Too real. Too funny. Yesterday's strip was also.

"Zits" is so spot-on that I sometimes wish we had teenagers so that we could point at the strip every day and say "see...this is YOU!"

But then I come to my senses...

I never wish I had teenagers. I figure there's a reason that kids start out cute and adorable - so you have something to remember when they hit their teens. But I love Zits (the comic...not actual zits.)

...and if the irony had been lost, you could have found it on my blog.

My wife is fond of saying things like, "Oh, come on! That's not how I said it!" Or, "I don't remember it that way at all."

I could explain that, ungilded, the neutral accounting of my life events are pretty darned dull and that my blog entries always—well, usually—have a core of truth at their chewy chocolate centers. Instead, I mutter something about "artistic license" and then sneak off to do some noisy yard work while she's Googling to see what I meant by that.

Too funny (and true).

What Foo said. I think what happens is there's a blog filter through which we process our daily life "events" in an attempt to make life more exciting/tolerable/entertaining than it really is. But there's value in that, right? It's intrinsically worthwhile. ;-)

Trust me, Eric. You do not wish you had teenagers. The irony of Zits is completely lost on them.

I never wish I had teenagers.

Beth, I was just employing a literary convention, a writer's trick, also known as "lying."

It's very similar to Foo's "artistic license," only without the chewy chocolate center.

The irony of Zits is completely lost on them.

Gwynne, tell me about it. We have some friends whose son -- in his teen years -- was Jeremy personified. He was a guitarist and later even had a girlfriend named Sarah. We would laugh until we cried at the similarities between him and Jeremy, and he would just have this blank look, as if "Zits" were written in Babylonian and the characters were as familiar to him as the Kalahari bushmen.

(And I think I strained something coming up with those similes.)

And I think I strained something coming up with those similes.

You might try some of that Capscaisin ointment. ;-)

Naw, that's Jim's thang, as I recall.

Plus, one of those similes may have actually been a metaphor, and thus requires a whole different treatment protocol.

[How deep does this hole go, anyway?]

"You'd be surprised," I cooly replied.

"You'd be surprised," I cooly replied.

Should I go for three...?;)

haha!

Janie, you have way too much energy at 11:00 p.m.! ;-)