Late Night WebComic Review: Dyson's Creek

Okay, well today i decided that i wanted to be a bit suicidal and spend most of it finding images from a huuuuuge database of old Mad Magazines which apparently has some crazy stuff with which to reappropriate. Although i was able to get some nifty things, I have completely damaged my brain and body in the process. You see, i haven't owned or been in a house that has had a computer in over a year and a half so i haven't been able to have this much free reign to a computer in ages and guess what? THINGS CHANGE ALL THE DAMN TIME!! You'd think that progress would just slow down once in a while, huh? Not that I'm complaining because I love free Wireless Internet more than sliced bread and now can't live or sleep without my laptop glow somewhere present. I hope that this is just a faze but from what i've seen of friends and family, it just gets worse.

So, because my mind just can't get enough of this even though my hands certainly have, I'm here to present a plug towards one of the greatest and most innovative comics on the web (this is certainly not solely in response to the artist listing my webcomics in his links page....but I am gracious nonetheless): Ned C. Hugar's Dyson's Creek.

Most important thing to do today: go here immediately: dysonscreek.comicgen.com
I'm freaking serious! Do it! My words aren't enough, so get a good feel for it and THEN come back and hear what i have to say. Don't worry this post will be here when you're finished wiping the tears of laughter from your face...

Have you gone yet?...

Are you sure you've read enough (i.e. all of it)?...

Now I'm going to evoke the honor system here and trust that you have read the comic in review and begin my short and insomniac analysis...

In the beginning:
(*Note: Blogger is being a Bastard soooo...no pictures...hmmm..well since you've already have read them [YOU HAVE HAVEN'T YOU?!?!] i guess i'm going to go t plan b and tell you a story)

I stumbled upon Ned's comic waaaaaay back in November of '04 and was immediately enamored by it. I seriously loved it. I was in a weird state in my life, of course i'm often in a weird state, continential or otherwise, and had this prediliction to rub my psychic juices into anything that resembled the carefree attitude i associated with my own persuasions towards certain individuals. i apologize for the vagueness but certain folks have already leaned on me about the content and how it refers to the ominous 'I'. Anyways, after much tracking down of an email attached to his name, I sent Ned a fan (cough)love(cough) letter as clumsy and convoluted as this paragraph, calling him 'Ed' throughout. Lonely Nerd boys should be on their leashes at all time and closely monitored to prevent lewd behavior such as this. His first thought was probably, 'Who the Fuck is Ed?' Of course if he's reading this, he's probably thinking, 'He still has these emails?!' I'm an electronic packrat.

Finally, I did something smart and signed up for a subscription to his comic. Using a nondefunct email address he sent the current subscribers an email explaining how there were going to be more comics and not to worry our pretty little heads...he didn't say pretty little heads but i like to thing that i have one. I checked the scene out and found that he only had eight subscribers! At first, I was pissed off that so few people would recognize how unbelievably awesome his comics are, but as the years have gained me a little more wisdom and patience and i'm listening to less death metal, I've come to be proud that i was one of the first eight. Later when he's all rich and famous and everyone is wearing his teeshirt and listening to his albums I can be all like: "Hey man! I was one of the first Eight! You're Just a Poser! I was there when he was making webcomics in coffeeshops! You can touch me for five dollars if you want!"
And then came the drunk email:
Such highlights include: "Ignore my mispellings and typos i'm a bit drunk and it's a bit late but i just got your awesome email and it's totally righteous." and "My neck hurts from headbanging to impress girls...last thing i do for them...hopefully i impressed a few men as well." and who could forget "You're like my hero and stuff." and "how old are you and junk?" and the memorable "my dog is visiting me now...i wish i had a cat..." or "cuz it's like you're an inspieration to the La Revolution or something like that. Not really cuz i don't have a La Revolution quite yet and yeah... ...drunkety drunk drunk."
The next morning i had a terrible hangover.

and in my inbox was a letter from Ned:
"....
This is the BEST email I've ever gotten."

That's the kind of guy Ned is. That's Why his comics are so amazing. He could've ignored me or just told me off like i deserved...but NO! He's a SWELL GUY! From this email exchange we ended up becoming like penpals for awhile, going back and forth with crazy stories and doodle. And then i got lazy and didn't reply and then we kind of just drifted on with our lives like what happens in all though subtly depressing movies where everyone kinda hates it but knows its the 'way its gotta be'. why do movies have to be so sad...lets hear a positive middle class life story for once okay?!

But once i got this laptop i checked out his improved site and i'll be damned if my website wasn't listed under 'Friends of Dyson's Creek'...sniff...it made me feel gushy...really...

and so the little platypus ended up getting the one wish he wished most of all: a webcomic friend. So as a friend of Dyson's Creek and of Ned C. Hugar, I say, thanks Ned...and keep going.

and for you jerks who didn't read the comics yet, you'll be filled with flaming peppers if you don't do so immediately. here's the link again: dysonscreek.comicsgen.com

That's Reapropriate!

Having Fun with Some Images off the Back of some Old Comics...

Confessions of a 97 pound weakling!

So this one day I was just toodling along on the beach with my briefcase full of comic books and computer parts because i needed to get some important work done! I decided to wear shoes as well because you just don't know what you may step on out in the sand: like crabs and pricklers and maybe someone's used hypodermic needle because i saw this documentary once about junkies and how they don't care where they shoot up these days. What is this world coming to? Luckily there are people like me who plan on fixing everything and know how to think for themselves and don't need drugs to change their lives and get friends and have sex. One of these days those chatroom women who claim i'm a '$tud' will take my offer to bus them to me and then we'll see who's laughing! Take that druggie freaks! The other reason i was wearing shoes was to show off my new brown socks, all the rage in Finland i've read on the internet. Yes, i was feeling mighty confident in myself!
That's when i noticed a musclebound jerk with two women basically attached to his biceps. A strong urge to mope swelled within me but i fought valiantly against it, deciding instead to try and allure one if not both of the women away with my superior intellect. However, as i approached the oaf got in his quip first (as seen in an artist's portrayal above). Not allowed to colloquialize my charismatic nature to the scantily-clad females without uncomprehension on their part, i sauntered away plotting another rout to which i could garner their attention.
It was not much later that i espied the lustful ladies coming towards me, probably heading in the direction of the port-a-johns erected near the entrance of the beach. Using tactical wit, i was able to get ahead of them, putting on the guise that i was to purchase some ice cream from a stand in the same general location, yet not so far ahead of them to be unable to catch snippets of their convesation. [note drawing]----->
I was stunned! Not only were they unattracted to my superb physique, but they somehow learned my name! Was there a mass conspiracy plotting against me within that elusive world known as the Feminine Kind?! Was the name of Roger Plotznik just a smear on the charts of social standing and why wasn't I informed years ago about this predicament? Better yet, why hadn't the incalculable power of my mind picked up on such subtley scathing vibrations passing between the lips of society? Dejected, I made a solemn vow never to set my sock-and-shoed feet upon this turgid ground ever again! And never again shall i gaze longily upon those of the opposite sex outside the comforting domains of internet pornography, whose models perform their multi-stylized sex acts specifically for social outcasts such as your most humble and putrid narator! Woe to see your hero in such a state!
Fear not, though, for as i was about to plunge myself into the soiled pits of the ethernet, tears dropping onto my laptop, a strange and mystical spector appeared in the air! It was none other than the beacon of masculinity and transformer of the mundane himself, the floating bust of CHARLES ATLAS!!!
"O great CHARLES ATLAS!" I cried tears of disbelief! I thought he was just some rough cut and paste job those hacks in the advertisement business did to sell crap to impressionable youths, not an actual demi-god! "Teach me the ways of your work out manuels so that I will no longer be a shrimp!"
"BUY MY BOOKS, PISSANT! BUY THEM OR I WILL KICK SAND IN YOUR FACE!" HE demanded. "AND AFTER THE SAND-KICKING I WOULD EAT YOU, PROBABLY! I WOULD HAVE TO WASH YOU OFF, CUZ LIKE WHO EATS THINGS WITH DIRT ON THEM? LOSERS AND GEEKS, THAT'S WHO! NOT ME! CUZ YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!?"
"Why you're CHARLES ATLAS!" I replied with quivering awe.
"YOU BETTER FREAKING BELIEVE IT, YOU LITTLE JERK! LICK MY NOSTRILS AND RECIEVE MY BLESSING! DO IT!!!" I would like to think that if he had fists, he would have been shaking them.
After tasting his divine boogers, my body started to ache all over. My back started cracking and elongating; my muscles surged with blinding pain, my genitals shrunk, and my jaw became a box made of cardboard, all while HE was laughing maniacally. The torturous transformation took about five hours to complete, but afterword I found myself a venerable hulkling! I decided to go back and teach that bastard festooned with woman a lesson for making fun of me! Boy, i thought, will he be surprised. It took me an hour to walk the couple hundred feet to where he was sitting due to the fact that i had to now compensate for five hundred pounds of muscle. But when i finally got there...
I made up some stuff about a bag of bones....but like god man i was so pumped, i could feel muscle replacing my brain i think. And one of dem chicks was so impressed she called me a He-Man cuz that's what i becomed ..huh huh... yet she called me Joe, so i was like why be Roger Nobodyski anymore...from now on I be Joe Cockburn! Yeah, i used to be skinny..but now i's gots muscles even in my ears! Life good..sex much...thanks floaty head CHARLES guy..thing. Where's my beer? That witch better have gots it from da store like i's told her! Time to go clean my gun, cuz it has replaced my junk due to it disappearing like poof. ... ... ... get outta my house!! Huhuhuh!
(Joe Cockburn i.e. Roger Plotzski is currently on display at the Museum of Natural Freaks right next to the Platypus. Museum hours are 2-8p Monday through Friday. 1-5 on Saturdays and closed Sundays.)

A quick chat with the Nighty Knight

Danger lurks behind every corner of every street of every block of every city of every country of every world...best to just walk down mainstreet, i guess. The handle's Bat-Maloy and i'm here to take on this danky dark doomness of a town with gritted teeth and grinded teats (Robyn Jr. was in his 'Jackalope' mood last night: soy sauce everywhere.) I'm not usually as angry as i am in this photo, i'm not even exactly sure when and where it was taken. Are those buildings behind me? Is that black slush falling from the sky? And i haven't worn that bespeckled cape since my days when i used to cut up the rug with Dance Devil back at the hottest nightclub in town, the Dog Juice. It's a bottomless pit now in the middle of a vacant lot...things come and go too quickly it often seems. I used to come quickly as well until Robyn Jr. and I started going to yoga class. Let me tell you, i can't believe how relaxed i find myself. No more lowerback ache or constipation. And wouldn't you know, even though i tried to run away as much as i could, my boy wonderful has gotten me to see the merits of a vegetarian lifestyle. Seriously, i've never felt better. My whole body feels as fresh as the food i eat. ( thank Od for the farmers' market, eh?) True story: Cat-Linda was over at my dugout the other day and couldn't stop remarking about how healthy i looked! Maybe we'll be able to start dating again...i saw that twinkle in her eye that i haven't seen since we broke up years ago. And you won't believe this but I'm smiling more and more!!! Like i think i did it at least five times yesterday! Linda noticed that as well! Of course, i'm going to have to talk to Robyn Jr. about this, allowing for 'team-ups' in the bedroom and such. He's been in a kink kick lately so he should be down. This is soooo exciting!
but for right now i've got to get back on patrol. i stopped in this posh coffee house and had a bubble tea! you ever had one? Heavens above, it's unbelievable. Anyways, this place offered WiFi connection for customers and since i carry my 'notebook' with me everywhere these days to capture all those random thoughts, i felt like i had to say something i'm so giddy. And this place seems to cater to all of the social life i've met from being a 'cult celebrity' as that zine called me once: Wanda Wymyn, Jack Curr, Spider Dan, Riker Espanol, Tom SeLack, and my goodness is that Night Arrow?!? It is!! Well i absolutely must talk to him. Time for my exit narrative.
Scumbags smell like raw sewage to me when they invade my territory. Guess i should go tell them a 'terror story!' That'll show them!

this is simply the beginning of the middle inbetween two chocolate wafers...

soon there will be more...much much more.... but for now: a cruddy paint image of the artist with mr. happy sun! we both shop at the same lopsided sunglasses store! he wishes from now on to known as bruce, by the way. thank you bruce for so many veggies and fruits and also for light so that i can see and allow me to look cool in sunglasses. the red blotches on my face are actually there as is the lack of ears. i'm a freak. but fred doesn't care. he has no ears to hear my cries of despair...nor can i. i'm also standing on cement! neat huh? it's like life you know? cement...made up of different rocks that are cold and unfeeling. but i step all over them...sometimes i dance. but like sad jigs. yep. i've got comics for everyone..but you should all go to my already in power webcomic at www.xenex.org/comic.php and check out all the other neat things that mr. Xen has on his site of goodness! this is just gonna be the place where i talk about what i post there and where i post things that i wouldn't post there...like this image...and these words..wordy words of infinite wordyness....also i'll be in direct contact with my good buddy galactic phil! you'll be able to see his adventures here! along with samuel beckett attacks! so much peach jam you'll shake a stick!
okay macaroni time! play it again sam!
...sam?