Observant viewers may have noticed some minor cosmetic changes to jvg.com, enacted in celebration of my 30th Birthday. [Insert obligatory Book of Ages plug here.]

This entrancing new look is accompanied by equally entrancing minor content changes, including the re-introduction of a brand-new old comic strip returning to print on the web for the first time again! So strap on your hip waders and enjoy.

ITEMIZED: NEW! IMPROVED! JVG! DOT! COM! FEATURES!
• JVG: The Comic Strip temporarily more frequent!
For the rest of my birthday week, I will be premiering a full strip every day. WOW!

• "NOW THAT I'M FAMOUS" Weblog slightly improved!
In accordance with the requests made by you, the loyal readers, I will attempt to raise my blog commitment by one quarter-ass to a full half-ass. If this means returning to the glory days of grandiose statements regarding my own famousity, so be it.

• THE ADVENTURES OF ANDREW SNAIL slides in!
Close friend and compatriot Jay Veegee has agreed to allow me to publish his comic strip magnum opus, The Adventures of Andrew Snail (recently discussed in comments) on this site. The strip will appear at the bottom of this very page, updated weekly. Those of you lucky enough to have a copy of the limited edition first printing of The Adventures of Andrew Snail: The Book will recognize many of the initial offerings, but Veegee assures his reading public that once these run out, he will begin producing new ones.

Some have claimed that The Adventures of Andrew Snail is a litmus test for intelligence. Others have claimed it's a flagrant abuse of copier privileges. By law, you have the right to form your own opinion on the issue.

—Being an attempt to craft The Perfect Sentence—

She had the body of a woman half her size, only larger.

—Being an attempt to craft The Perfect Sentence—

Pretty, tiny little forthright fish giraffe and sing.

—Being an attempt to craft The Perfect Sentence—

His was a soul of pudding, and a heart of flan.

—Being an attempt to craft The Perfect Sentence—

Hareton shuffles through papers until he finds the envelope Heath was using to blackmail Hindley, who is so stupid he’s left it on his desk for the past several months.

The audience can now see that the next item is “Seduce Cathy”.

It’s the wrong boy, but what the hell.

UPDATE: Due to lack of reader response, all of the above sentences have been cut from the latest draft.

—Being an attempt to craft The Perfect Sentence—
BY REQUEST, AN ATTEMPT AT A LONGER SENTENCE

—Being an attempt to craft The Perfect Sentence—
BY REQUEST, AN ATTEMPT AT A LONGER SENTENCE

—Being an attempt to craft The Perfect Sentence—

In my opinion, the capital of Michigan is Spain.

I'd like to state for the record that I have never, ever claimed to be famous.

"Famous" was simply a word thrown around by a few discontented troublemakers in the liberal media, and to suggest I, or anyone else in the JVG.com administration, should be censured by congress for "lying to the public" is ludicrous — even if, as some pundits claim, the U.S. invasion of Iraq was a direct result of my famousness.

—Being an attempt to craft The Perfect Sentence—

Perhaps the act of trying to create the perfect sentence prevents me from doing so. Perhaps I simply must relax and let it flow. Perhaps I have written the perfect sentence already and unwittingly sent it to somone else. Just in case, a random samping of sentences from recent emails, verbatim as they appeared.

• There were things I wanted to change about this, what did you?
• Slightly around the ears.
• Still ha'int paid their bill.
• Some of them seem to have gotten lost in the web ether.
• Plus, send all graphics.
• I'll just be crying in my wife's garters.
• Was looking forward to having you over, in addition to the 1am striptease.
• What a jackass you am.
• Makes sense to swap them this afternoon, so we can arrive having read, and possibly commented on, them.
• Remind me to reward you with a hearty handshake.
• Well, you didn't gay happen to gay be there on that gay night.

Now playing at the Flatbush Avenue Pavilion, Flatbush Avenue, Brooklyn:

Lord of the Rings
Passion of the Christ
Dawn of the Dead

—Being an attempt to craft The Perfect Sentence—

His hyperlink was unrepentant.

—Being an attempt to craft The Perfect Sentence—

"FROG you, MacRib," enthused Detritus.

—Being an attempt to craft The Perfect Sentence—

I began and ended in a strange place, where there were neither lies told nor promises made.

Would Passion of the Christ have done as well if Gibson had called it Beating the Fuck Out Of Jesus?