested in menstrual cups who has been hesitant to try them. Sadly, they do not cure PMS or cramps or periods...however, if you are a ferret, they could be really fun. I don't know because I am not a ferret.</div>SPAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796078156259826491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372454048499000737.post-23029335657564861072011-09-19T01:25:00.001-04:002012-01-17T11:11:29.146-05:00#06: Trash Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivCtorGMR2DA_IUHEIHjOX7CYamnlAh4Pjl2rMKhobJUBKX5euiuyzcHs-jWAPcHe11xgBJJwicZSLh30jjjbRhOn_yL0lU3AjiyMBwb4Uyd4hsWv_mNVYHI_mDKHiHkXpspbali8k6s-V/s1600/Spay-06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivCtorGMR2DA_IUHEIHjOX7CYamnlAh4Pjl2rMKhobJUBKX5euiuyzcHs-jWAPcHe11xgBJJwicZSLh30jjjbRhOn_yL0lU3AjiyMBwb4Uyd4hsWv_mNVYHI_mDKHiHkXpspbali8k6s-V/s1600/Spay-06.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b>Alt-text:</b> She is exiting her house doorway with a big garbage bag that is leaking a red fluid from a hole somewhere in it. There is heavy rain and through the doorway, her sidewalk, trashcan, and mailbox are visible. "It was that time of month, and that day of the week. It was time to take out the trash. It always rained on Trash Day. She wore her red rain boots." A cloud rains down on her as she lifts the lid of a trash can and a noxious yellow odor seeps out. She throws the bag into the can, and walks away to her mailbox. She has very short arms, so she reaches in all the way to her armpit -- she is really stretching and her tongue is sticking out to indicate her concentrated effort. "She decided to check the mail while she was outside. She never got anything, but today was different. A package had arrived." The next cell shows her sitting at a tiny table with a labeled and stamped brown box on top of it. She is twiddling her thumbs anxiously. "How curious! Who had sent her a package? She worried. What if it was an explosive device? Or worse -- a malevolent type of airborne bacteria? She decided it was best to wait until tomorrow to open it."</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Author's note</b></span><br />
<b> </b>I have been working on the comic after this one and forgot I had to do today's to segue into tomorrow's! Ahhh! This one is late, so I will try to finish the next one by tomorrow night. As a side note, she got the package before our postal service shut down, if that gives any sense of historical setting. :P</div>SPAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796078156259826491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372454048499000737.post-48337658107727258812011-09-13T23:59:00.000-04:002012-01-17T11:10:50.802-05:00#05: PMS #1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihS7jBYGQOZpk8BQ3kuDA3RxWUG9KPj98zaWbY0UWbUyqqXN5d8MscxLjgfzlYkZsldGonRRB5VMXbX7NF5Bc2zlmSLrcFSfJpxvUNCEvx0Culkgb3fmDadNxuN5rwLdxKn-Bu1-FXXQUJ/s1600/Spay-05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihS7jBYGQOZpk8BQ3kuDA3RxWUG9KPj98zaWbY0UWbUyqqXN5d8MscxLjgfzlYkZsldGonRRB5VMXbX7NF5Bc2zlmSLrcFSfJpxvUNCEvx0Culkgb3fmDadNxuN5rwLdxKn-Bu1-FXXQUJ/s1600/Spay-05.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b>Alt-text:</b> "For five days, she had constant dizziness, fear, nightmares, and troubles." The ferret is pictured laying down on a fabric over a mattress with her sketchbook laying out beside her. She is looking dreadful with her arms outstretched, exhausted. "If anyone in the world had ever loved her, she had forgotten or blocked it out. They had all lied to make her feel better. It was a terrible trick, she thought." "She could not even draw. She drew a cloud, and that was all." There is a cloud drawn in her sketchbook with a pen laying on the open page. "Everyone looked so happy and partnered on their social media pages. Everyone was getting a job or getting married. She was worthless." After five days, her period starts, which is depicted in a new cell. "Ughf. She didn't feel good at all." She looks nearly the same, but with a tampon string hanging out of her rear and she is wincing. "It was something called PMS. She would go crazy. It was because of hormones from that mysterious organ. It did not make her feelings any less real." Here there is an asterisk: "A tampon would not relieve the suffering. Nor would a menstrual cup (although they are cool, she thought)." "She suffered from her jealousy. She was too disgusting to be around others. She didn't want to use that organ to explain her feelings. She didn't want people to know how deeply she felt about every detail of her history of socialization..."</div>
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Sorry for the delay in pix. I was sewing some things, I am trying to find a job, I have had chronic dizziness for five days straight, fart.</div>SPAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796078156259826491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372454048499000737.post-90505544115853903632011-09-06T20:59:00.000-04:002012-01-17T11:10:03.674-05:00#04: A Discreet Encounter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigLFMdCSUk6yYok7lYOq5ljCLcgxZ3QSlZbk2njbyN2J3QTyxwcxhyDGRsfEoXefUVP5_qPJWHhDfyWkRpGVo1RGGHsXGMZ8uXNF3mK5HnSphZyx6EB9d1ERu_3f2Qzk0YcWniWCv_cmjK/s1600/Spay-04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigLFMdCSUk6yYok7lYOq5ljCLcgxZ3QSlZbk2njbyN2J3QTyxwcxhyDGRsfEoXefUVP5_qPJWHhDfyWkRpGVo1RGGHsXGMZ8uXNF3mK5HnSphZyx6EB9d1ERu_3f2Qzk0YcWniWCv_cmjK/s1600/Spay-04.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Alt-text:</b> A computer monitor displays a Craigslist ad for M4W - 25. The title is "Date night!" "Seeking 18-25 year old for a discreet encounter. About me: I am a small woodland creature about five inches high with a love for cuddling and petting. I would like to keep it discreet. I love women of all types! Please, if you would like to meet up, meet me in the alleyway at 10 pm tonight." A thought bubble says, "She found an ad on Craigslist. They wanted a "discreet encounter." They sounded nice enough." There is a transition frame that says, "Several hours later..." She peeks around the corner of the wall. "I will have to wait until the coast is clear," she thought. She waited for clearance. In the next frame, she peeks around the corner grabbing her tail. She double-checks with her big nose around the edge of the wall. Then, "Run!" She runs very fast so that her legs have multiplied and she is making a huge blur behind her. "Fewf! She made it. Though uncertain what she would find on Craigslist, it had been worth the trouble to get a hug from her favorite stuffie." She is sitting in a spotlight with a small mole stuffed animal. She is clutching him tightly and giving him a hug. "She savored the warmth of his fluff and his cute pink nose. She said bye bye and went back home by herself."</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnRSsAfUduzMDRdS7U3MEaujgKUW_JCiTuKB381i8AYPcad4hiSCKpsUNMu3z5GEkxNoEEKMdCYE4w9lDbupOFEeBhH4lyYYa3bRZsyr3e8h9GAY2dwZ_Z96vhtOrrFhwfKTKmw5UNBZc4/s1600/Spay-03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnRSsAfUduzMDRdS7U3MEaujgKUW_JCiTuKB381i8AYPcad4hiSCKpsUNMu3z5GEkxNoEEKMdCYE4w9lDbupOFEeBhH4lyYYa3bRZsyr3e8h9GAY2dwZ_Z96vhtOrrFhwfKTKmw5UNBZc4/s1600/Spay-03.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Alt-text:</b> "That night, she was awakened by a terrible ringing..." While sleeping in her four-post bed, she hears a "BRING BRING BRING" encircling her. She clutches her blankets. She looks up from her position on the yellow mattress, trying to make out the sound. Suddenly, there appears a heart-shaped device with a clock in it and two buttons (green and red) and a speaker. It says, in Don Corleone's voice, "Ey. EY! You! Wake up! It's ya biological clock. You don't have much time. The clock is ticking." She knew what the clock would say. She didn't want to hear it. The clock tells her, "You got two options: get laid or get--" It is interrupted by a harsh screech. We get a glimpse into her tooth-lined mouth while she is angrily screeching with nostrils flaring. "And with a screech, the clock disappeared."</span></div>SPAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796078156259826491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372454048499000737.post-53036678819371184352011-09-04T11:06:00.001-04:002011-09-04T11:06:24.898-04:00A brief delayThe Triple F Farms, Inc. abuse case has had me tied up for a couple days writing letters and generally being very upset. The next comic will be scheduled to post at midnight. :3SPAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796078156259826491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372454048499000737.post-67768334070045867952011-09-02T12:05:00.000-04:002012-01-17T11:08:59.294-05:00#02: Time Was Running Out<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRvzVM0LHfY4nJrRqSc_iFfzVUuYtibZYKhUuj9M8E1hqzoKs6rqKl7pAE1it_lVg-x_mKjnC2rvyOzfQJJs09QtAytz-EFGbcnFhVQj9DtuNazUg3YlkCYTTq-t44BzXsWm1KfwpfTp8d/s1600/Spay-02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRvzVM0LHfY4nJrRqSc_iFfzVUuYtibZYKhUuj9M8E1hqzoKs6rqKl7pAE1it_lVg-x_mKjnC2rvyOzfQJJs09QtAytz-EFGbcnFhVQj9DtuNazUg3YlkCYTTq-t44BzXsWm1KfwpfTp8d/s1600/Spay-02.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Alt-text</b></span><span style="font-size: small;"><b>:</b> A young ferret is worrying. "Ever since she was a young ferret, she had been told of an evil organ in her body." She dresses up in a bow-tie and a belt with a Texas belt buckle and two holstered guns, cowboy-style. "It couldn't be fixed by accessorizing." She "poofs" a huge cloud of spray from her anal glands. "Nor would poofing eliminate the threat." "She had two options: Get Laid or Get Spayed." She is shown with her soul-mate, who is identical to her in appearance. "But she had not met her soul-mate as she had anticipated." A heart device with a clock in it indicates, "Time was running out."</span></div>SPAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796078156259826491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372454048499000737.post-15789822689426457682011-08-31T02:59:00.000-04:002012-01-17T11:08:17.626-05:00#01: Aplastic Anemia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFfALbGSg9erVGh7HGVY2u13Qf7FvMGEINQYavceygNREKKnffZiRdQrZtFv7afgDzzDcJZYQIPvmmTZuuPZXn7P9RfYXTgPl6yBdND9hovO_XGN9gieYuZIgQf5lVil-O9OQ6dWAJTPZX/s1600/spay_01.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFfALbGSg9erVGh7HGVY2u13Qf7FvMGEINQYavceygNREKKnffZiRdQrZtFv7afgDzzDcJZYQIPvmmTZuuPZXn7P9RfYXTgPl6yBdND9hovO_XGN9gieYuZIgQf5lVil-O9OQ6dWAJTPZX/s1600/spay_01.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Alt-text:</b> A lonely ferret holds a yellow balloon resembling a uterus and ovaries. She holds one hand to her side helplessly. Throughout the image, she is seen walking toward the horizon with her balloon, climbing over a brick wall, and finally, letting the balloon go. It floats away. Captions: "Ferret disease: non-infectious: Aplastic Anemia. Common cause of death among unspayed females. The result of a condition caused by high levels of estrogen which in turn suppresses the production of red and white blood cells. Symptoms: Depression, loss of appetite, hair loss, hemorrhages beneath the skin. Death occurs from severe anemia, bleeding, and secondary bacterial infections."</span>SPAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796078156259826491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372454048499000737.post-67627509354212640012011-08-30T12:26:00.000-04:002012-01-17T11:07:12.009-05:00An Introduction<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Hello, and welcome to SPAY.</b></span><br />
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SPAY is a webcomic about a ferret who must navigate her way through societal expectations while coping with aplastic anemia, which requires that she either <b>"get laid or get spayed."</b> In a world of few options, her gender identity, sex, hidden disability, and general quirkiness provide her with plenty of challenges.<br />
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First conceived in 2006, She is happy to finally have a place on the Internet to call home.<br />
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The events in SPAY are inspired by lived and observed experiences of a female human, but the protagonist is also a homage to the creator's ferret, b. October, 2005. It took six months for his roommate and the creator of SPAY to realize that he was deaf, thanks largely to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gVMVsOAG5ng">this Youtube video</a> by <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/Ferretocious">Ferretocious</a>. His disability led SPAY's creator to have a more intimate understanding (whereas before this, her understanding was seriously poor!) of the difficulties humans and other animals experience in places where special needs are not accommodated; however, unlike the ferret who inspired the comic, the protagonist in SPAY is on the Autism spectrum and has extra-acute hearing.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">P</span><span style="font-size: large;">LANS AND PROTOCOL</span></b><br />
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A new comic is due to appear once to two times a week, at the moment (updated January 17, 2012). This is subject to change!<br />
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Occasionally, information will be posted for those with ferrets in their care; links to important resources about ferrets, ferret interest groups, and ferret shelters will be available at some point in the future.<br />
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<b>Questions, concerns, blog links, suggestions, and tips</b> would be appreciated (<a href="mailto:spay.comic@gmail.com">by email</a> -- please include "SPAY" somewhere in the title so that it will not be blocked as spam!). Ideas to help enrich the content of this comic are always appreciated. :) Criticism or suggestions are hugely appreciated as well. Links to blogs about disability, feminism, womanism, GLBTQI issues, asexuality, atheism and religious tolerance, political issues, animal rights/conditions/behavior, ferrets, art, poetry, music/noise/performance, independent publications, and anything along those lines would also make for a nice link exchange. If there is a story that seems appropriate to incorporate into SPAY, or you have an idea for how to make SPAY more user-friendly, send it this way!<br />
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If you are interested in collaborating or have questions about the use of images or text of this comic, please e-mail to the above link.<br />
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<b>So far, there isn't any SPAY merch... <i>any requests?</i> ;)</b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>ABOUT THE AUTHOR</b></span><br />
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The author of SPAY chooses to remain anonymous outside of her immediate friends.<br />
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(Last Update: January 17, 2012)SPAYhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06796078156259826491noreply@blogger.com