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Hammer Time
Wednesday, May 16, 2012


I have this strange, almost overwhelming desire to hit something with a hammer.

And, no, oddly enough, I don’t mean in a violent, ‘ninja smashing’ way. I just really, really want to use a hammer and maybe, nail something together. I even got out my framing hammer. It’s sitting next to the mouse. If you hear a scream from roughly north-west, it’s because I’ve mistaken one for the other and destroyed my desk.

This, of course, is my dad’s fault.

My dad liked to work with his hands and build things. He built houses. For fun. In fact, the first three houses I lived in he built. All of us boys helped and we all kind of have a house that we consider ‘ours,’ in that we did a lot of the work on it. Mine was the ‘big house,’ ‘cause it was rather large. Though the fact that my room locked from the outside might also have had something to do with it.

Now, there was nothing wrong with my father’s predilection for construction. It was a healthy, productive hobby that he enjoyed immensely. The problem lay in the fact that we boys had to work on stuff with him.

Weekends started early and often violently, as my father enjoyed various cruel and unusual ways to get us out of bed, up to and including hot sauce in an open mouth and ice water in a squirt gun. By 9 we were out on the site, bleary-eyed and handling circular saws and nailing stuff, often at what most people would call ‘dubious heights.’

Oddly enough, we never had any bad accidents. I did have a hammer dropped on my head on three different occasions, which may explain some things. Oh, there was blood and stuff every so often, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed with swearing and duct tape.

Anyway, by the time I was sixteen, I could carpent as hard as any professional carpenter. I could carpent the hell out of a piece of wood. And, as you might have guessed, I hated it. It was often boring, tedious work that required just enough focus to keep from taking your leg off with a saw.

But yet, all these years later, I still get the rare urge to hammer something. I still have my gear: a couple hammers, my tool belt, a variety of measuring devices, and a roll of duct tape in case of injury. I can almost look back fondly on those early mornings. The crisp, cold air. The smell of sawn wood. The satisfying crack of a sixteen-penny nail sinking in with just one strong, precise hammer strike. The sudden, startled sensation of waking up with your ears ringing ‘cause your dad just dropped a framing hammer onto your head.

And then I remember why I got into the computer business: even if someone drops a mouse on your head, it’s probably not going to hurt.

Cheers,
-Jason


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In Need of Kids
Wednesday, May 9, 2012


So, I need some kids really quick. Two or three would do, preferably around 10 to 14. I don’t have a lot of money, but if anyone wants to part with theirs, I could write some really funny sentences in exchange.

In all honesty, I would go about this the traditional way, but women tend not to come near me and I don’t have time for the kids to grow up. I need them fully functional, relatively speaking, pretty much now.

At this point, you may be wondering ‘why?’ (or possibly ‘I could use some funny sentences,’) so I’ll tell you: I need free and/or cheap labor.

You see, I’ve been cooking a lot lately. If you’re a regular reader, you’ve heard the tales of fires, hockey pucks, and gasoline, but in all honesty, I’m getting better. I actually made chicken the other day and was able to eat it without gagging or having to go to the emergency room. Here’s the thing though: the cooking I do is relatively simple. I heat stuff in pans and stir occasionally, but it still generates an amazing mess.

I mean, I have to clean the pan, clean the stove, wipe the blood off the wall, squeegee the mongoose, clean the floor, get the clothes off the fan, and finally, clean the floor again. It’s a pain in the butt. However, as I was wringing out the food-flipper-thing this evening, I had a small epiphany. When I was a lad, we kids had to clear the table and clean everything after meals. Granted, we hated it and would often try to escape, but both my parents were excellent shots and after we lost Fred, we decided it was best to just do the dishes.

And hence, I need some kids. They can do the dishes whilst I recline on the sofa and take the occasional shot at escapees. Rest assured, aside from the forced labor, they’ll be well cared for. I have some of those ‘constant food’ pet dish thingies and a couple of largish cardboard boxes I can line with newspaper and old towels.

Heck, I’d even give them names, something my parents didn’t do ‘till we’d shanked our first chupacabra.

NOTE: That’s why you don’t see many chupacabras in the Monterey Bay area these days. 

Anyway, if you’ve got a few kids you aren’t using, funny sentences can be yours.

Cheers,
-Jason


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The Only One . . .
Sunday, May 6, 2012

I think I may be the only person left on the planet who has not yet seen the Avengers. I was going to go on Friday, but I was called away for an emergency clown punching. Fortunately, it turned out to be a false alarm and the clown was released back into the wild where it belonged.

Where it was promptly bitten by a mime.

At any rate, I hope to see the Avengers next weekend, before I lose all nerd credibility. I intend to fake it at work and sidestep any conversations regarding the film by pointing out that Captain America was not the 'first Avenger' as the movie ads claim. Hopefully, this alpha display of nerdity will cow the others and keep me at the apex of geekdom at the office.

Not the greatest claim to fame I know, but we all have to have something.

Look forward to new panels on Tuesday and Thursday and the usual blog on Wednesday. The weird 'really large font' problem on the site seems to have rectified itself, so things will proceed as usual.

Cheers,
-Jason


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Stumptown 2012
Wednesday, May 2, 2012


We just finished Stumptown last Sunday and we had a really good con. We met a ton of great people, as usual, and generally just enjoyed ourselves.

And I have to say, without reservation, that the Oregon Convention Center has the neatest, best hand dryers in the world. They’re hard to describe. You stick your hands in the top and then hot hair literally blows the water off your hands and then dries them.

These things are fantastic. I want one for my bathroom at home. Look at these things. They even look sci-fi-ish.

Not only that, I want a big, vertical one that I can stand in after showering. Better yet, I want one with a shower built inside so that I can hit a button and dry myself off without even getting out.

After I first used one, I went back to the table and told Leigh all about them.

“Dude!” I said. “They have these cool hand dryer things! They’re like air dryers, but they totally rock!”

Leigh looked up at me. I could see thoughts going through his head. They ranged from ‘You need professional help’ to ‘if you like it so much, you should marry it.’ Eventually, he sighed, because he remembered that he’s my business partner and this always gives him a headache.

“Sure,” he finally said and then went back to drawing.

But I had my revenge when, about an hour later, Leigh returned from a trip to the men’s room.

“You’re right!” he said. “Those dryers do rock! I will never doubt or question your sanity again, even if you claim that an evil puppet is living under your bed and trying to kill you with a tiny felt mace.”

NOTE: I just imagined that last sentence.

Dryers aside, we got to hang out with several of our con buddies, including Jason Martin of Super Real Graphics and Lee Moyer, the amazing artist who painted the cover of our trade.

I also told them about the dryers. Since they don’t know me as well, they both said something like “that’s nice” and then walked quickly away.

Their loss, I suppose.

Cheers,
-Jason


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Slightly Dizzy
Wednesday, April 25, 2012


In the interest of continued good health and not getting out of breath when I get off the couch, I’ve decided to embark upon a new diet of my own device. I call it the ‘Eat What You Can Catch’ diet.

The premise is rather simple: you can only eat things you catch. This will provide not only nutrition, but excellent overall exercise. After all, our ancestors didn’t have the luxury of just waltzing into a 7-11 and grabbing a Big Gulp and a hot dog. No, back then, they had to chase and/or find things on their own. If they wanted a Coke, they had to find a Coke tree and knock the bottles off. If it was bare or out of season, tough. I’m also assuming there is some sort of hot dog animal, kind of like a wiener with legs. And no, not wiener dogs (yes, I know what you’re thinking).

Anyway, I began my diet this last Sunday and it didn’t start as well as I hoped. I headed out shortly after I got up (around noon), armed with a broom handle with a large fork duct-taped to it. I figured the extra tines on the fork would make it easier to skewer the hot-dog animals, sort of like a trident. However, I soon discovered that the local police frown on running through the parks with a fork spear and was forced to relinquish my only weapon.

NOTE: I asked the officers if they knew the whereabouts of any hot-dog animals. They mentioned a pig-farm outside of town, but I insisted that there were little hot dogs creatures that skittered about. Oddly enough, this is when they took my fork spear away. I suspect they wanted to use it to catch the hot dogs for themselves.

This left me with little choice but to forage for food with my bare hands. The rest of the afternoon did not go well, though I did find some berries that while tasty, might have been slightly hallucinogenic. At least that’s what the trash can said.

Anyway, I decided to return home, vowing to get up early and go get something to eat. Strangely enough, I barely managed to get out of bed in the morning and stagger into work. There was a piece of burnt toast in the kitchen area, so I managed to get a few calories from that. I know, I didn’t technically ‘catch’ it, but I figured it was close enough. I later got my hands on an M&M that my one of my coworkers dropped (it was green) and with that calorie boost, I was able to make it through the rest of the day.

This morning I was very, very hungry and a little dizzy. I weighed myself and found that I’d lost several pounds, so it seemed like I was on the right track. Work was interesting, as I kept nodding off. I found a peanut in one of the conference room. I only ate half of it, so I could have something for dinner. Once I finally found my way home, I collapsed.

Realizing it was Tuesday, I mustered the energy to turn on my computer and write this blog. Hopefully, I will find more food at work tomorrow. I hear the lawyers upstairs have a candy dish out, so I might go on a raid if I have the energy.

So, hopefully, by the time you read next week’s blog, I’ll have dropped a ton of weight and be a new man. I might even write a diet book based on my new system.

Now, if only the room would stop spinning.

Cheers,
-Jason

NOTE: For those of you who actually read the blog and wonder how much of what I talk about is true, no. I am not following the diet I just described. I’m eating sensibly from all four food groups: chocolate, Coke, nougat, and sugar. In fact, I just had a delicious dinner of 3 Musketeers bars and a liter of Coke. And I’m weirdly energetic. Go figure.


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