Headaches

First of all, I've got a crushing headache of the kind that the gentle spring breezes tend to bring to Megatuberopolis at about 80 mph every spring. Pollen, pesticides, fetilizer, herbicides, radioactive waste and fist-sized grains of 'dust' make for a heady brew. Of course, I tell myself, at least it is spring, so the temperatures are soaring above 30 degrees. Farenheit. We don't believe in the metric system here in Megatuberopolis.
On top of this I have the headache known as the Information Superhighway in polite circles, or the f@$)!kE^%* internet in others. Having been in a cryogenic coma under the Arctic ice for several decades, I have a lot of catching up to do, and it's making my head throb. This blogging bidniz, for instance, seems straightforward enough, until you start trying to actually get someone to read the damn thing. Then, all of a sudden, you have to deal with backlinks and RSS feeds and webcrawlers and so on and so on. I'm sensitive artist, fer crying out loud! I shouldn't have to know this stuff.
Also, I realize that in addition to this little jewel of on-going virtual blather, I need an actual web-site of some kind where I can post sequential art in- get this- sequence. This blog stuff is all very well for the kinds of random slop I've been posting so far, but it's a hard way to read a comic.
So, I'm forced to conclude, the House of Pye needs it's own in-house IT expert, webmaster and all around interwob widgeteer. Volounteers? Anyone. That's what I thought...