As I enter the final act of THE QUITTER, I needed to toy with a more expressive style. Something unorthodox so as to hit the RESET button. I thoroughly enjoyed inking this unfinished panel. I haven't cracked yet.
I was 24 and earned me some hemorrhoids. Too much coffee? Olde English 800? Crazy post college lifestyle? Stress? Fear? I dunno. Doctor prescribes Preparation H. Fine. Do what I gotta, right? So, I'm in the bathroom and I squeeze some of the medicine gunk out of the tube onto my index finger and liberally apply said gunk to my anus. Yay! I'm feeling lame, probably looking at the cat litter under the sink when, suddenly, I get a semi-boner!!! THE FUCK? For about a day, I thought I might be gay. Like, maybe I'd unlocked some deep secret I hadn't allowed myself to embrace. "Not that that's there's anything wrong with that." Still. That evening, I studied my [then] girlfriend and couldn't reveal my transformation. I felt like I was living a lie with her. Yet, the next day, I couldn't muster attraction for the same sex. Cock and balls were like mushrooms and fisheyes for me. A conundrum. Harried, I broke down and told my gal what happened when I applied my medicine. She looked at me like I was a fucking idiot. She learned me about my prostate and that I'd probably given it a good once over and that's what got me semi-hard. I haven't lived that one down since and I probably never will.