Thrill Ride

Wow, Cootie's kittens are just flying off the shelves! Usually with one of my priceless knick-knacks in their mouths, which they then drop on my head, like little bombs.

Thank the Luck Lords, people are actually wanting to take the critters off my hands!

In other news? I'm still jobless. I've had countless strategy sessions with the other Eyeful Rejects (as I've taken to calling them) but we can't reach consensus on anything. And the stress must be getting to me, because Posture Queen pulled me aside and said:

"BLOCKADE BOY. You're a BEAUTIFUL SUPER-HERO with a UNIQUE BEARD. When you first invited us over for snacks we were BLOWN AWAY by your SMILE (on the rare occasions we could glimpse it beneath that ginormous mustache of yours) but NOW? You seem to be FADING. Storm Boy said you SNAPPED at him during BRUNCH this morning. And that makes you LESS PRETTY to me. WHERE is that Blockade Boy who DAZZLED US at the BEGINNING? You need to DIG DEEP and FIND THAT WITHIN YOURSELF, because we're starting to question WHY YOU'RE HERE."

And I hollered, "I'm here because it's my goddamn house! Why the hell are you always here?!"

So then she started yelling at me ("I BELIEVED IN YOU! WE ALL BELIEVED IN YOU!"); and Phantom Lad yelled at her for yelling at me; and Bad Apple Boy started stomping around and making all these crazy hand gestures and saying "YO, this shit is WHACK"; and Cootie and several duplicates of her kittens were all yowling because they didn't know what was going on; and Storm Boy was laughing so hard he choked on his protein bar. (But if you've observed the obscene manner in which he eats the damn things, that's not unusual.)

So I hollered for everybody to SHUT THE HELL UP. And like normal, they did. (Even the cats!) And I apologized for being snippy, even though I'm pretty sure I hadn't but I have to use diplomacy, I guess. (And I suppose I have been on edge, lately, since I broke up with most of my boyfriends because they looked exactly like me and it was freaking boring, man, so I hadn't "gotten me some" in at least fifty-two hours.)

And on the spot, in a grand gesture that is typical for me, I told everyone I was treating them to a day at Lallor's famed "Paper Dollar City" amusement park, namely at its newest section, New Jersey Country.

Well, we had a heck of a fun time, until the roller coaster got stuck. The park sent up a technician with a jet pack, to take a gander at it. He was a beautiful freakin' dream, man. Brawny fireplug type, shaved head, handlebar 'stache, and a tattoo of a dark beast skull on his neck. And I couldn't help flirting with him, and Storm Boy was flirting too, only he peppered his dialog with techno-centric engineering talk. So I won, because I speak the language of SEX, brother, and my voice is like fine-grit sandpaper against your nipples.

And sure, okay, maybe it was "bad form" for me to make love to him right in that stalled roller coaster car. But at least I gave everyone a few seconds of warning.

Meanwhile, in an Alien Fertility Clinic...

Maybe Fly Man's "twigorgs" wouldn't be "perma-locked" if he'd only go a size up in his spandex trunks!

(Mind you, I'm gayer than a Hello Kitty ice cream cake, so I personally couldn't give a shit about motility...!)

Hey, Watch Where You Point That Thing

"Awright, Pym... bend over!"

I gotta give some credit to Captain America, or U.S.A-hole or Ameridouche or whatever the hell he was called at that point: he understand that if you possess mad improv skillz, you can fake your way to sexful sophistication! Just act like what you're doing is so way-out freaky, it's the other guy's problem for not "getting it." ...Er, not that I've ever had to resort to this. I just heard it from Storm Boy. Yeah.

*flop-sweats*

Art Transplant

Guess who got his computer illustration program back up and running again?

(Hint: it's me!)

That means more slick-looking computer illustrations, and less -- if any -- watercolor-and-ink jobs. My first order of business was to draw myself, natch. I'm working on something for Dr. Tectonic, next, as well as that picture of Storm Boy in his twink-tastic new costume that I designed for him. My scanning software is still jacked-up for the time being: I can still crop to any shape I desire, but it will only let me scale to pre-set photo sizes. That's because it's a pared-down version of my original software, which is not available for the latest version of my computer's operating system ("Omnicom Vidi", as opposed to the older model, "Omnicom Expo"). WHAT'S THE POINT OF UPGRADING MY O.S. IF IT FORCES ME TO USE CRAPPIER SOFTWARE?! GAH!

*sexfully broods for about ten minutes, while occasionally emitting bestial grunts and growls*

...Where was I? Oh yeah. So my point is, I'm not sure how that's going to affect my coverage of that Batman vs. Tub story, but maybe I'll figure out something. Or not. To be honest, I was kind of getting sick of it. Maybe you guys were too. I dunno. I'll probably finish it later. But don't hold your breath. Fair enough? Sweet.

Blockade Boy: Macho Business Donkey Wrestler

On NewsRadio, "capitalist lion-tamer" Jimmy James' best-selling autobiography had been translated into Japanese, but he tried to finagle yet more profit from his book by having it translated from Japanese back into English. The result? A dadaist tome containing passages like this:

"I had a small house of brokerage on Wall Street. Many days no business come to my hut. But Jimmy has fear? A thousand times no. I never doubted myself for a minute for I knew that my monkey-strong bowels were girded with strength like the loins of a dragon ribboned with fat and the opulence of buffalo dung."

Well, I just noticed that one of my blog's recent posts was linked by a supposedly German site. Don't click on it, though. It's just a trick to advertise discount pharmaceuticals. All the ads are in English, and apparently they just randomly link to blogs to get folks to click back to their own skeevy site. The bastards. However... they translated my post into German. How accurately? Hell if I know. So I thought it would be fun to see how Altavista's Babel Fish program would translate it back into English... Jimmy James style! I was not disappointed! Let us enter "the gorilla fog" and savor the strudel-fied epic that is the re-re-translated "Becalmed Before the Storm"! (Or "Calmed Down Before the Storm" as the Germans like to say.)

"Of the diary by rainbow girl on 23 August, 2987:

everything screwed on.

The large messages? We are at random. Despite steady instructions in the opposite, Tusker found its way into the engine room. After there, it brought it finished to bury the famous doubling plutonium Espresso of a whole gallon the Bismoll the MacMattercuddy into the reactor chamber the one nuclear chain reaction caused, which has melted the core and the hauptmaschine destroyed. We run on strengthstrength strength now directly, therefore the whole lighting is darkly and also RED for no good reason except blockade boys must think that it looks at, "cools down" or something. The machinemachine machine operated by a small hand cranks, which each hour must be turned. Kind of a pain. I will for Tusker makes it to make however I are fearfully it BECAME BREAKING IT off. Oh, and I have we mentioned "to put tiefpunkt" in the gorilla fog, am distant from inhabited planets and act routes? Oh, we are rather perhaps screwed.

I snagged storm boy to help me to solve some ways in order to work the destroyed machine. But now that he is on the car, it is really kind of manisch and useless, and it cannot concentrate for beans. Each piece of the machinery which it has put its eyes on has suggested a strange and unpractical new invention to it. I wanted only the ship to have a working machine and he continued a troubling me with rhapsodies approximately banana clips that hypnotisierten electronically head in working as a lucrative miniature circus measuring ELT, or a Kombinationvakuumdudelsackpfeife, which play music, while you clean. And in the center requiring of all THAT to know Gewichtzauberer, which is appeared in a naked panic, where we kept the Brechstange. And as we it why asked, has it only at its feet down looked at and said, ' no reason ' has.

A few hours later and with very little excellent storm boy and I by the galeere for a breakfast swung. And there were Gewichtzauberer. I could tell immediately that something had operated, because he carried dresses. And it was many friendlier than usual. Normally I cannot receive two words from him. (it is of the blasierten still frosty types... which it always hangs on storm boys, and usually if I try to speak with it it either will say that nothing will grinsen at all or it, and something will whisper, boys to blocking. It provokes). Oh, and even more suspiciously, he tried to make Smalltalk. As we were old friends. But there was something around its eyes, which seemed STARTING FROM. It has bowl shocked looked at. Thus did I ask only it directly, ' where am blockade boy '?

It twitched. ' I am safe it am around here somewhere '. I have to become it asked, if blockade boy were still approximately umgestuerzt, selected starting from next highest hero. He laughed roaring reumuetig. Then it genuschelt something around blockade boy, who has, ' larger material, over to worry '.

In the moment blockade boy slammed shut by the swinging doors. It dragged itself even front on two of its best, the anmassendsten pipes. And the techno organic bug, which had stuck on its legs and dingus, had taken over its arms, shoulders, and much its Torso!

It gehumpelt, over Zauberer to weights, and they argued in calmed tones around something or other. I am rather reliably the word "dingus" used geredt approximately. I have to exist it interrupted that blockade boy goes too sickbay for a detailed investigation. Then storm boy has ME through out-burst with interrupted ' you to look HELLA COOLS down on '! It had its own expression. Kind of a surprised smile, like a child on the first day of Klordney.

It examines showed that all organic and mechanical subject, which became environment mixes itself in blocks the lower half of boys HAD DISAPPEARED everything under its waist a cavity, jointed bowl leaving. How the doll of a belly speaker! Furthermore its magnetically codpiece merged into its hook, where its dingus had been robot technical. And the remainder of it -- bone, nerve ends, courses and faechelt volumes -- tree ELT only there within its chest! In order to be honest, there is no scientific explanation for, why it blocks boys is even STILL LIVING PERSON. It is uncanny. And Gewichtzauberer did not take it well. AT ALL. Blockade boy will try to place its arm around it for support, and Gewichtzauberer to try to shake off therefore blockade boy then its OTHER arm around it place it and stop weights the arm of Zauberer it can leave in such a way there goes, and then the two of them where blocking boy will also always go in the reason of WALZER wants DANCING. It is awkward.

I do not know, what continues.

But whatever it is, it can terminate not possibly well ".

Action Sequence Coming Soon, No Kidding, I'm Totally Serious This Time

"KLUK"?! Sweet Jeebus, there's a live chicken trapped inside that gizmo! Either that, or Slasher just spent five pages constructing a Fisher Price See 'n' Say.

Hover For What You Believe In With The Angel Squad!

From the government that brought you the Marine Corps comes the next big idea in gay-friendly law enforcement! Introducing the "Angel Squad!" The Angel Squad is looking for slim-waisted young men to float gently about on individual hover-platforms while wearing designer jumpsuits and carrying what appear to be gym bags with bazookas sticking out of them! And you don't even have to be gay! (Although it sure helps.) We're targeting a wide array of people!

Are you a neatfreak germaphobe? The Angel Squad gas mask recycles air directly from your own lungs for maximum purity!

Are you knock-kneed or pigeon toed? No problem, because a design flaw in the hover-platform forces you to stand like that anyway!

Do you have puny, sloping shoulders like Clive Owen? I mean, don't get me wrong, I think Owen is kinda sexy and all, but did you see him with his shirt off in "Gosford Park?" It was truly disturbing! Put a coat on, Clive! Cover your shame! But I digress! To continue, the Angel Squad uniform disguises your fatal figure flaw with a puffy top made of drip-dry Beyonderalyne! And the hover-platform is designed to make your shoulders look perfectly ginormous!

Do you have a smooth, frictionless crotch? Well, to be brutally frank, we'd rather you didn't but we can't afford to be choosy right now so we'll take you anyway. If you insist.

Are you looking for romance? You just may find it in the Angel Squad!



So go to your local recruiting office today. A world of adventure, fashion and individual hovering awaits you in the Angel Squad!

(Disclaimer: you may occasionally be called upon to battle Godzilla.)

Lo, There Shall Come... A SALESMAN!

Who's the freak with the two juicers strapped to his back? Or is that a bra? Why, it's "Captain O!" Can you guess what the "O" stands for? ...Aw, grow the hell up. No, it's presumably for "Olympic," as in "Olympic Sales Club." This door-to-door scheme hails from the back pages of "Wonder Woman" #9 (October, 1987). That was in the olden times when children could actually be induced to perform an activity other than text messaging or downloading ringtones. Check out the kid in the center. Seems Tina Yothers has been moonlighting!

Most dated sales prizes from this page? Well, there's the AM/FM cassette player, the "type-right typing tutor" which is a stand-alone keyboard and not a computer program, the VCR College Bowl game, and the "Variflex Breaker" skateboard, which looks to be the approximate size and proportions as a TV tray. But my favorite? Something resembling a fetal version of Paddington Bear and described as a "light-activated Chubbles." I once knew a guy who had light-activated chubbles. But his doctors called it "priapism."

If a youngster from that era chanced to call the Olympic Sales Club's 1-800 number, who would answer the phone?



Um, 'kay. The other "Captain O" operators are baffled as to why Ruth insists on coming to work in that outfit. I'm sure Ruth would tell them it's for her own defense. Dennis (that creep from Accounts Receivable) likes to hang around her desk, telling vaguely filthy jokes in that three-pack-a-day voice of his, and touching her way too much. Well, next time he tries to stroke her hair, he's gonna pull back a lacerated paw, thanks to her new razor-sharp tiara! Suck it, Dennis!

I think the more likely scenario here is that "Ruth" is, in fact, a burly, tattooed prison inmate nicknamed "Claw Hammer" who's going to steal your identity for a credit card scam. But maybe I just watch too much "60 Minutes."

Finally, I'd just like to say I adore how the copy reads like it was dictated by a dying soap opera character. "PLEASE... operators can take name and address only... CANNOT answer questions... YOU MUST NOT TELL Phillipe that I am his true mother... SWEAR IT TO ME... oh, dearest Carlo, I go now to a BETTER PLACE but know that I will always... *GASP* AAAARRRRGGHHHHHHH!!!" (thunk)

Meanwhile, in the actual comic, Wonder Woman uses the clumsiest pickup line I've ever heard. See if you can find it.



OH MY GOD, Wonder Woman, you can't just go around asking ladies to show you their girdles!

Not unless it's Mardi Gras.

Rebel Without A Nose

"Also, I have these free copies of "The Watchtower" which I'd like to give to you..." The cube-headed irritant pictured above is "Starshine," a really poorly designed cyborg who served as the kind-of love interest for Rom: Spaceknight in the comic book of the same title. Y'see, when the Utopian alien planet Galador was threatened by the Dire Wraiths, they responded by drafting all the able-bodied young people into a cyborg army. For the longest time and for no good reason, Starshine was the only female among them. She's like an armor-plated Smurfette. And her head pisses me off to no end. Especially her face.

The rest of her is okay, I suppose, in a retro 1950's kind of way. Okay, except for the hands. Those look stupid. And then there's the skirt thing, which has a slit in the middle which runs way too high, affording hapless onlookers a great view of her vagina-free crotch region. I think I saw Bai Ling in one of those. But mainly it's her head and face that I hate. Let's start with the head in general. Rom's head was vaguely masculine in that it was a boxy deal resembling nothing so much as a toaster with eyes. Like David Boreanz! As the first female Spaceknight, they tried to come up with a ladylike version. So there's the completely pointless ponytail on top and a head shape that suggests a dainty, feminine chin and high cheekbones. But really, it's just a diamond shaped box. It looks like you could pry her face off, and there'd be a delicious cured ham inside. And then there's her face: a barely convex membrane with no nose, the barest hint of eyes, and a tiny, snippy little triangle-shaped mouth which is usually turned downwards to indicate dismay, or (more often) disapproval. Like so:


Later, she managed through sheer force of will to rearrange her cyborg body into something butcher and more gladiator-themed. (Physics in the world of Rom: Spaceknight were something of a joke.) Guess which part she forgot to fix.



Yep!