As a kid I'd spend most days playing Zelda or Final Fantasy IX for the eight-thousandth time. There was something about that little town I grew up in called Chambersburg, Pennsylvania that I'm very grateful for, and it's the same thing I hated it for: there was nothing to bloody do. It's what everyone says about their hometown, but I truly think it's a blessing in disguise. If it weren't for my horribly aching boredom in church or in school, I would likely never have developed the creative motivation that now fuels everything I do. Until you've become fed up and decide to personally seek out what you find cool on your own initiative, you run the risk of getting a job at the local fried food joint for the rest of your days, stuck in an infinite loop of tedium. The primary tool I used as a kid to pass the hours when I wasn't holding a game controller was a comic strip called "Wormy & Stoopy," which was, incidentally, the best comic strip ever created.

Okay, so it was horrible. But this stupid comic I made when my age was still a single digit actually laid the framework for everything that would come afterwards. As hard as I'd try to draw "serious" things or write "dramatic" storylines, I'd always find myself coming back to this spontaneous, often incredibly stupid style of creativity. That's why that buck-toothed smile gazes upon you in every page of this website: it's a reminder to myself that this is who I am, and while it's good to diverge every once in a while, I am a buck-toothed stick figure at heart.

My name is Mike Riendeau, and I'm a cartoonist.