For years now, Clover has used her litterbox for it’s intended purpose. I didn’t have to train her to go there – her previous owner, who had her for the first 8 months of her life – had managed to teach her that much, at least. However, in the past few months, Clover has decided that her litterbox is suddenly and magically a wonderful spa!! She takes thrice-daily rolls in the clay desert, seemingly loving every moment of it. (She does not, however, love the increase in baths that her new hobby has earned her.)

I suspect that she’s got dry skin that I just simply can’t see, and is trying to scratch herself using her litter. Hopefully, the dry skin treatments I’ve managed to find online will help clear that up, and I won’t need to worry about picking little brown lumps out from her quills any longer…

Hedgehogs. They are filthy beasts.

Iguanodon, named for their iguana-like teeth, should really have been called Thumbsupasaurus. Many illustrations of the Iguanodon show them standing around in the swamp, a vacant, cow-like expression on their face, and their arms held stiffly out before them with their thumb-spikes pointed to the skies. They look like the eternal yes-men of the Jurassic/early-to-late-Cretaceous.

“Hey, what’s up Iguanodon?”

“Not much, man! Take it easy!” *thumbs up*

This joke, I think, would have been funnier had Layne taken Art History alongside me. I certainly though it was HI-larious, but if you’ve never heard of the famous Baroque painter, Peter Paul Rubens, it’s substantially less funny. (Though, he did think I was making a Dangeresque reference, which is equally as geeky and obscure.)

Food puns. This is not the worst of them, nor, I fear, the last of them…

Also, reubens made with cheddar instead of swiss are quite good, despite what the sandwich purists say!

If you have seen the music video for “Weapon of Choice” by Fatboy Slim, then you know exactly what I’m talking about.  If you haven’t, I imagine that I sound entirely mad. Also, you’re missing out on one of the best videos of all time. I mean, it has flying Christopher Walken, what more do you need?!?!?

Random interjections like this are frequent when I’m doodling. Not so when I’m drawing, since that takes a little bit more brain power and I usually draw in silence, but there’s something about doodling that makes random thoughts pop into my head and demand to be said, no matter how odd they are.

Anyway. Without further ado, here’s the video I was referencing. Try to listen to it without dancing, I dare you.



Hey guys!!

We have returned!! Moosehead Stew kind of got derailed early in the year, when I accepted a job offer that took me to Saskatchewan for several months. It was all I could do to keep Weregeek updated, so sadly, MHS had to go on hiatus until I had time to do more than work, work, work and catch whatever sleep I could manage. Then, once that contract was up, I went headfirst into convention season and spent the summer flying all across Canada and the US.

Now that Winter Is Coming, however, I finally have the time to catch up on my buffer for BOTH comics. And that means that MHS is finally, finally updating regularly again! YAAAAAY!

Clover is a wierdo.

I’m sure I’ve  said this before, but she keeps coming up with new and surprising ways of reiterating this to me. She is strangely obsessed with my hairbrush and bra straps. She loves elastics and bubble wrap, and will occasional forget she’s a hedgehog and run towards loud noises and bright lights. And, to top it all off, she is the only claustrophobic burrowing animal I’ve ever known.

She also occasionally decides to go on a rampage and trash everything in sight. If she was tiny, like Hazel, this would amount to a knocked over water dish or a slightly disheveled pile of toys. But Clover is built like a badger, and when she goes into hedgehog tank mode, she is capable of some serious destruction. Toys get mauled, her exercise wheel gets knocked over, and her pen looks like a tiny, furious whirlwind has just swept through it!

I still have no idea what triggers her rampages. Hazel’s pretty predictable – getting a bath or having her nails trimmed will cause her to rampage. But Clover? Maybe she heard a funny noise. Maybe her blankets got stuck on her quills and she got scared. Or maybe she just needs to trash things every once in a while.

Either way, she’s a strange one.

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