2004-03-10 - 9:36 p.m.

Last friday, I walked down to the comic book store during my lunch break in order to buy fashion romance manga some comic books. There weren't too many people there, but there are never very many people in any comic book store, except on those days when small children and 39-year-old losers team up to play Magic: The Gathering.

Actually, it was pretty sad that the store was so empty, because signing comic books there that day was: Political Cartoonist Ted Rall. Ted Freaking Rall. Good lord, I practically grew up reading Ted Rall (mostly because of many happy years of reading The Funny Times). I didn't even know he was there until I saw the flier announcing the signing while I was paying for my extremely non-poignant reading material. It turns out that Ted Rall was the nice man who was standing there browsing through the European comics rack. It also turns out that I was the only one who had showed up that day who was a fan of Ted Rall. This could partially be the fault of the comic book store - would a little publicity hurt? It's right in Harvard Square, for Bob's sake. And who has time to go to the comic store between noon and two on a Friday?

But anyway, I met Ted Rall. He was extremely nice, like someone's wacky dad. I hung out and talked with him for a while, bringing the number of famous people I've briefly hung out with up to two, if you count GWAR as being "famous" and a "person". Here are some things I talked about with Ted Rall:

• Librarians

• The fact that Summer really is my name, and no, I wasn't born in 1968 (why do people either think I'm much older or much younger than I am? I guess if I were born in 1968, I'd only be nine years younger than Blixa Bargeld and my crush on him wouldn't be so ridiculous. But I *am* 24, and not 16 or 36.)

• Colleges with no school spirit and how that's a good thing

• The renaming of things like "Boston Gardens" to the bland and horrid "Fleet Center"

• A strange woman Ted Rall once saw on the subway who boarded with a kitten on each shoulder. When she snapped her fingers, the kittens jumped down. When she snapped them again, the kittens jumped back up and she left.

• How Charles Mingus trained his cat to use the toilet

• How Charles Mingus hated all his drummers

• How Ted Rall should start an all-animal band so he could make a fortune. The python could play the bagpipes.

I bought one of his newer books (which I am enjoying very much) and he autographed it for me, complete with an intricate drawing of a very crazy Generalissimo El Busho. It was quite possibly my Best Lunch Break Ever.

So now because I'm feeling all political, here's a nice link for you all to enjoy: The George W. Bush Scorecard of Evil. I'm sure no one who reads my little webdiary regularly would be in any way inclined to vote for Bush, but please do your best to vote against him this fall. I don't know if I can take another four years of this.