Sneaking in this gorgeous Erika Patreon Autobio comic for you all this week!
Erika and I have been slamming our heads into a ‘Dirty Talk’ comic this past 2 weeks. Rewriting and drawing it so many times, really trying to find the comic in it. The problem lies with our nature to want to expand the idea into a WHOLE thing about ‘communication’ which could be like… 1,000 pages, rather than a short 4-5 page comic. Short succinct comics are hard ya’ll! Anyway, we’re exhausted, that comic isn’t ready yet, and we need a break. So, we’re taking a mental health week off, gonna come back to it fresher later on. Heck, we’ve even started talking about taking a longer sabbatical at some point; with working together under one roof without major breaks for all of Covid, it’s been hard to get away from constant ‘OJST-mode’. It’s got us needing a break and thinking about the future in a healthy mental way.
In the meantime you get this LOVELY comic Erika put together a while ago for her $3 (per OJST update) Patreon patrons. If you like this sort of Erika’s-thoughts-comics and want to see us continue making OJST’s, please consider joining up on our Patreon, truly, truly – every little helps!
↓ Comic Transcript
The Ridiculous by Erika Moen, published on ohjoysextoy.com/ridiculous on June 22, 2021 (Originally made for and published on patreon.com/ErikaMoen on December 5, 2020)
Erika Moen illustrates in a cartoony style with simple black lines for the characters. Photographs of a green kohlrabi plant at various stages of its development are superimposed onto the pages with black line work outlining the edges of it.
Page 1
Erika, a white woman in her mid-30s with two tiny pigtails on either side of her head, idly taps and scrolls around on her phone while slumping in her seat.
"Huh!" She exclaims in happy surprise at something that pops up on her screen.
Narration: Somehow I made it to 37 without ever having seen a kohlrabi before.
She hits "LIKE" on her screen.
Narration: It's this tennis ball-sized orb that sits atop a thin little stem and is sparsely covered in really theatrical leaf plumage. It's like an ostrich made of cabbage and I absolutely bought a packet of seeds based off of nothing more than a photo.
A color photograph of a real kohlrabi displays, with black inked lines around its edges. A black and white illustration of an ostrich with a cabbage body and large cabbage leaf for a tail looks at the real kohlrabi.
In a new scene, Matt stands behind Erika as she preps a seed bed on a table. He asks, "What does kohlrabi taste like? How do I cook it?"
"No clue." She answers, shaking seeds from her packed into the palm of her hand. "The taste isn't the point, honey. The point is:-" She then sprinkles the seeds into the grow bed. "-It's ridiculous."
Page 2
Photographs of a kohlrabi seedling show it sprouting up from the dirt, growing, and gaining more leaves as it descends the page.
Narration: I've made a lot of my life decisions based on how ridiculous I think the potential outcome may be and, hey, I've made it to 37 and I'm still alive so I must be doing something right.
Cartoon 21-year-old Erika sits against the young kohlrabi like it's a tree while she types away on her laptop, chatting with 19-year-old Matt.
Narration: At 21, a complete stranger offered, over a blog comment, to hook me up with a free place to stay when I came over to visit England and I took him up on it because I was young and broke and up for adventure. Ridiculous.
With her backpack on, Erika startles in surprise as she meets Matt for the first time. He stands underneath a photo of a small tree-sized kohlrabi, giving her a friendly wave.
Narration: I was a heartbroken lesbian, still in love with my ex, but I saw this cute British boy and I found him attractive(?!) and I thought hooking up with him would be a good story to tell my friends later. Ridiculous.
Page 3
Erika sits in the canopy of a larger kohlrabi, reaching her hand out to Matt, who is out of reach below in his own even older kohlrabi. They both have little hearts floating around their heads.
Narration: Despite agreeing that this silly fling would end when I went back to my country, we wound up in a long distance relationship for three and a half years. Ridiculous. We told each other to go ahead and pursue anyone else if somebody pretty came along who lived a little closer to home, or, y'know, just lived on the same continent. We'd save all our money just to fly across the world to spend days, weeks, once even a month-and-a-half together. We would run around and explore and fuck and laugh and absorb every moment together before one or the other would get back on the plane and make the long, long, long flight hoe.
Underneath a tree-sized kohlrabi, Matt swings Erika around in his arms while they kiss.
Narration: Every visit was probably the last, we figured, because we knew long distance relationships can only survive for so long. In three and a half years, we spent less than six months total in the same physical space.
Page 4
Erika and Matt sit on the edge of a kohlrabi leaf as Matt's mom stands in front of them. She holds both of their hands in hers.
Narration: At 25 his French mother sat us down because she was sick of our long distance angst and told us to get married, just so we could stay in the same country together for a while. "My darlings," She said. "Give it a shot. If it doesn't work out, you can get divorced." Ridiculous.
Matt and Erika standing beneath the shade of a fully grown kohlrabi that is the size of a tree. Erika holds a bouquet of flowers and Matt clasps his hand over hers while the two kiss.
Narration: Now I am 37 and what can I say? I make ridiculous decisions, whether I'm a former lesbian marrying a cute British boy because his mom proposed to us, or by painstakingly tending to a new crop of seedlings for months and months on end simply because I think some day they might look funny.
Page 5
Erika's drawn hand brings a pair of garden shears to the base stem of a fully grown kohlrabi.
Narration: The ridiculous is not practical or advisable. The ridiculous is strange and beautiful. The ridiculous captures my eye and delights me. I nurture and cultivate the ridiculous and the ridiculous nurtures and cultivates me right back. I love the ridiculous.
The scene shifts to Erika and Matt in the kitchen as Matt slices off a piece of the kohlrabi bulb.
"Ready?" He asks Erika, who is waiting in delighted anticipation. "First kohlrabi, here goes!"
The two crunch away on the raw vegetable.
Erika's face falls with confusion and distaste as she says "...I don't think I really like it."
"Pleh!" Matt spits out his mouthful.
Narration: May we all have something ridiculous to live for in our lives.
Transcribed by Erika Moen on October 15, 2026 for https://www.ohjoysextoy.com/ridiculous
Erika Moen illustrates in a cartoony style with simple black lines for the characters. Photographs of a green kohlrabi plant at various stages of its development are superimposed onto the pages with black line work outlining the edges of it.
Page 1
Erika, a white woman in her mid-30s with two tiny pigtails on either side of her head, idly taps and scrolls around on her phone while slumping in her seat.
"Huh!" She exclaims in happy surprise at something that pops up on her screen.
Narration: Somehow I made it to 37 without ever having seen a kohlrabi before.
She hits "LIKE" on her screen.
Narration: It's this tennis ball-sized orb that sits atop a thin little stem and is sparsely covered in really theatrical leaf plumage. It's like an ostrich made of cabbage and I absolutely bought a packet of seeds based off of nothing more than a photo.
A color photograph of a real kohlrabi displays, with black inked lines around its edges. A black and white illustration of an ostrich with a cabbage body and large cabbage leaf for a tail looks at the real kohlrabi.
In a new scene, Matt stands behind Erika as she preps a seed bed on a table. He asks, "What does kohlrabi taste like? How do I cook it?"
"No clue." She answers, shaking seeds from her packed into the palm of her hand. "The taste isn't the point, honey. The point is:-" She then sprinkles the seeds into the grow bed. "-It's ridiculous."
Page 2
Photographs of a kohlrabi seedling show it sprouting up from the dirt, growing, and gaining more leaves as it descends the page.
Narration: I've made a lot of my life decisions based on how ridiculous I think the potential outcome may be and, hey, I've made it to 37 and I'm still alive so I must be doing something right.
Cartoon 21-year-old Erika sits against the young kohlrabi like it's a tree while she types away on her laptop, chatting with 19-year-old Matt.
Narration: At 21, a complete stranger offered, over a blog comment, to hook me up with a free place to stay when I came over to visit England and I took him up on it because I was young and broke and up for adventure. Ridiculous.
With her backpack on, Erika startles in surprise as she meets Matt for the first time. He stands underneath a photo of a small tree-sized kohlrabi, giving her a friendly wave.
Narration: I was a heartbroken lesbian, still in love with my ex, but I saw this cute British boy and I found him attractive(?!) and I thought hooking up with him would be a good story to tell my friends later. Ridiculous.
Page 3
Erika sits in the canopy of a larger kohlrabi, reaching her hand out to Matt, who is out of reach below in his own even older kohlrabi. They both have little hearts floating around their heads.
Narration: Despite agreeing that this silly fling would end when I went back to my country, we wound up in a long distance relationship for three and a half years. Ridiculous. We told each other to go ahead and pursue anyone else if somebody pretty came along who lived a little closer to home, or, y'know, just lived on the same continent. We'd save all our money just to fly across the world to spend days, weeks, once even a month-and-a-half together. We would run around and explore and fuck and laugh and absorb every moment together before one or the other would get back on the plane and make the long, long, long flight hoe.
Underneath a tree-sized kohlrabi, Matt swings Erika around in his arms while they kiss.
Narration: Every visit was probably the last, we figured, because we knew long distance relationships can only survive for so long. In three and a half years, we spent less than six months total in the same physical space.
Page 4
Erika and Matt sit on the edge of a kohlrabi leaf as Matt's mom stands in front of them. She holds both of their hands in hers.
Narration: At 25 his French mother sat us down because she was sick of our long distance angst and told us to get married, just so we could stay in the same country together for a while. "My darlings," She said. "Give it a shot. If it doesn't work out, you can get divorced." Ridiculous.
Matt and Erika standing beneath the shade of a fully grown kohlrabi that is the size of a tree. Erika holds a bouquet of flowers and Matt clasps his hand over hers while the two kiss.
Narration: Now I am 37 and what can I say? I make ridiculous decisions, whether I'm a former lesbian marrying a cute British boy because his mom proposed to us, or by painstakingly tending to a new crop of seedlings for months and months on end simply because I think some day they might look funny.
Page 5
Erika's drawn hand brings a pair of garden shears to the base stem of a fully grown kohlrabi.
Narration: The ridiculous is not practical or advisable. The ridiculous is strange and beautiful. The ridiculous captures my eye and delights me. I nurture and cultivate the ridiculous and the ridiculous nurtures and cultivates me right back. I love the ridiculous.
The scene shifts to Erika and Matt in the kitchen as Matt slices off a piece of the kohlrabi bulb.
"Ready?" He asks Erika, who is waiting in delighted anticipation. "First kohlrabi, here goes!"
The two crunch away on the raw vegetable.
Erika's face falls with confusion and distaste as she says "...I don't think I really like it."
"Pleh!" Matt spits out his mouthful.
Narration: May we all have something ridiculous to live for in our lives.
Transcribed by Erika Moen on October 15, 2026 for https://www.ohjoysextoy.com/ridiculous