seriously I thought that said “July 14″ the last time I looked, which would make a July 20 update mildly punctual in my mind. What have I been doing all this time?

================================

Mxy’s famous Bizarre Webcomic now has a proper website! It is at last possible to start at the beginning rather than press “previous 10″ 97 times on the livejournal page (or just press it 47 times to find the cbz of the first 400 strips) This is a good thing, I think. Well it might be bad if you were reserving your judgment of it until you could see it from the beginning, asserting that the only reason you didn’t like it was because it didn’t make sense to you, certain that it would make sense if you could do that. Howdy, I never learned how to give compliments. I do like that comic strip, though.

Hey, hey! Calm down! You need more excitement in your life if people on the internet typing about stuff excites you. you should strive to be more like this delightful chap you evidently share a computer with

who is much more reserved and merely suffers from advertisement tourette syndrome. I think you two might get along, though, since you both seem to write post script in the same foreign language.


Do you think this place is really selling mattresses for one dollar? Or maybe just that specific photograph of a mattress used on the sign is for sale? No no, I definitely see a mattress propped against the glass, there. So if it was for sale for a dollar, do you reckon it would be a mattress at all worth having? Anybody selling a mattress that cheap is one step removed from deliberately disposing of it. In fact, this is easier because YOU take it, and then it’s YOUR problem, and you even paid for the privilege. There’s probably a dead body stuffed inside it. My operative in the field, the famed botanist Vance May informs me this location once housed a most Primo Pizza. Your business is really in the proverbial dumpster if a joint that sells mattresses for one dollar, asterisk or otherwise is not only turning a better profit than you but this is enough so that it can force you out. This is the NEW Dollar Haven. There’s another one of these somewhere. They are branching out. Soon they will be ever. First our primo pizzas, next it will be our perfect parties and our feminine barns of dresses. What can we use to combat this mattresss-marking down menace?

99 CENT POWER! Do you feel it? Do you feel it?!?!

This is so much power I’m not even going to risk getting the other senses involved. Requests to smell one’s power won’t likely get favorable results, I reckon. I prefer not to hear my power, also, because that generally means I’m almost out of hearts.

We can only ignore this problem for so long

yet I don’t want to have to stock up again so soon because I still have plenty of rubber spiders and confused computer ladies in undersized clothing left and I don’t get the discount unless I buy them all together. Dilemmas!

I thought you would sympathize with my cheapness!
 

Some mysterious person requested names of video games I stole pictures out of, and so this time they were Star Tropics and Corn Buster and you should play neither. I don’t know who the blue suit guy with the A on his mask is.

everything I want to talk about today insists on transitioning into another topic which I do NOT want to talk about, and yet I hate to waste a decent transition.

===============================================================

Generally, i am not scared of BEARS.

That’s generally, and not for my life.

Unless, however, they wear forest ranger hats, denim pants and no shirts. And also carry a shovel around. A bear may not be able to follow you up a tree, but one with a shovel can certainly swat at you. Or maybe dig up the ground around the tree so you can’t get down without injuring yourself. Why does cb radio jargon in that MAD magazine article from the 1970s that I read in a reprint once refer to the police collectively as “smokey?” Because of that frightful bear who wears the same hat. The scary police who wear brown clothing instead of blue. Is that the natural color or do they just roll around in dirt to make their clothes look more brown and rugged? I always associated that bear with the West and having your car break down on a desolate road in some horrid place and having a sheriffey fellow drive up alongside you and say “you’re not from AROUND here, are ya, son.” Not even a question! Somehow it’s an order, despite no command being issued, and you will be punished for disobeying the non-command. “You’re a LONG way from conneddiggit, BOY.”

Smokey’s not like the cartoon all stars or the ninja turduckens or Kirk Cameron*, who will plead with you to not use drugs and tell you about some fictitious abusers who had hard times. Smokey will point right at YOU and tell YOU to cut it out, lest he maim you with mining equipment. Smokey is scary and he knows it. HE’S not going to prevent forest fires, but he’s going to make you wish you had. Smokey doesn’t beat around the bush; he beats you into the ground for lighting up near a bush. Or maybe he’ll just eat you and use the shovel to dig a ceremonial grave for any bones he doesn’t fancy swallowing. There was an ad recently in which some dirtbag is smoking a cigarette and someone else TRANSFORMS INTO SMOKEY and starts leering at the smoker. Sure, this is because of the FIRE risk of DISCARDING a cigarette carelessly, but it would not be a hard transition to make for Smokey to just hate smokers in general. They’re getting a little too close to his name. Only YOU can prevent Smokey’s lunch.

I have to get a painting painted and framed by Friday. How did that have time to happen?

I like this Smokey from 1944, the year he was introduced. This one has big eyes and big ears, is putting out a fire himself and seems to almost be smiling. I’m not afraid of this one and thus he is not effective and was rightfully phased out in favor of

this wrathful oaf by the time I was paying attention. Forty years of people continuing to start fires anyway will do that to you.

To be fair, however, the same group was using Krauts and Japs to scare childrens around the same time and probably figured bringing in an angry forest beast might be excessive. Or worse, encourage kids to start more fires to burn the brutes alive. Kids these days lack the initiative to start a fire out of spite for a cartoon bear, much less go to a forest for any reason. They’ll drive to your house and murder you for talking trash about them specifically on facebook, but bears are safe.

I stole these off of the slow loading Smokey the Bear website, and I give it credit for not pretending they didn’t stereotype America’s enemies back when that was kewl. However, I’m still not linking directly to it because apparently Smokey is copyrighted and the only thing worse than setting his home on fire is cutting him off from his royalties. It’s been over fifty years by now and Smokey still hasn’t made enough money to retire.

*Kirk Cameron once starred in a drug awareness video which featured Kirk showing kids in a class room other videos of other kids turning into cartoon characters when threatened by drugs in some sort of parody or SLAM to the other drug videos but it didn’t really work because the “real” examples were considerably less entertaining and not a whole lot more plausible; those kids just said “no way man, you jerks aren’t COOL.” and that was the end of their troubles. True enough; nobody’s going to chase you down and MAKE you eat drugs for biting your thumb at them; that stuff’s expensive. They’ll probably just murder you and call it even. Additionally, In order to gain access to the kids he imposes his videos upon, Kirk outwits and outmaneuvers a bumbling hall monitor who for reasons that aren’t stated but I can fully understand does not want Kirk Cameron in that classroom. That doesn’t put us in the right frame of mind to compare fiction to fictitious reality. You might as well have brought Moraff in there.

Also, based on the online appearance of and reactions to the “nobody turns down drugs” scene from the video within the video, nobody also turns down realizing or caring that this part is supposed to be ridiculous. This clip, incidootily, was blatantly ripped out of another youtube video featuring brief strange clips from uncited sources, in which context it could be argued, due to its presence not being announced (6 minutes, 13 seconds in), this weirdness is far more effective (apart from the annoying “static” transitions, but that’s irrelevant because the person who reripped out the drug clip didn’t bother to omit the annoying fake 1970s static).

I’d like to tell you what the film is called but I forgot approximately the moment I learned it back in 1995 (and I had to watch it twice!), and Mr. Cameron may have since lobbied to have it removed from his filmo graphy. He’d much rather be known for classics like Firepoof, featuring a wicked computer screen that creates pornography to tear a marriage apart so that nothing less than Chick Fila product placement can heal the wounds.

And here, because I love to end on a depressing note, I shall mention the link currently in the upper right corner from the first clip I linked to.

Nobody turns down drugs, and nobody turns down REAL-TIME SUICIDE, either, judging by that view count. You know, that title isn’t enough! We’d better write this on the actual video in IMPACT, the world’s least sympathetic font.
I assume this is some gimmick to get people to click on a video which does not actually depict a suicide occurring. It potentially even scolds people for daring to look at it. However, the idea that the promise of video of suicide, real or not, gets one million people to watch it does not give me comfort. Even if some outrage group linked to it with “this is disgusting and should be banned but watch it anyway” that wouldn’t likely account for more than a few thousand additional views. Somebody influential has FEATURED this.

Whatever’s in the video, the real tragedy is that anybody takes this guy’s recommendation for anything.

Aye yi.

pictures in squares, Boot Club | May I have a word with you? | !

The internet hates the humidity. Once the temperature here goes over 80 degrees my connection passes out from exhaustion, which is a surprising impediment to my ability to upload junk here.

====================================================================

I don’t need Mac Tonight watching me use the toilet. Nor most people, now that I think of it.

In search of a good fake-mistaken reference for pink hands (I went with “demons”), I thought for certain, –because superheroes are inherently funny and everybody but me knows stuff about them who would thus be in position to appreciate such a mentioning– there was a DC or Marvel character who had pink gloves that I might use. Not because I remember there being one; it just seemed like there was a good chance. I didn’t find one. Not one I could pick out of a crowd, anyhow. I did come across this picture (from this page this page.) There are a LOT of weird looking goofs I don’t recognize in there, and there’s no sense in asking about them all. However…

who’s that oaf next to Wonder Woman that isn’t Superman? MAILMAN? Or is he a train ticket collector, maybe? He does an important job but he’s not a hero of intergalactic acclaim! In fact, he’s a monster for plundering and combining the DNA of Herve Villechaiz and Gary Coleman in an attempt to create an ultimate being. It’s still too soon, Mail Man! Not to mention likely to make your Jim Morrison/any actor from the 1970s clone jealous. Additionally, I used to think Jim Morrison, Van Morrison and Morrissey were the same person. They are all exhibit equally morris-like tendencies in my eyes. I would not be surprised to see them shilling for cat food.

I am also of the opinion that Plastic Man is getting a little chummy with Darkseid and Orko back there.

Oh, OH. ExcYUSE me. Are you two friends? Man, that guy’s so touchy just because the doctor who filled out his birth certificate came down with a bit of dyslexia. That’s even weaker reasoning than

Lex Luthor hating Superman forever over inadvertently making him bald –a condition easily remedied by either of these two who regularly create exact robot duplicates of themselves out of stuff they just find lying around, sometimes while in prison,– which I’m told was largely written/fired out of “canon” not terribly wrong after this story was published. Darkseid’s name is STILL misspelled, so many years later. Whenever I see his name I always think it wants to be pronounced “dark seed.” Clearly he can’t be all that evil since he keeps his bit torrent ratio up. At worst he’s a pointy 1970s roller skate.

And… I expect to be at a hotel before I get this posted so don’t be surprised if I end this without any sort of conclusion.

Hey how about that I ended up staying at the hotel before I got this out because my computer is too dumb to recognize certain types of wireless internet and I’m too dumb to know which or why and thus I now have plenty of time to give you a conclusion.

I do not always make good use of my time.

But sometimes I do.

I can't... move! | How to lose a guy in (5) days | !

I gave people cards with this site url on it. I wonder how many who actually attempted to type it out got this far on the page.

=======================================

I remember, long ago, at the ripe old age of seven years my grandplum said to me “huplix (grandplum always called me huplix)” “Huplix,” Grandplum repeated, quite redundantly I must say, “don’t say anything! I’m talking! And Huplix, it’s about time you learned to eat an Oreo.” Grandplum so set off for the vault to fetch the ancestral family oreo, when the house candle-stick-maker rushed in saying “Huplix! there’s a telegram for you! I left it outside by the lampshade. Go get it.” I did so and fetched the telegram. It was from my long lost potato, Turnip. The note read, in part: IT TIME WE SETTLED OLD GRIEVANCE STOP HUPLIX (everyone called me Huplix, actually) PAUSE I CALL YOU OUT STOP IAPOSTROPHELL SEE YOU ON THE RICKI LAKE SHOW THIS SATURDAY STOP. I immediately boarded a automobile for the Ricki Lake Show. When I arrived I only found an elaborate cone of rubble, overgrown with colorful vegetation. I searched through the plants, finding several rupees and a piece of heart but no Turnip. That was when I remembered: this was the old Ricki Lake Show. It burned down twenty years ago. The new one was across town. I quickly crossed town but discovered I was too late. Turnip had dueled without me, picking fights with several random civilians who quickly beat turnip to a fine mash mass. It was the saddest day of my life.

Hello. Today is Thursday. I am at a Hotel. I have internet and I have my computer, but not at the same time.

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another week so soon? I am making an attempt to update this for wednesday, so you can likely guess how that will go.

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Sadly, these little inexplicable smiley face things being sold yet more inexplicably in the frozen food section of Stop & Shop no longer adequately convey my emotions…



Join me as I pause and pay homage to our fallen friend, master meatsmith and former muppet sympathizer, Jimmy Dean. Our breakfast bowls become breakfast bawls.

What do you… I said DEAN. Beans are still around.

Dean, best known to members of my supposed generation for his inadvertent mention in Ma Donna’s 1990 song Vogue, which actually referred to actor James Dean, will probably continue to be known for that anyhow.

These sausages escaped from their enclosure to begin the long hard pilgrimage to

the internet so they could look at the official Jimmy Dean Brand website, only to find it either unaware or unconcerned that its namesake is dead, because he was actually pushed out of his spokesing duties which were his last personal ties to the company six years ago, ostensibly for being too old.

This guy exudes youthful appeal, though. He’s like the Nabisco Snack Fairy without the dignity or product with the nutritional credibility of Oreo Cakesters.


He’s such hot stuff that the website’s temperature management department is overworked and has to pay visitors to take up the palm frond-waving for a minute or two. Which sounds ridiculous but it’s slightly more plausible than bribing people such a pitiful amount to pretend to be your devoted follower on the internet. Not plausible at all: paying somebody to design a costume that’s not deliberately lazy-looking. The only thing more appealing than low budget ingenuity is high budget low budget imitation. Much time and effort was devoted to making this look like so little time and effort was involved. “Hey guys I should probably take my watch off for this, right? No? Because the SUN probably doesn’t… oh okay. I mean I’m just saying, because it’s actually the very thing we tell time by- alright, forget it! mumblerhubarbjusttryingtohelpmurph”



Appearing in the notorious MC Rove sketch was Colin Mochrie’s penance for this. Or maybe it was for those weird flash cartoons. Or maybe I’m the only person who doesn’t find instant emasculatory hilarity in frumpy men wearing pink skirts and so need not waste effort complaining about an obsolete advertisement series which I don’t actually think about all that much nor bear lasting resentment toward the actor for appearing in. I will say that nobody frolics into my mind as having the potential to be less intolerable in this role than this person. He surely did me a favor by not letting Greg Proops or French Stewart get the job.

For all new customers know, “Jimmy Dean” is the name of the product itself and/or the source of its meat, and given Mr. Dean’s current physical state that would almost be plausible if not for the general absence of legitimate meat matter in most frozen food. Consider that the Breakfast Bowl(s) is apparently ripping off a Kentucky Fried Chicken gimmick, –right down to the forced pluralization in the product name– a thing noted for its perceived* low quality, and also that ripoffs typically are less meritorious than that which they ripped, and that 90+ percent of the people who buy this will opt to heat it in a microwave oven without so much as considering less sog-like alternatives. I already considered it so I figured I’d inflict that thought upon you as well. For Krimpet’s sake it’s a plastic bowl in a box. Plastic bowls are for takeout food, maybe for putting chips in at a barbecue. I’m expected to provide my own fork, right? The one on the box is clearly made of a shiny metal. If I’m eating in my house I have real bowls I can use, too.

*granted, all these perceptions are my own and they are as close as I have come to actually eating the things I am talking so much bowl-filler about. The thing I’m using to support my unverified claim is just another unverified claim of mine. I additionally ought to disclose that I am fairly fond of Stouffer’s stuffed peppers, which also come in a sealed plastic bowl in a box in a freezer. However, the bowl is not given top billing.

And this! Hello again. If ‘the morning fade’ was a real thing that you didn’t make up, you wouldn’t have been able to trade-mark it, O Deanco. It sounds more like a mysterious ultimate villainous entity or invading force from some bad fantasy movie, particularly when you order me to fight it with a special enchanted apparatus named after a former legendary hero. Young traveler, as the one chosen by the Snack Fairy Sun Pixie only you can take up the Sausage of Jimmy Dean and venture forth through the lands of Hangover to do battle with The Morning Fade! Meanwhile, “choose your breakfast” seems like a threat somehow. I’ve been challenged and in the typical insincere show of gentlemanly decency by one who intends to see another done in this is meant to be my last choice in life. This town ain’t big enough for the both of us, son. Choose yer breakfast. It won’t do ya a lick a good, pardner. My pancake-wrapped-sausage on a stick sez you die at sundown. And if you eat it you’ll die sooner.

Why eat right when there are so many other directions to choose from?

I have one of many headaches. I am going to sleep.

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page 9 (scroll down!) of that. I’m always looking for a way to speed things up. I’m always failing, to, too. It won’t be necessary to remind me never to try this way again because I’ll remember.

No, actually, I just remembered that I’ll forget. I should have reminded you to remind me sooner.

Also, I realized I ought to have made a better/any plan for this whole “remake” business and rearranged events so that no memory scenes were necessary, because they’re awkward and unprofessional. However, I do not believe that I did. That is to say, you can be sure that when I make them they will be awkward and unprofessional. I like to think this way is less jarring than the old way, but I also like to think I’m less likely to get hearteriosclerosis because I eat boring and chewy Kashi cerealdirt instead of corn flakes like I used to even though I still eat just as many hot clogs. As for lope(the lizard)’s ridiculous automobile, it’s in just one frame here so there’s still time to not get around to redesigning it into a more visually appealing and practical-looking thing whose drawing process is in any way logical.

Evidently I was not done wednessing and missed my imaginary deadline again. Neither of us was surprised.

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Wednesday: I did so much wednessing yesterday that I had no time to update this website. If only I’d known it was just Tuesday then. Whoopth.

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Do you remember when I said I am one of the most boring people in the world? No, of course not; it was so boring it could not possibly be remembered.

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After overwhelming public demand, which I ignored, here is my own incest story:

Once upon a time Hansel and Gretel lived together in a house in the forest. The end.

===========================================================

Treat a child as though he’s already the person he’s capable of becoming. I thought, that makes sense. I wish more parents and producers of fictional and/or ostensibly educational media would acquire such an attitude. Stop condescending to your target audience’s basest comprehension and maybe they won’t insist on eating fruit snacks named after their favorite brand of farm machinery. Show them some respect.

However…

I don’t think the proper place for this message is the inside of a public restroom. Nor the outside, for that matter. “You may only be twelve years old, but yer a MAN to ME.”

And so I propose we train our children to become killing machines.

I wasn’t intimidated until you clenched your fists.

Thankfully there is an entire section in some stores devoted to the purpose. America must be the greatest country in the world to have invented the plastic helmet aisle. The only thing stealthier than a ninja is a shiny one that clunks a lot. The plastic helmet and assorted armaments aisle, ah yes. Unlike normal munitions, which have a history of exploding when fired upon themselves, these just deform and produce toxic fumes. So they’re safe. And they’re discreet about it. Apart from being brightly colored and shiny and clunkity, I mean.

I had been under the impression that one of the factors in the effectiveness of terminators was that nobody could tell they were murderous cyborgs, because they disguised themselves as humans, but realistically, I suppose when you’re a nigh indestructible machination of death it doesn’t much matter how well you conceal yourself among the puny frail beings it is your goal to eliminate. A human disguised as a cyborg makes a lot more sense.

Incidentally, despite nearly eight years of more or less regular updates I still apparently type things, “cut” them to paste elsewhere and then forget to do that, but not to ’save’ the document I cut them out from. In this case of jokes about predators-of-children, however, it may merely have been an intervention by the decency fairy. However, it’s not an effective defense, because I sometimes remember what I wrote the first time, and in any event I’m getting this stuff from all sides:

Well I’m certainly not going to PAY you for my FREE incest pics, regardless of how mature and responsible they are. I’m also not interested in incest content that does not depict interfamiliar dealings. It seems wrong somehow.

At LAST, the sequel to

As usual, George Lucas makes us wait and doesn’t give us quite what we expected.

Also, as long as you’re here, with all this confusion about, don’t forget to wash the hand part of your hand.

(Blue plastic arrows appear courtesy of the Fisher Price acupuncture kit) We’ve seen the sort of visitors this area attracts. I really think the maintainers of the facility could stand to discriminate against demons, though.

Go on, gyit. Don’t give me that face. You know you’re not supposed to be here. You’re not washing off that glowy green stuff in MY sink.

how did this take hours to do?, scrollneldos | How to lose a guy in (2) days | !

Wednesday: I forgot this was here again.

==================================================

Hey ham, this here is the first part of the First Beet of the Year the flash cartoon. It’s better than my other two flashy attempts but I suspect the more I say about it the less impressive it will seem.

I didn’t make one of those “loading” timers because I forgot to and I’m tired of this thing, and most people have broadband internet these days, I’m told, anyhow. If you don’t, I suppose you should wait a minute or so after pressing the link it before starting it.

In four years I haven’t been able to improve the singing too much, sadly. Everyone in the cast should be fired. And then I realized that they were all me and that I’d still need one around to upload the thing, and if I could fire them that would mean they were employed and I’d probably need to pay them.

The reference to “bimshwel.com” may seem totally unnecessary, given that I’m there now posting this and that there is not another similar thing at this location which an interested party could look up, but you know what, you’re no fun. I long ago had delusions of viral supremacy, for which such identifiers would be helpful, but now I’m merely so old that think I might forget my own email address.

I can’t even make the link work, since, to its credit I suppose, the most recent Adope Flash players don’t allow url links in the things unless the user specifically allows them.

However, it informs user of this in such a sinister way that anyone would think I’d embedded plague in the bimpy thing somehow and I don’t need people thinking I did that any more than they themselves require plague. Also, clicking on “settings,” rather than opening up an actual “settings” menu, just sent me, ever the curious traveler, to the adobe website, which had even more broken flash junk on it that I would need to personally tell noscript, a totally different thing, not to block. And then I’d have to restart my internet machine, find the stupid video again, and then press the link in it again, which I can’t imagine a single person doing. Even less than I can imagine somebody clicking on it the first time. Boy, howdy.

How are you today?

page 39 (scroll down!) of this. The physics of the technique on display here don’t check out at all, but it was funny in my mind.
I’m still trying to figure this “ink” thing out. Likewise, I’m still not doing that. It’s getting more elaborate, but not any faster, clearer or easier. In fact, this actually looks worse with the way I color stuff than immediately after I scan it [four times, once from each corner and then reassemble the pieces]. Whoopth.
Also, the time has been two years since I last drew Rabivmip, (if we don’t include that one frame with the people running through the hall way, since I forgot about it) even though that was only 19 pages ago. What is wrong with me? The answer: something is wrong with me. I’m trying to be more outgoing and affable, so what’s wrong with you?

Also, when I referred to the Disney Robin Hood as “the movie that probably turned more kids of this generation gay than any other,” I had written that specifically to amuse myself and meant to remove it, I merely forgot to. I fully acknowledge that it doesn’t make sense. I could say it turned them “furry,” but that’s not generally regarded as a major social demographic and the word isn’t as funny to say people “turned” into it. This is worth acknowledging, also, because I tend to have a big problem when people get all homophobic or apparently so up in the general vicinity of my business and I don’t think I have established my position, to myself or anyone else clearly enough that AGHRRRRRRR I’VE BEEN CASHEWED

===========================================

and I am back from my outing.

speaking of backs…

OH NO! BAXTER STOCKMAN!

As for where I went,

“Safety” as in me not feeling compelled to search through the 514 pictures I took for sequential usable material, since I’m no good at that stuff these days.

There’s danger everywhere. And this wasn’t even “there;” I saw this near the train station after I got back to New Haven. Be vigilant!

There was a series of these but I assumed, erroneously, that they were blatant and stupid enough for somebody else online to have cataloged them already

Ooh, that thar be the golden gate bridge. I get it, I know where I am now. I must be in a hokey disaster movie.

I just hope the people I was visiting got home safely! It’s more fun to watch this stuff on television. Hey, maybe they should



Take the express to tasty! I think that’s what that says. I know it’s in San Francisco, but “take the express to teste” seems like it would be considered a bit crass. It is a city populated by real people, not tacky movie stereotypes. All the same I choose not to ponder the composition of the white fluid there.

No no, do not go there!

I’m pretty sure this is a JAIL.

Don’t you know, razor wire (which is a genericized trademark) is not for train stations…

It is for playgrounds. You’ll be surprised to know that this is also actually in New Haven.
Also, do not confuse the fence topping-material with barbed wire; barbed wire came to prominence as a way of deterring domesticated animals from leaving enclosures. Razor wire’s sole purpose is to maim humans.


Oh, OH. Excuse me for KNOWING stuff.

life on the street, ehhh, dopes | How to lose a guy in (4) days | !