Assholes and Dipshits.

Yanno what's funny? No matter who's in office, it's always a bunch of assholes and dipshits who voted him in there. It's always whatever particular group of assholes and dipshits you happen to identify with. For instance, my brand of assholes and dipshits are currently doing everything they can to make the other group of assholes and dipshits happy so that they can pick up a few extra votes, even though those assholes have made it abundantly clear that nothing my assholes do will make those other assholes happy. If my assholes would take a page out of the other assholes' playbook and take advantage of their numbers to actually get something done I'd be a happier dipshit, myself.

I also know that I've registered as an Independent Dipshit, but for the most part I tend to lean to the left of the Universal Asshole Graph. Sooo yanno, while I like the thought of being an Independent Dipshit, I know that my underlying pinko tendencies make me vote for a certain group of fuckbuckets. Take from that what you will.

Howdy folks! Have a happy 4th!

So we must take note that blatantly whoring for comment doesn't work. Well played, audience. Well played.

So I'm thinking about maybe actually having a theme with this here blog thing in addition to the comics. (which are coming! I'm very lazy.) Should I delete all these previous nonsense posts to coincide with the change in content, or should I keep the old posts and just kind of segway into having actual meaning? Post your thoughts in the comments thread.

Film Maker

Howdy folks! 

I got my studio set up in the spare bedroom, so that's pretty jazzing. I just might get some quality work done after all. Of course I might also just spend all day playing darts, like I did today. Without the dartboard, however, I might just lose my shit completely. So, yanno, there's a balance to be struck here. 

I would really, dearly love to have a pachinko machine in there. Hopefully within a couple months or so I'll be able to afford one. I don't know why I think it's a good idea putting a gameroom where I'm supposed to be working, but it's much better than staring at the wall when I've got no new ideas. 

You could put up a pretty good argument that I've never had a new idea. Who has, really, though?

I guess I can call myself a film-maker now without feeling like a liar. I know when and where Antibaby is going to be playing now, so that's jazzing. We'll post more on that later.

Be excellent.

Today was fun while it lasted. I have a new pencil, just like the old one Charlie chewed up. I feel happy in my happy place. 

Man. I need to get a life.

Screwed.

Don't ever check your email over your cell phone. Apparently that jacks up your bill to unmanageable levels. So basically I'm not going to have a phone for a bit.

Also, Charlie saw the need to eat my brand new mechanical pencil. I don't get paid until Friday and I have a hell of a lot of bills. 

Essentially I'm screwed. 

What the fuck is with this Lady GaGa bullshit? I can't jack off to this, nor am I mentally stimulated. So what the hell is this good for? I'm out of touch, I know, I listen to almost nothing but NPR lately, but still. Popular music sure did get really shitty lately.

Man. Well I guess I've been in a shitty mood. Meh, this blog jumped the shark a long time ago, so whatever, folks.

Be excellent.

Draft Autosaved At 10:33 AM

So. Yeah. Things didn't quite go as planned this weekend. Granted, I didn't have grand fabulous plans, but still. I thought I'd take it slow and get some artwork slammed out. Maybe I'd go see Friday the 13th. I did not plan on having to work a double shift on my day off. That kind of ruined the whole day plus the day after it. Fucking economy.

What I wouldn't give to have marketable skills right about now.

I realize I just used the phrase "grand fabulous plans." It's alright, I can use that phrase because I'm comfortable with my masculinity.

Times like this I really wish I drank more. 

Be excellent.

Confident.

I feel good today. Validated, confident, non-asshole-like. Also, other words containing hyphens. Anyhow I'm sitting here waiting on the little brother to finish lunch and get over here so we can move some stuff. 

After that, I'm gonna take advantage of this new found confidence and put it to some use. 

Be excellent.

Guess who's an official selection at the Bare Bones International Film Festival? Yep! Jazzed!

Bad Movie Night and Boner Time.

I am baking cookies. Having baked cookies, all I can say is I need more practice baking cookies. They're not ruined, but they're not mom's, either. 

That's all there is to say about that.

I watched part of the Oscars tonight and for the first time since I've been watching the Oscars I was only about half interested. This is the first year in a long time that I hadn't seen any of the movies that were nominated. I'm going to have to watch them, though. I'm just going to wait until they're out on dvd. Out of all the nominees this year there wasn't one outside of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button that I really wanted to see in theatres. Everyone I thought would win did. I will admit though that since there weren't any movies I had seen, there wasn't one I was particularly rooting for, either. 

I also realize that there's a recession going on but the presentation was the lamest one I've ever seen. How about having a pulse, people? I did like the end credits being a long trailer orgy for almost every major movie coming out this year. I hope to be seeing a lot of these flicks. 

I like going to movies by myself. It's a lot more fun that you'd think. I don't mind seeing them with other people, but if you can't find anybody to go with, or you just want to blow through an afternoon watching matinees, you really can't go wrong by yourself.

Which brings me to last night, which was Bad Movie Night. It had been far too long since we'd had one so I was already pretty jazzed to be meeting up with the Circle and watching some good old fashioned crapola. 

We started off with Buster's selection, Mulva, Zombie Ass Kicker. There were some zombies, and there was some humor, but there was very little actual ass kicking. There was chocolate syrup addicted Mulva, her friend the London Whore, and some kind of Don King anime guy in black face. We had no idea if the Don King anime guy was really ironic and hilarious or just really racist, but it was a fun little flick. I no longer feel bad about my camera work or production values. If Mulva, Zombie Ass Kicker can get a distribution deal, I feel kind of good about my chances.

Jeremy's selection was a hunk of shit called Demons at the Door. The ending was hilarious, but to get to it you had to sit through an awful lot of meathead posturing by the lead doofus in the bad toupée and obviously bad special effects. Though there was naked shower chainsaw, which was pretty swell. We decided it was disqualified for the naked shower chainsaw, and the ending saved it from bad movie hell. 

We rounded out the night with my movie, The Devil's Nightmare, which didn't get finished because the kid woke up. We spent most of the time trying to guess which of the seven deadly sins each of the seven stranded tourists represented and trying not to stand up during the rock hard boner inspiring lesbian scene between Lust and Sloth. The women they got for those old Gothic Italian horror movies were ridiculously hot. Face meltingly hot. I don't know where they found them because you just don't see women that hot in movies anymore. Anyhow I don't know if my movie won but it did go directly into the spank bank.

It's important to remember, however, that I have nice hair.

Confessional Farting.

So it's Friday night and I'm sitting here alone listening to iTunes. I made some really fantastic shredded beef burritos earlier and I have a hell of a lot of leftovers. This always happens because I never learned how to cook for any less than six people. Still, I'll be working on the leftovers for days. I'll probably freeze the rest and I can have some jazzy burritos whenever, no fuss. Maybe I'll take some to the folks as payback for always sending me home with food.

Point here is, I cook for six and I'm just feeding one. Not counting the dogs, they don't eat people food. Lou used to be really bad about begging, and I don't even want to get Charlie started. That there's a tangent, and it's been known to happen, people. Anyhow, I am sitting here alone on a Friday night and I am absolutely sure I bring this on myself. Though Primus is playing and it's pretty swell.

You'd think Charlie was the one that ate the burrito, with the frequency and stink of his farts lately. Man that dog farts a lot. I'm not just blaming the dog, my farts have a sort of spicy aftertaste, where Charlie's farts are more earthy. I'm sure that's more than you wanted to know.

Okay, I think it's safe to say I'm not going to be coherent tonight.

My problem is I'm not outgoing and I have trouble starting conversations. When I do get going, when I'm really building a rapport, the insecurities kick in and I switch into Don't Fuck It Up mode. Which just spirals straight down into failure. See, I have a nasty habit of saying really stupid things, mostly in front of an audience. I remember this flaw of mine at the most inopportune times, therefore making it a self-fulfilling prophecy. 

There's one of my farts. Light, not unlike a nice vinegary pea soup. I think I've made my point, here.

I'd really like to think this blog will show up on Google searches other than for panty-sniffing. I'm not holding my breath, though.

Anyhow, the solution seems pretty simple. Go out, meet people, don't worry about being stupid. Putting it together though, there lies the problem. I'm not very comfortable around people I don't know well. I've tried to force it, with varying results, but there's always the feeling that I'm forcing it. I always end up eventually spazzing out. Then I feel ridiculous and like a coward.

I'm the only one of my circle of friends who isn't domesticated. One morning I woke up and realized I'm the fuck up of the group. Granted, it's a tiny group, and there are a lot of people a lot more fucked up than I am. I don't want to spend the rest of my life being the fifth wheel, though. I need to make changes.

Of course I've been saying I need to make changes for years and haven't changed anything. Not permanently, anyway. I always end up falling back into the same old rut sooner or later. At some point, though, I'm not going to have a choice, and that's going to be way more uncomfortable than it would be changing without being forced into it. 

I also refuse to give up on the old dreams I had when I was a kid. Even though there are days where I have no clue what I'm doing and I feel like an idiot for even trying.

Here I am writing a fucking confessional and I'm not even drinking. If I was drunk I'd at least have an excuse. 

Here we have a picture of me. Please enjoy and think of dog farts.

Wait, that came out wrong. I don't want you to associate my face with dog farts. Unless you're into dog farts. That's kind of weird but if it gets you going by all means, enjoy the dog farts. 

Which brings me to a story. *My brother apparently obsesses over my sister-in-law's farts. He listens for them and keeps a chart of what they smelled like and how long they lingered. 

Anyhow I think I'm going to stop now. Be excellent.

*Oh yeah, that part about my brother obsessing over his wife's farts, I made half of that up. I don't know if he keeps charts about the smell and duration. I just thought it would be funny.

The Infamous Octopus

And here it is, the infamous octopus. The shadowy areas are where the pad wasn't lying flat on the scanner. 

Update, my scanner here at home is officially dead.

Enjoy the photo, and be excellent.

Octopus

I went back to the killer octopus this morning and I've got to say, he looks pretty grand now. Only problem is, you can sort of tell where Fat Charlie slammed into the table when I was inking the tip of one of its tentacles. I added some subtle stripes and some background and it made a hell of a difference. 

I needed a break from the comics for a while. I think I'm going to sketch around another day or so before I jump headlong into the sequential art again. I need to build my confidence up some more first. 

My scanner is dead. I'm gonna see what happens when I reinstall the software, and if it works, I'll post the octopus tonight or tomorrow. If it doesn't, I'll have to use my dad's scanner. Which means I'll have to figure out his computer. I don't want to figure out his computer. My parents have that Vista shit and every time I look at it I see a jumbled mess that leads to nowhere. I'd much rather use my Mac, where everything's set up logically.

I'm pretty sure my scanner's dead, though. That thing is ancient and way past warranty. 

Be excellent.

I make some good ass tuna salad.

Missing Limbs

So I drew one of Oklahoma's very own mythological killer octopuses and I was really pleased with my line work. The color wasn't half bad, either. While the contrast could be a bit better, the ink was strong and confident and the colors I used complimented each other very well. I will, however, need some new brushes soon as my old ones don't hold a point very well anymore. 

The comics are coming around, as well. The work is slow right now, I only got through the pencils on a couple panels today before frustration caused me to put it aside for a while. Anyhow the pace will be picking up and it's only a four page story after all. 

At any rate, I'll be pulling out the old reference books and refreshing myself on the basics as I go along. 

I really should never have stopped. It's like I re-grew a missing limb and I'm having to learn to use it all over again. There will be no giving up this time around.

Be excellent.

I'm Still Fairly Good.

So the art is coming along nicely. I'm still not completely confident with it, but I still know where everything goes and what it's supposed to look like. I'm also happy to report that I'm still fairly good at drawing. Though I'm going to need a bit more practice until I'm at the level I used to be. 

Who knows what would have happened if I'd never put the pencil down. Ah well, what's the use in what ifs?

Anyhow so this guy is not a new drawing, but he's a drawing, and I'm pleased with the detail. Although he is a bit creepy. That was probably the point, though.

Be excellent.

This sucks.

Changes Coming.

I'm kicking around the idea of posting webcomics on here at least a couple times a week. That is, if I come up with anything good. It's going to be a lot more story oriented, though. As you can tell from the sample posted here, I'm not very good with the four panel, set up/punch line format. I also feel like going way back using the ancient art of the number 0 ink brush and the colored pencils. No more of this fancy computer painting jive. 

Hell, I don't even know if I have any original ideas. We'll just have to see.

Anyhow chillun either it works or it doesn't. The first comic post will be coming up in another week or so and if that goes well we'll do some more.

Be excellent.

My beefy taint shall overtake your tiny minds!

MY KINGDOM FOR A PAIR OF CLEAN TESTICLES!

This webcam of New Zealand is boring as shit.

Eyeballs!

That's right, baloney. Because Balogna is a city in Italy. Baloney is my sweaty taint.

My taint smells like finely aged baloney.

In other words, Andrew Zimmern can exactly describe for me how my balls taste. My guess is old roast beef.

My balls smell weird. They've got this gamey tang. I don't know, I think I should teabag Andrew Zimmern and he'd give me the rundown on exactly what nuances of my balls are reacting to his trained palate.

Illuminations on ...

Still frozen in. Pipes are frozen, too. So, not only am I going stark raving fucking stir crazy, but I can't take a shower to at least feel human. Just when you think it can't possibly get any worse, it gets worse.

Somebody smash a vase over my head.

...

I'd really like it if it would just flipping snow instead of all this ice shit. 

Thank you and good night.

Baffled.

So women continue to baffle the hell out of me. You're supposed to show interest when one comes around and hangs out for a bit, right? So, the conversation seems to be going alright, I have an opening, I go ahead and state my intentions, and she laughs so I figure I'm in like Flynn. Then I don't ever see the girl again. Maybe I read her wrong.

It's been known to happen. 

Anyhow so there isn't any such thing as even a small freshwater octopus, much less a giant man-eating one. Add to that the stories say these things have been showing up in Indian legends for hundreds of years, but most of the lakes in Oklahoma didn't exist more than fifty years ago. It's a load of bullshit. I love weird stories like that, though. They're fun to read, whether they're true or not.

Be excellent.

Add Enclosure Link

Some mornings you just don't want to bother putting on your fucking pants, yanno? I'm tired. I want to go back to bed. Obi Wan Kenobi refuses me, however. He says "Get the fuck up, Mike. Comb your hair and put your fucking pants on. You can't spend all day jamming thumbtacks up your kiester." Which is totally right. I can't spend all day jamming thumbtacks up my kiester. I don't know what I was thinking.

Though it is a pretty irritating day. I'm sitting here staring at a blank screen and thinking I should maybe do a Bad Movie Fridays post but it's Monday and I haven't watched shit.

Enjoy the funky slug thing. Be excellent.

Killer Octopi and Cold Balls

Jesus it's cold outside. My balls have herded themselves up into my earholes and now not only am I cold, I can't hear shit. It wouldn't be that bad but Fat Charlie wants to walk around and sniff everything before he takes a dump. Just take a dump, dog. It's all the same stuff that was here yesterday, it won't smell any different.

That's the problem with dogs. They don't use logic, and they don't care about your balls. 

I just learned that there's apparently a giant killer octopus thing swimming around various lakes here in Oklahoma. We might just have to load up the wagon and check this thing out.

Be excellent, folks.

Yes Indeed.

So if you haven't seen Antibaby yet and aren't yet sick of hearing me talk about it, go take a look pretty soon because I'm gonna be taking it down in a bit. I'm proud because it's the first film I've made where I thought it was good enough to show people. It's on its way to film festivals out and about so we'll see how that works. 

I did, however, forget to give Jeremy his story credit. I'll get it rectified, though. I don't want to be that dude that fucks things up and doesn't make it right.

It's going to be a hell of a year.

Anyhow folks that's it for today. Be excellent. The accompanying picture has nothing to do with the blog post, as always.

Short Entry.

Well, last night was the national championship game and, staying true to form, the Sooners lost. This morning I woke up, paid all my bills, and now my paycheck is gone. All in all, this is one hell of a depressing fucking day.

However it's close to tax return season, so there's a little bit of happy creeping in. Just a little bit, but it's there.

Just a short entry today. I got nothing witty to talk about at the moment. Be excellent.

Zaglar the Magnificent

So here's the link for the movie Buster and I made New Year's Day. When it posted to Youtube it turned out a lot darker than what it did when I watched it here while editing. Everything was clear as day on Buster's dvd player. So, I don't know what happened there, but in the future I'll be mindful that things will look much different from platform to platform and I'll try and keep them as consistent as I can.

Anyhow it turned out pretty well for something we just did on the spur of the moment. Well, it took us three tries and a lot more takes than usual but it still made everybody who's seen it so far smile, so we've got that going for us, which is nice. We also got the new year started on a productive note so you have to be happy about that.

I also really like Zaglar and he's probably going to show up in a lot of stuff down the road.

I hope everybody's year is off to a great start. Be excellent.

Whopper Virgins

Have you seen these new Burger King commercials where they have these indigenous people take part in a taste test between the Whopper and the Big Mac? I get this feeling that exposing these adorable tribesmen to the vacuous side of American culture in the name of marketing is going to turn out to be a bad idea. I mean, we have these people; they seem happy, they wear funny hats, why do we have to ruin them? It's not a large leap to think that once these people get hooked on fast food, they'll start listening to Nickelback and tilting their funny hats. Do we really want to be responsible for that? I'd like to think not.

Then again, I still refuse to believe that Dancing with the Stars is an actual show. So I can wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which gets filled first.

Buster and I filmed a short film on New Year's Day. It's cringeworthy and wholesome. Link will be coming soon.

I'm slowly getting back into the swing of regular blogging. Please bear with me.

Be excellent.