The world needs this blog...

A lot has happened in the world since my last post. The one lady stopped running for president (better luck next year!) Somebody won Top Chef or something (a different lady?) Also it seems like everybody's got a mobile phone now!

Anyway, I thought I'd get back in the saddle, so to speak, and talk about something that actually matters to you: my comic strip.

In this post I'd like to answer a question that is frequently asked by No-Town readers.

Q: I just read Beetle Bailey today and there were only 29 words. How come your comic strip has so many more?

A: You could say that Beetle Bailey displays an economy of words. No-Town is like a bigger, stronger economy. No-Town is China and Beetle Bailey is Nauru [Note: I don't mean to imply anything about the actual monetary value of either strip. Beetle Bailey has allowed Mort Walker to live in a flying castle and bathe in human blood every day of his life since 1950.]

Let me put it another way: there was once a man who used a lot of words. He used them to captivate, illuminate and make the world laugh (and yes, learn.)

That man's name? William Shakespeare.

Did you think I meant me? Oh, wow. That's really flattering.

But you see what I'm saying about words? They're a pretty big deal.

Well, that's it for now. Time for me to hitch the WaveRunner to the back of the Grand Cherokee (on a trailer of course!) and drive up to Indian Lake for a full weekend of bow-fishing. Two days of Three Dog Night on the radio (it attracts fish!) a brew in my hand (warm, domestic) and a smile on my face (scarlet from an elevated blood alcohol content.)

God bless.

It's me, snitches...

Indeed, you may have already felt it. There could be a little extra bounce in your step. Maybe you've noticed that the fall colors seem just a shade brighter this year. Perhaps your Tasti-D-Lite frozen yogurt tastes a little sweeter (and a little less like burned Silly String!) Or maybe, just maybe, you met the love of your life and you got married and you're both rich!

No need to worry, friends, there is a scientific explanation: No-Town is back!

Yes, I know it's been a while. Maybe a few of you thought ol' Tom had disappeared. That he wasn't the "real deal." That he had let you down (just like all the others.)

Well, I'd just like to set the record straight: I'll always be there for you. I just knew you needed the time and the space to figure out how to fly on your own. The hardest part is letting go. You'll understand one day. I promise.

Indeed, I am also happy to report that No-Town will now be appearing in the New York Press. This paper is available free throughout the five boroughs of New York City. New York City is classified as an "Alpha World City" due to its incredible international influence on politics, culture, industry and communication. I can only hope that No-Town's publication will help good ol' Gotham keep the "one spot" on the world cities index (Suck it, Frankfurt.)

And now, because so many of you wrote in and demanded it, I leave you with this:

Top 10 Irish Surnames That Sound Like They Could Be Italian Surnames

1. Costello
2. Malone
3. Farrelly
4. Don't know.
5. Don't know.
6. Don't know.
7. Connolly sort of sounds like "cannoli." Cannoli is the Italian word for clown!
8. Don't know.
9. Don't know.
10. Sullivanetti

It's good to be back.

I'm at the family home in New Hampshire (a timber-for-timber replica of a 10th century Viking longhouse!) My wife Susan and our kids Caleb, Micah and Titian and are nestled in their beds (Don't tell, but I got them all pottery wheels and some pretty smart-looking No Fear gear!). Cider is mulling over the seydis or central fire pit. The stockings are stuffed with Chinese yo-yos and jerky. Even Bluto, our mixed-breed Welsh corgie/lahsa apso is asleep in the foyer (Dreaming of not having fatty cists all over his abdomen?) The scene is just so perfect, I'm expecting Old Father Christmas to come rapping at the door any second, to bid us a "joyeux Noel" and then beg for hobnails.

As this is my vacation, there will be no new comic today.

I know what you're all thinking: Christmas has been ruined!

But here's what you're forgetting: the good cheer, the gifts, the food, and spending time with your own families! Christmas is bigger than No-Town. It's the one day a year when we actually take the time to show each other how much we care!

And for all you non-Christians, Christmas is a day when you can take the time to... you know, watch 20 episodes Nash Bridges on Spike TV and then eat a pot pie, alone. Becuase you don't have to work. But it might be nice if you did, because it sucks that nothing is open, today.

My point is this: I give to you 364 days a year. Maybe you can give me this one?

Thank you.

In the immortal words of one J. Christ (I think he's got a birthday this time of year!), "Sweat not those things which are small; for all things under heaven are small."

Merry Christmas!

Hey gang! As the creator of a popular web site, you may assume that old Tom is rolling in dough.

I appreciate the assumption, because it means you value my work. But I'm afraid it's not so. I mean, I do alright (I live in a split-level, 3-bedroom ranch house and drive a 2003 Toyota 4Runner). But even still, certain reasonable amenities lay beyond my current means: an above-ground swimming pool, getting my kids out of public school, a skeet launcher etc.

This why I've decided to begin discreet product placement in No-Town comics.

"Say what? Product placement? Tom, have you sold out to 'The Man'?"

Absolutely not. I hate "The Man" and his stupid "fiscal security" and "non-desperate living" as much as any of you! But I'm confident that the integrity of No-Town will not suffer in any way from this new venture.

You see, each placement will be an organic outgrowth of the pure artistic vision that compells me create each comic. Say "The Mayor" becomes massively incontinent (because it was necessary). Why, he'd almost certainly have to resort to wearing adult diapers, wouldn't he? And as long as a character is wearing adult diapers, we may as well not kid ourselves. Everyone knows Depends is the Rolls Royce of adult diapers!

And if I use that exact phrase, there's a chance Rolls Royce will cut me a check too!

You see, people, I do this because I love to make you laugh. And maybe one day I will be able to live in a house made of your laughter and eat your laughter for dinner and wear your laughter on my back.

But in the meantime, these skeet aren't going to launch themselves (I mean, you can throw them but that's very low-class).

The comic is late, but will be up soon!

May the gods forgive me...

Okay. Maybe it's all time we stop trying to ignore the fifteen thousand ton gorilla that is just crapping and shrieking in the center of the room. I appreciate what you guys are trying to do, but this needs to be addressed and I think its best that you hear my side me from me.

There is another No-Town.

When when entering this site's URL, you may accidentally forget to type the hyphen. "Ah, I'm finally at No-Town, and it feels like coming home," you might say to yourself. "I can't wait to see what hilarious scrape Larry and the gang have gotten themselves into, this week! Will they solve a mystery or simply point out a funny, little universal truth that I could never articulate? The foundation of the strip is dynamite writing, but Tom's really starting to push himself as a visual artist, too!" Unfortunately, as your browser finishes loading, you are horrified to arrive here.

Notown: the official website of a Swedish breeder of Old English sheepdogs. Which is all well and good (except for being very inherently confusing. Swedish? English? Pick one, please!) unless you were actually trying to go to the REAL NO-TOWN! Which you were. In the above scenario.

The enemy.

"They're using your name! It's confusing! This is a disaster! Surely you have some legal recourse!"

Not in this case, friends.

Unfortunately, if someone thinks of a name (such as "NoTown") first and then uses that name (including registering an Internet domain) first, according to "the law" they own it. I know this seems unfair, but like it or not, that's just the way it is. I do plan to make it an ongoing project to learn more about this so-called law and how it can be changed. In the meantime, however, I've put together a three-point plan of action for my readership that may eventually persuade the owners of Notown.com to choose a different name for their dog brothel:

1. Remember the hyphen.

Every time you accidentally visit their site, they get what are called "hits." In Internet terms, each "hit" is worth several dollars. You're making them richer simply by viewing their site, so please remember the hypen! I know it's tough, but I've invented this easy anagram that I think may help:

Have Your Perfect Hilarious Entertaining No-Town: H.Y.P.H.E.N. Easy enough, right? You can do it!

2. Practice non-violent resistance.

I know this whole situation has probably got some of you pretty hot under the collar. Maybe you were thinking of grabbing your "strap" and a couple of your "OGs" and pulling a "hoo-ride" on Sweden. WELL, DON'T! Violence only breeds violence. In the immortal words of Tupac:

It's time for us as a people to start makin' some changes.
Let's change the way we eat, let's change the way we live
and let's change the way we treat each other.
You see the old way wasn't working so it's on us to do
what we gotta do, to survive.

3. Do not buy any of their sheepdogs.

I think if we use our heads and our hearts, we can win this thing! See, there's a little difference between them and me. At Notown.com it's bout dollars and cents. Watching the bottom line. Not caring who you have step on to be number one in the dog-hawking game.

No-Town.com follows a slightly different business model. You may have heard of it. It's called "caring."

And oh yeah, I posted a new comic. It's double-sized. For you.

New comic. What did I tell you? Who always comes through for you? Who's got your back?

If you and I were in a fight, you would be fighting and suddenly turn and see me and I have a gun. And you're like "No! Not you too, Tom!" and I basically point the gun at you and shoot. But guess what? I was shooting at a guy behind you that you didn't even see and killing him. I saved your life!

Or, if it's more like a funny saloon brawl, I would get on all fours behind your opponent and you could scare him so that he backs up and literally trips over me and his head gets stuck in a spittoon! YUCK!

Just tell me which kind of fight it is, bro.