Hey everyone! It’s Little Choy! And, if the number in the file name is to be believed, it’s the 50th Little Choys comic I’ve put on this website. With this milestone and the ten year’s of continuous Phone Guys earlier this month, this has been a banner year for exceedingly dumb comics on the Book of PDR.

But, of course, these fifty Little Choy comics are not nearly all of them. I drew these in textbooks and on school desks as a teenager. I drew them on random scraps of paper. Back when I doodled more regularly, this was a regular go-to for me. But now I do it so rarely, and only when I feel like I need something easy to put on this site. Honestly, I feel like fifty Little Choys is probably a good place to stop. Unless I feel compelled to do so naturally, I think I’ve got enough Choys on here to make my point.

What point is that? I dunno. I guess I think it’s funny when a person says something inane and then a weird little floating thing insults them. But those insults aren’t as randomly chosen as Choy’s victims. I’ve come to know Little Choy very well and it’s clear that Choy doesn’t insult your appearance, or your class, or anything like that. Choy only wants you to know that you are stupid and your life is meaningless. That’s what Little Choy wants you to know. That you suck.

The next day a cloud of bees descended on Sarahill Park. They were perfectly calm, avoided contact with people, but covered every surface they could. After exactly ten minutes they flew off again.

Ten more minutes passed and a woman in a long coat arrived. She asked around for witness accounts. She photographed the plants and took samples of the soil. She wrote copious notes.

Then a voice said, “October Bradshaw,” and she turned to see a young man in a beekeeping outfit. “I am a fan of your website and I believe I may have answers you would appreciate.”