Look ya little fucker, I have something 
called a job that, unless this cartoon 
takes off, I have to spend eight hours 
a day there just like the next gal. If you 
have nothing better to do with your life 
than to flip through frames to determine 
if the outfit a character is wearing has 
the exact same pattern as the last one 
or if you study my sketches with a 
magnifying glass for all the little 
inevitable mistakes that happen when you 
have an overly needy cat who likes to 
nudge your hand right when you are 
drawing a line, then I invite you to:

GET OUT AND 
GET A LIFE. 

Just because your mommie didn't wipe your 
little bottom enough when you were a 
baby and you were forced to eat cereal with 
catsick in it doesn't make it my problem. 
I don't have time to entertain your 
perfectionist, anally retentive obsessions. 

  With love, 

Bitter Emma

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