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Someday, someday I will write a comic that doesn't require the readers to know a year's worth of backstory to understand a stupid bulimia joke.

This is not that day.

0376-------------------------------------

(Thursday morning, INT: EB and JH's apartment)

EB: Well, if we're going to do this dialogue right, we have to start it right. Remember, I didn't say I was fat, I said I felt fat.
JH: I still don't really see the distinction. "Fat" is not an emotion.
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EB: Don't you sometimes feel bad about something that you know isn't true? Like, you feel stupid or ugly or talentless even though you know, intellectually, that that isn't the case?
JH: Um... yes. I have felt that. I felt that pretty recently, actually.
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EB: And if I had just told you not to feel that way, would you have been able to stop?
JH: Well... no. I pretty much had to have a full night's sleep and just sorta metabolize it.
JH: ...among other things.
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EB: Right, so maybe, maybe I just need some time to work through things the exact same way you did, huh?
JH: Well, given the technique I've seen you use, if nothing else, it'd help you lose weight...