The first comic I remember buying under the auspices of being a comic collector was G.I. JOE #48. Nick Geode, as I remember it, saw me reading it and asked if I collected comics. I had some comics. I suppose you could call that a collection. So yeah, sure, I collect comics.

The next day we'd schlep to the first comics store I'd ever seen-- it was called, swear to god, "Dreamth." And a big fat nerd was born.

Anyway. So, Wednesday morning I go get comics on my way in to work and flip through a box marked RECENT ARRIVALS by the register. And there I find it, the book that, for all intents and purposes, made me a fat nerd nobody talked to for a long time and ruined every Wednesday I ever had to say nothing of the majority of high school. How could I say no?

Let me take you back now to early spring, 1985: where, in an Osco drug store, from a spinner rack in the toy aisle, I may have well have removed my own penis while injecting a pound of cookie dough straight into my heart. The role-playing games, the Monty Python marathons, the crying a lot all by myself-- that would come later. It was here that me and comics kinda hooked up, and it was here that comics kinda let me get to second base.

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"He's dead, Destro. We all saw the Baroness empty her pistol into him...*"

"You can never be too careful where ninjas are concerned, Dr. Mindbender..."

* Last Issue!
--Bob

Yeah, I don't know either. I was, like, 10.

You know what? Shit. It was G.I. JOE #45. I just went looking through a cover gallery. It wasn't this piece of shit #48 at all. No. It was G.I. JOE #45 and the second YEARBOOK which ruled because of the AWESOME Michael Golden art.

Whew! That makes much more sense. Michael Golden. What ever happened to that guy? Ahh, it doesn't matter. Thanks, comics. Thanks for teaching me that you can never be too careful where ninjas are concerned. And that Michael Golden is awesome.