Wednesday, January 26, 2005

I wanna make a web comic!

I do. I really really do!
But there are so many problems to overcome, and when I think of them, I get all sad inside.
What's my comic going to be about? Some people that hang out? Monkies? Robots? Will it be realistic? Fantasy? Sci-Fi? Just oddball?
See? Crazy ass choices. And can I avoid all the clichés? Basically I'm starting out with two guys. Thats right, a buddy comedy. Which, as you would guess, is about as cliché as it gets. The thing is is that it works, and for the humour I want to do it fits best.
Okay, so now we have a very vague outline of what my comic is. But who are these buddies and what do they do?
Do the sit around and play video games? FUCK NO! The interent web comic community has beaten that goddam horse so bad that you'd swear is was brown Jello. How about D&D geek humour? Naw. It hasn't been beaten to Jello, but its getting there. So I'd say I'm safe with starting it out as just two people who do shit.
Are they roomies? Thats an easy out. You don't have to keep explaining why one is always at the other's house if they're roomates. Also I hate it when people just walk into other people's houses. Like on sit-coms where they just barge through the door. That drives me bugfuck. Knock you asshats.
Okay so maybe they're roomates. How old are they? What do they do? School? Jobs? Unemployed? Urrnnnn.... I dunno. Just out of school with jobs. And none of that office humour shit. "Oh, I sit in a cubicle and my computer crashes!" Fuck off. Hard manual labour, thats what they do. I'll probably make one a shipper/receiver because thats what I do so at least I'll know what I'm talking about.
Who are they? With a buddy comedy thats easy. Funny guy and straight man. Maybe a bit broader than that, but its a start. Neither of them will be a representation of myself. I'm saving myself for the hillarious pirate character.
And I have to think up names. Ugh. Uhhh.... Neil and.... err... Okay, we'll hammer that out later.
And what of adventures will they get up to? I've got many a plot-line in my head so I'm okay right there. The problem is one of the best ones is VERY Canadian-centric and the last thing I need is to have nobody read my comic because they're American and don't understand why Jean Chrétien trying to over-throw Paul Martin with the aid of the reserected John A. McDonald is funny. And it is funny. Hoo-boy.
And what kind of humour? High-brow. Intelligent. We're talking Wayne and Shuster here, folks. And as many puns as I can think up. No crass-stoner shit in MY comic.
And if I DO make my comic, how often do I want to update it? 3 times a week? Daily? Scary stuff. I have to pick my schedule and STICK to it, or else I'll look like a putz.
How do I draw it? No sprite or cut and paste stuff. Ugh. I'm thinking of hand drawn, and then scanned, cleaned up and publish.
And finally:
What the hell do I call it?
I have no idea.

This is only scratching the serfice. Think think think.

-Jeff, sitting in the dark because his light bulbs blew.

Wednesday, January 19, 2005


I love snow.
Its snowing outside right now. A beautiful drifting light dusting kind of snow. The snow that covers everything in a few centemeters of glorious whiteness and hides the dirt and grime of the city. The big fluffy flakes that seem to absorb sound and make the world so quiet and peaceful.
Maybe tomorrow morning the trees will have all iced over, and their branches will be awe inspiring sticks, frozen in glass, mesmerizing me as I pass by. Hopefully it will turn into packing snow and I'll make a snow ball, smoothed down to the most perfect circle that I can manage, which I will then throw high into the air and watch as it makes a round dent in the ground.

And then I'll get to work and have to listen to all of the Ass Hats that hate the snow. Ass Hats. How can you hate snow?

And then the snow will start to melt, and it will turn into brown sludge. The sidewalks and roads will be stained slate grey by salt. I'll get water in my shoes and slip on ice.

The earth looks its best when its covered in snow!

-Jeff, snow lovin' Pirate

My girlfriend's socks have broken my brain

You know how socks go, right? One big tube of fabric, like a mitten for your feet? Well yesterday my girlfriend went out and came home with the reality bending socks from another dimension. Its not that they're large and striped that bother me, its that they have individual toes. Like gloves. Five little piggy pockets on each one. And now, whenever I look at her feet and I see socks. Socks mean foot mittens.
But then I see toes.
Nothing in my life experiences can account for 'socks' and 'toes' in one image and my brain literally does a double take.

"Scuse me, Jeff. Its your brain here. Listen, I know your tired, and I know its late, but we just want you to check something out. Your girlfriend. She's wearing socks, right? Okay. That's what we thought. Now, listen carefully: Can you see individual toes? Yes? Jeez. Umm... listen... we don't have anything on file about this... and we think it defies some kind of law of nature. We'll get back to you as soon as we can figure something out."

I find that lately my brain hasn't been working properly, crazy socks or no.
I find I'm having a very hard time thinking of anything creative. Like right now I'm really struggling to figure out how to put all of this into words. I never had this problem before, I used to be able to do all kinds of things. Example: Over on my bookshelf is a ten page comic I drew almost two years ago. It is very simple, each page has 10 mini-comics in it, and they're all badly drawn- just a step up from stick people. The point, however, is that the story is great. Each comic still makes me laugh or smile and for the life of me I can't figure out how I was so cool back then. I tried duplicating this comic thing last night, but to no avail. I drew the panels, drew one pointless character and then.... nothing. No ideas, no inspiration, no hilarity to ensue. And its really starting to bother me. I'm part of an art-challenge group over on deviant art, and for the first challenge we have to make a one page comic about a Ninja that REALLY likes ice cream. I'm given the damn premise, and I still can't think of what to do. All I can manage is to draw a page of ninjas and write 'ice cream' every once and a while.

Maybe its stress. Its probably stress. I'm really stressed out most of the time. Arg. And depressed. And the fact that I cannot create is making me more stressed and depressed.

Hey! That rhymed!
I'm a poet, and I didn't know I was one!
At all.


Stick a fork in me, I'm done.

-Jeff, Oddly Uncreative Pirate

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

I really hate the word 'Blog'

No, really, I do. Its the craziest stupid name in all web-dom. Blog. Ugh. If the old Bat Man TV show had visual soundeffects for every time some one threw up, it'd be... BLOG! You dig?

The internet has created so much good for the human race, but, as with all things, so much bad. Its seedy underbelly is a haven of terrble-ness. Hell, even its overbelly is pretty damn disgusting. I've tried to join so many forums and the whatnot but have been completely put off by the amount of utter moronicness of the other participants.

On-line games hold no magic for me for the same reason. How can people be this ignorant? I dunno.

Thats it for now.

-Jeff, Very Mighty Pirate

Cripes on TOAST!

My legs hurt! Tell me, my imaginarey online audience, do you know how it feels to drag 5 roughly 500-1000 pound skids up an incline of about 25 degrees? I do! It hurts! And sometimes I get this weird tingly sensation in my left wrist. I really hope they get me an electric pump lift. Or as my District manager once said: "Electric Jigger." Which made me think of some kind of robotic dancing machine. Like that real old Jackson 5 song. I loved the video to that one because it had an animated sexy robot lady.

Anyways. The skids just keep getting bigger and heavier, and i just keep getting more and more tired. Its too much for one man to take. Or me, for that matter.

Well, thats all I can think of right now. Sorry I didn't say anything mind blowing. Catch you later.

-Jeff, Mighty Pirate