Some morning radio DJs are missing their sidekicks. Listen in to WHUH every weekday morning from 5 to 12 where Captain Porch and The Humidor will be playing Summercation Buck$tacular all through the month of June! Be the lucky caller and win something that can’t possibly justify listening to this rubbish every day of your life for hours!
Is this a breast book by Dr. Susan Love, or does Dr. Susan just love breast? To such a degree as to feel inspired to write this huge book? And am I seriously confident that I’m the first person aware of this book’s existence to make such remarks?
I recently encountered a large automobile with a “horse enthusiast” license plate. Is it really necessary to say that? Why else would you have a picture of a horse on a permanent accessory of your vehicle? Why do you even have a car? Why don’t you just ride a horse everywhere?* Do you even know if you can feed a horse bananas? As the saying goes, you can lead a horse to bananas, but you can’t lead bananas anywhere. And you shouldn’t, because that would make them led bananas, which would make you quite sick if you ate them. It’s not a very good saying.
*not because you think continually placing your full, domestically conditioned weight on and ordering movement of the animal might be a source of annoyance, of course. Why would that ever occur to you?
These people are WAY too excited about Werther’s “Original” Unspecified Object. Here is a thing to ask yourself if you think you might be too excited about the one who Werthes: “Did the thought occur to me that I might be? Nevermind the too, am I excited about Werther’s Original in the slightest? If I have to ask these questions, is my personal sense of judgment adequate that it is safe for me to be walking around in public? If that is not the case, can I even trust me to provide the answers?”
Ehhh… I know a person fairly well who likes these things, in fact, but surely even he would agree that the exuberance on display here is in excess. We must do something exciting to justify the already initiated withdrawal from our glee reserves.
The war on non-curled hair has been just as spectacular as you’d expect. I’m so charged and inspired I could just about refill my salt shaker.
Big trouble today. Big trouble tomorrow. Big trouble all week. Big trouble big bad. No good. Must make great kill at hunt and honor ancestor. Dance with mountain people. Thumpa thumpa yo! Sacrificial beneficial, nothing here is artificial. My teeth hurt.
Big trouble today. My rubbish AT&T internet connection has not helped. It is simply not feasible for me to update this page the way I desire to or talk to anybody. The replacement frame is just about the worst piece of artwork ever done. It looks like something out of the first issue of Ninja Turtles. Except it probably took me as long to draw that one frame as Laird Eastman did drawing the whole comic book. Oops. That’s all I have time to say.
bad news: I crammed far too many words on this page
good news: I couldn’t cram in as many as I wanted
better news: the awful hospital part is almost over
bad news: “almost” means in about three or so pages, which will take me as many months to finish
worse news: I don’t know what happens next yet.
Elpz seems unconcerned with, or worse, entirely oblivious to the fact that it is the only character on the page that is naked. The hat, being an item of clothing, is exempt, and it wears a stylish feather, besides.
Yet one more indicator I should switch to a fixed width, vertical format without page barriers. Apparently eliminating excess dialogue and space-wasting non-gags is not an option. I just don’t like the idea of drawing big stupid backgrounds for frames where only one character is visible.
Also, it is becoming apparent I that have some perverse fascination with mail delivery. However, I do not. I merely am not terribly creative when it (it being something) comes to plot devices.
I am not soliciting them, but I am open to dialog simplification suggestions. Do you think you could write this better than I could? Then you’re probably right!
I am trying to do a thing, but it is taking too long. Oops. I will try again tomorrow.
That really isn’t my problem. I couldn’t help you if it was. I wouldn’t if I could.
Michael Jackson is not a good Nerf gun, apparently, regardless of how many of his body parts are reported to be constructed from the orange, foam-like substance.
“Other farm games”: why are there any, much less if they are reputed for their slowness? I don’t doubt that even a video game about filling a bucket could be entertaining if done properly or merely spammoed to enough idiots in the facebook who forget that actual video games still exist, but I’d still be baffled if an entire genre formed around it. At best, you’ll get a series of Double Dare physical challenges out of it.
I could scarcely grasp the popularity of amusement park simulations, but farms just seem slow and dull. I liked running around with the guy in Harvest Moon until I realized I had to make him buy seeds and plant stuff. Although even more popular to others and more baffling to me are simulations of the yet more mundane, less consequential strictly residential existences of The Sims, and I filled a couple of notebook pages complaining about that which neither you nor I are likely to see in our futures, to our non-detriment, so let us talk about something else.
Why is there a life size cardboard cut out of just some guy in this store? I thought it was one of the employees, at first, because of that necklace he’s wearing, but soon I knew the truth:
Yes, hopay, I understand it’s one of the characters from the feature film Twineline… but if I had not seen the movie I would not know that. And as somebody who’s seen the movie, I can’t imagine why anybody would want to own a thing which reminded them of it. The guy’s boardsona is utterly ordinary looking aside from his chalky skin, which could easily be a result of it being out in someone’s back yard for a couple years.
I also received a relatively peculiar letter through the mail recently. I must consider its implications.
I saw a preview for that Carol movie. It doesn’t even star Jim Carrey. It stars some unsettling computer-made guy that resembles Jim Carrey and sounds like him but might as well sound like a pterodactyl because that’s not actually him. I assumed the movie was just some superfluous and unnecessary thing, but by Brinna it’s an expensive, crrrrreepy, superfluous and unnecessary thing. You might say “Scrooge is bad. He’s supposed to be unsettling.” But in the tradition of showing Dr. Claw just walking around in the preview for Inspector Gadget, Disney also shows happy Scrooge dancing in the road on Christmas morning, and he looks even scarier than before.
I like gummy worms, how about you?
I do not, however, like gummy, tooth-eating mouth parasites. Neither does the character on the box, from the look of things. Consider that we are talking about the mass consumption of legless, slimy invertebrates, and I only just now got grossed out by it, maybe you should rethink your marketing. Also, that hot dog looks too firm and uniformly colored to be any good. I like hot dogs, but I hate ones like that. The ones that people in tv commercials always stick their tongues out like “wlaaaah” to eat and then bite sideways. Also the really long kind that doesn’t fit in the roll. Those always taste wrong. I don’t trust that mustid application, either. Not that I eat mustard, but I’m open to the idea of trying it at some point. I’m still mentally preparing myself for relish. Why must ard be applied in a spike pattern? Why not like a wave border, or windows 3.1 egypt.bmp style?
This reminds me, it’s about time for an update on a recent matter of great importance:
Hey, do we have enough A Christmas Carols? Do we have enough A Disney A Christmas Carols? Do we have enough Christmas movies with Jim Carrey inappropriately cast as the originally non-wacky protagonist? Do we have enough Jim Carrey movies in which he has mysterious magical powers (I refer to his ability to grow to enormous size and fly around merely by taking off his legs)? This poster suggests that we do not.
I ask because nobody tells me these things. Obviously.
Here are some things. You may have seen them before. Maybe not.
Don’t you know, this is a PRIVATE beach.
It is supposed to be a thing getting shot at and struck by arrows. It does not look like that. It looks like a thing standing around with either Nintendo graphic glitches or nothing attacking its right leg. Oops. I will hope for better luck next time.
The castle guards, those who have defended themselves with the arrows, are either invisible or possessors of ant like strength to lift such comparatively big, almost ballista bolt-sized arrows with. I kept the guards intentionally unseen because I thought it was funnier that way. You see the castle, then you see the arrows, then you look back at the castle and wonder. If there were visible little men running around in it, the creature would have approached more cautiously. I like it being ambushed and being stunned by the ambush. With a single image, by me, this is the only way it can work. But that does not mean that it always will work, and on this occasion it did not. And so I wish myself to make a better effort in the future.
Somebody wanted a “shoreline themed” image, specifically regarding United-State Connecticut’s shore line. Several pictures, actually. I only made two, though. And you might suggest to me that armadillos don’t live in or near Connecticut, and I would (I know myself better than I know you, after all) respond by pointing out the many differences between that thing and an actual armadillo (and that is why you should never ever talk to me). In fact, these do not live anywhere, for they do not exist. Go directly to school. Additionally, I exaggerated the likelihood of a sand construction recognizable as resembling anything existing in this place. I know, I tried to build one to use as a model and it was impossible.
You know how sometimes people will claim something they made is “bad” but they’ll show it to you anyway, expecting compliments? I won’t even do that.
This Aztec eagle thing that I made without trying, just by digging my fingers into the ground so to grasp sand for lifting looks better than the castle I attempted to make. Part of the trouble was that I did not want to actually sit on the ground, preferring instead to awkwardly semi-crouch around, which is painful and not helpful, only cleaner. Also, the people who make “real” sand castles bring their own special sand for the purpose (as I understand it). And in that case I ask: why even use sand? If it’s not the stuff you’d find on a beach, why bring it to a beach? Why not just sculpt it in your house? Why not use a more permanent medium that you can actually save? Why make castles all the time? Some people don’t make castles, but overwhelmingly they do. In addition to bringing their own sand, they also have sculpting tools, experience and clothing they don’t mind getting sand on. Elitists.
Getting back to the failings of the thing I made and did show you, the only realistic aspect of it is that dreadful pink house. I’ve been seeing that thing for years; one [human (me)] would think I could produce an accurate representation of it without endless redraws and multiple references. One, as usual, is dreadfully misinformed, as the house is just normal dreadful. However, at the time of this picture making I did not guess how dreadful it could be.
The pink house now has a stupid pitiful fence around it. We don’t want anybody touching our precious sand, does we! You can still see the house, and any person weighing more than a pumpkin could easily topple the thing, so why is it there? To make me mad! I’m glad they’re thinking of me, but not enough that I am no longer mad.
It showed up about two weeks ago. One week ago I discovered an attempt to put a fence around the marsh, despite the fact that nobody can walk in the marsh and there’s no reason, logical or otherwise, to attempt to restrict passage by tall, bipedal humanoids into it.
Oh, somebody’s a fancy katydid now.
The walkway is admirable. Now instead of having to wander into the road and then down a short path to the beach, a few people can walk down a slightly shorter path to the beach that nobody else can walk on. I don’t know enough about marshes to be able to say what natural life this harms, but I can complain about the gate: id ecch: why is there one? Even the Heaven’s Gate cult made more sense than this one. People feel a need to announce “I made this path, only I may make walk on it.” Nobody but you wants to go to your dopey house anyway! I might have wanted to visit, but I changed my mind when you started to build a fence around the marsh. Sneer! All these fences are new. They were not here ten years ago. What prompted this? These people would put a fence around the moon if they could. Then they would put a fence around that fence.
No, I am not going to blame nemitz for all fences in the galaxy. I know you’re disappointed. I promise to yell at nemitz about something later.
I always either do too much research or too little. All the New England fish that I like are ocean fish. A lot of grey, ugly fish in the “fresh” water around these parts. And then I find out that the two dopey imps prominent here don’t actually exist. Hopefully I can keep that a secret.
I wanted to put a viking ship in the background but I forgot until I had already put the other ship there. They pillaged the part of my brain that remembered to put them in there. They also pillaged all my good viking jokes. Chris Browne offered to buy them but changed his mind when he saw that only my good jokes had been stolen.
My setting this time was less scripted than the one with the beach. Because of that it took much longer but looks just as mundane. How do I do it?! (sorcery)
The pile of boots was the hardest part. It’s still not quite clear what that is without prolonged investigation. Must tend to later. Probably won’t.
The boots were the hardest part to draw, I mean. Overall, that reddish thing toward the left gave me the most reason to be upset.
Yes, of course I was talking about you! That doesn’t mean you’re special.
Obviously we are collecting boots today. I don’t see how you could have POSSIBLY messed that up. Hey, fool! We are not catching fish here. And yet you caught one. You couldn’t even catch cholera by eating food or drinking water contaminated with the Vibrio cholerae bacterium, and still you caught a fish. Good job. “Good” as in “opposite of good.”
This is a first grade concept. I guess you would know that if you weren’t in the orange reading group, that’s only up to level two skillpack booklets. You probably aren’t even aware that
Knowing what I now know about what you don’t know, I would most certainly not be
I don’t know what’s dumber: that they’re deliberately catching boots or that NEMITZ is too dumb to not accidentally catch fish. And it, as usual, refuses to accept the consequences for its own incompetence. You, NEMITZ, knew you weren’t supposed to do that, but you did it anyway, and then you pouted when scolded. Bad, bad nemitz. As we see here, nemitz can NOT handle criticism. Hey, thing, you did a bad job! You can’t consistently, exclusively do things poorly, do things WRONG and expect to be tolerated.
It’s bad enough that you’re naked, but how dare you appear before me without your shading on? Disgraceful! Meet me on the battlefield!
My back hurts.
The Geico “cave men” series of advertisements depends on the viewer understanding that these people are themselves endlessly, hopelessly surrounded by Geico ads. That, to me, is the more tragic aspect of their un-relievable plight than that they can’t quite get respect as human beings. Even if they weren’t second class citizens they still couldn’t get away from Geico. And the Geico company itself has no problem with its ads being depicted within themselves as inescapable sources of dismay with no regard for the people they continually discriminate against.
TRY! Lean Pockets quesadilla. That’s awfully considerate of Hot Pockets brand Lean Pockets to plead for me to be open minded at this point, after I’ve purchased the item and removed it from its home. Always the chance exists that I will buy an item, take it out from its packaging and then decide I don’t want it. Perhaps I never intended to eat it. Maybe I have a hopeless addiction to opening boxes and non-resealable plastic bags. I could not possibly return the item for store credit at this point. Lean Pockets has already made the sale, and yet still it wants to make sure I eat something. Please, just try it. You have to eat! Just one bite, at least. Do it for me. Think of it as a science experiment. You like monoglopxide mccarbonuke, don’t you?
Here, eat this piece of my head that I just sliced out so I could have a mouth. Don’t be concerned with the fact that by the very nature of where it was, it was essentially in my mouth; I did not have one at the time. You might better devote your thoughts toward how I have terrible eyes or a nose or a body. As to how I put a shirt on over my enormous head, you are mistaken; I do not wear a shirt. I am simply badly burned across my torso. Thanks for your sensitivity, by the way. I do, however, wear flesh colored pants and gloves. By the way, Lotta Melon isn’t my actual name. It’s just some weird thing concocted to sound like “watermelon” so that the sugary drink-product I represent can hint that it is flavored in such a way. What baffles me is why I was chosen to endorse it. I don’t even know what that’s supposed to… you say my head looks like a what? How dare you!
GRABADA! I HUNGER! FEED MY RAGE! I SHALL TASTE THE PAINBOW! GIVE ME ONE GOOD RAISIN NOT TO! YOU CAN’T STOP THE EAT! THE TOOTH HURTS! I’LL SWALLOW YOU ON TWITTER! CHEW FIRST, DIGESTION LATER! IF I, WANNA TAKE A LIME, HOME WITH ME TONIGHT IT’S NONE OF YO CITRUS! YER PLUM OUTTA LUCK, YOU SONOFA PEACH! YOU GOT BIGGER PROBLEMS THAN MELONOMA!
I never could write endings.