Bang your head against the wall.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
I've decided to take this personally. There's no other way to do it. If they think they can do this to me, they are sorely mistaken, and if they think I'll just accept it and move on, they've got another goddamn think coming, I will tell you that.
Look, I'm a reasonable guy, and it really does take a lot to get me upset. (Sort of.) I can suffer through most of the shit that life throws me with good humor and the occasional curse word. But there is a line. And when you cross that line, you open a Pandora's box that you have no hope of closing. Today... someone crossed a line.
The new Ghostbusters comic is a piece of fucking dog shit.
If you've talked to me for... oh, let's say more than eight minutes, you will know of my deep, unabashed love for Ghostbusters. Ghostbusters 1 is my favourite movie. Ghostbusters 2 is flawed but wonderful, and the animated series was actually really good EVEN WHEN WATCHED TWENTY YEARS LATER. Take THAT, GI Joe, Transformers, and My Little Pony. Hell, the animated series was influential in developing the sense of humor I have, and my ongoing facination with monsters. Finding out that Ghostbuster was not a legitimate job decision proved to me that dreams really don't come true, and you should find something soul crushing, easy and blameless. And I learned that when I was five! When the Ghostbusters video game finally comes out (AND IT FUCKING WILL!), I plan to disappear into my room and never be seen again.
So when the new Ghostbusters comic from IDW was announced, I was excited.
They tried doing a Ghostbusters comic series a few years ago during the 80s revision phase (as far as I can tell, only GI Joe and Transformers really survived that.). This was back in... I wanna say 2002, 2003. Everything from my childhood and yours was being adapted into modern "gritty" comics for a quick buck. Ghostbusters was picked up by some independent company called 88 Miles (I think. I dunno, maybe they were planning on doing a Back to the Future comic. It woulden't have surprised me.), and I eagerly awaited it. A new Ghostbusters ongoing comic. Thanks Jesus! So it came out, and I bought it... and it wasn't terrible. It was heavily influenced by the movie, the guys looked close enough to their movie counterparts, (Honestly, not that big a deal. Have you seen Cartoon Egon? He's blonde!) Ray smoked, Slimer wasn't in it (THANK FUCK) and it all basically got the job done. Okay, it was set in the year 2000, and Venkman was bragging about banging Cameron Diaz (Ghostbusters in the year 2000? Are you kidding me? You take a quintessential 80s movie like Ghostbusters and set in 2003? Fuck you. Ray does not own a cellphone, Egon does not use an imac, and Winston DOES NOT HAVE ANY FUCKING BLING!), but I got passed that to a semi decent comic. Honestly? I was happy there was just more Ghostbusters. That was a dream that had faded. If Ghostbusters 3 actually gets made, let's face facts. It's going to be garbage. The guys are all old, and Bill Murray has repeatedly stated that he won't appear in a new Ghostbusters flick unless Venkman gets killed in the first fifteen minutes. So... y'know, fuck that. Of course, it's also his fault I can't get any movie action figures, so fuck him too.
I think I'm losing the plot again. Oh yeah.
The new Ghostbusters comic is STILL a piece of fucking dog shit.
The cover is distractingly beautiful. Great shot of the guys. The interior art is... just... really bad. Ray has a trendy hairstyle. Look, Ray was played by Dan Ackroyd. Dan Ackroyd ACTUALLY believes in ghosts. Dan Ackroyd hasn't looked trendy in his life. Dan Ackroyd didn't look trendy when he was doing blow off of Jane Curtin's tits in the early seventies. Anyway, we're launched headlong into the Ghostbusters on a case hunting the Ghost Mafia.
The. Ghost. Mafia.
So the guys bust in on a meeting between the Ghost Mafia (No La Cosa Nosferatu jokes yet, thank Cthulhu.) and the Ghost Yakuza, bust some ghosts, afterwhich Venkman is possesed by a spectral gangster (*sigh*). Venkman's soul is ejected from his body, and floats around being snarky. This would be a fairly characteristic reaction for Peter Venkman if he HADN'T JUST BEEN THROWN OUT OF HIS FUCKING BODY AAARGHH AAAGHH AHG!!!
Sorry. I'm better now.
Meanwhile, the spectral gangster has been making demands of the rest of the Ghostbusters. Specifically, let the mob guys out of their traps. Winston has an alternate solution: decking Venkman, a technique practiced by impatient exorcists for centuries. This effectively knocks the spirit out of Venkman's body, leaving an empty shell, which the guys load up and take back to the firehouse. After putting his still-living body to bed, the guys order pizza. Meanwhile, the ghost that Winston decked out of Venkman meets with the heads of the Ghost Mob Family (You will not cry, Rowbotham. You will soldier on. You will be a man.), and ORDERS A HIT ON THE GHOSTBUSTERS. The Ghost Gangster lures the Ghostbusters outside, (this is accomplished by repossesing Venkman's body, having it steal some pizza and then go outside.) and the guys find themselves surrounded by spectral button men. Who shoot them. With guns. And then they die. The end.
So, as you can see, the new book has certain flaws. Obviously, I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands. I'm going to kill everyone who had anything to do with this thing. Because that will be far easier than not buying the next issue, something I will be powerless not to do.
Monday, September 1, 2008
So I'm back. Got back from PAX about... three hours ago, and have been basically vegging and looking at photos since (There's a bunch on my facebook, so go have a look.). It was absolutely amazing. Seattle is a really beautiful city, and I'm looking forward to going again when I don't have to be constantly moving. Okay, let's see... Mark, Carson and Shawn picked me up from my house at around six on Friday morning, and we headed to the border. We got through the border with no incident, which was great because I was worried as hell. Those guys make me really goddamn paranoid.
"Mister Rowbotham... Hmm, says here a police officer talked to you and some of your idiot friends while you were smoking pot back in 2003."
"Mmmhmm. Well, THAT'S a reason for a cavity search if I ever heard one..."
We got into the States, choking on the sweet stench of freedom and Target outlet stores. The guys wanted to stop at a Jack in the Box, which I wasn't entirely thrilled with. I was really hoping for a traditional breakfast style thing. Maybe some pancakes.
Instead, I treated myself to a Jack in the Box "Hearty" breakfast scramble.
Now, in my defense, when I hear the word 'scramble', I think "Denny's", which is delicious. The "Hearty" breakfast scramble tasted like a combination of abortions and hate. I ate some of the homefries, scraped off whatever the bizarre white stuff was, and threw most of it away. I spent the rest of the trip to Seattle trying not to vomit. My shit was grey. We arrived in Seattle at the FABULOUS Sherreton Hotel. A valet parked our car (the oppulance was almost tangible.), and we checked in. Where my credit card was, of course, declined because I just spent most of it buying a fancy new phone. Apparently hotels don't take cash, which I found both odd and embarrasing. So Mark covered me, and we went to our rooms, changed, locked a non-dairy creamer in the complimentary safe, and headed down to the con.
The Penny Arcade Expo! Where the elite of gaming meet to discuss the important issues of the trade, keep up to date on the next big releases, and... wait in line for several goddamn hours. It was at around this time that I realized that my phone had stopped working. After fiddling with it for a while, I got it to go online again, and proceeded to update my facebook and so forth. It would not occur to me that I was roaming like a motherfucker for several hours. This is why I will be buried in a pauper's grave. I also observed that, to my delight, the entire Loading Ready Run crew (www.loadingreadyrun.com) had apparently made it. I celebrated this by mentioning it to Mark, and not approaching them due to almost crippling shyness and embarassment. After much waiting, and talking to a plesant young man who I can only think of as Russell because that's what it said on his tshirt, we were ushured into PAX proper. We got up to the Expo area, a huge room crowded with all sorts of gaming booths and, of course, made our way to the Fallout 3 area. There are two big games coming out that I need to own. One of them is Ghostbusters (Obviously.), and the other is Fallout 3. I've been hearing the game is going to be amazing, and I was looking forward to seeing it. The booth itself was great. A large, fiftys style trailer, and the traditional nuclear family out front wearing Vault-Tec jumpsuits and being served tea by a robot kettle. We stayed a few minutes and then wandered the halls, before heading back downstairs for the opening keynote speech. This was, of course, preceded by another wait in a long line. Waiting in long lines would become a theme for the weekend. The keynote was quite good. Mark told me it was on par with Wil Wheaton's speech last year, and his is a tough act to follow. After that, we stuck around to see Gabe and Tycho do the first Q & A session of PAX. This was awesome. I love those guys, I've listened to their podcasts over and over again, and seeing them live was just really great. And they were hilarious. After that, we dicked around a bit, pounded floor at the Expo again, and hit a really nice pub the guys knew from previous stays in Seattle. I had a cheeseburger and some kind of beer that was delicious. I'm not sure, but it MAY have been made from leprequan gold. We then returned to PAX for the Friday night concert. Carson went back to the room, but Mark, Shawn and I stuck around for the Oneups (who kicked ass. They do covers of old video game music.), Freezepop (who I hated. They do poppy... I don't know, I don't know music. The lead singer was kind of hot in an 80s chick with silver dress and giant pink belt kind of way. Which we all know I find INCREDIBLY ATTRACTIVE.), and Jonothan Coulton who kicked so much ass, he had to stop half way through to change boots. He covered all the big hits, did Re: Your brains that had the crowd going fucking apeshit, and finished off with a cover of Sweet Caroline that was like finding religion. And the crowd was so into it. There was this amazing, united feeling. I normally think that kind of thing is utter bullshit, but this... this was something else. Anyway, after the concert wrapped, we made our way back to the hotel, and went to bed. The hotel room only had two beds, so I ended up sleeping in two chairs pushed together. Honestly, it was pretty damn comfortable. I paid for it the next morning when I woke up, and cracked my spine so loudly Carson heard it in the bathroom. We got up at eight which is, of course, an ungodly hour made only for thieves and wastrels. Mark wanted to head straight for PAX, so he could cruise the expo room for a few hours before we hit the PA Make a strip panel at one. He was planning on hitting a Subway for a foul breakfast sub. Carson, Shawn and I felt it would be a better idea to go get some real breakfast, and we ended up going to this great little diner at Pike's Market. More importantly, I got to see the place where THEY THROW THE FUCKING FISH AROUND. So that was one childhood fantasy I could scratch off the list. We ate, (I had an absolutely amazing omlettey thing.) and then headed to the con. We arrived, and I met up with Amanda and Aal, got seperated from the guys, and ended up exploring the expo hall with Amanda. It was kind of a nice break from the guys. Plus, y'know, hangouts with Amanda. Aal introduced me to his buddy who worked on the Strong Bad game at the Telltale booth, and we got to check out the Batman Lego game which looked fucking awesome. I also completely failed to buy any sort of awesome nerd tshirt. At this point, the guys were looking for me, so we could go see the draw a strip panel. Amanda said she'd meet up with us later, and we seperated. The draw a strip panel was great (the strip we saw drawn should be up by the time you read this at www.penny-arcade.com), and Gabe and Tycho did another Q & A which was awesome. After that, I went looking for Aal and Amanda. The plan was to go grab them, and then come back for the Fallout 3 panel. Amanda, however, was put off by the insane death line, and decided not to come. I headed back to the Fallout 3 panel, only to find that it was INSANELY PACKED WITH SMELLY PEOPLE!!! At this point, I discovered that Carson had come looking for me, and we'd both been locked out of the panel. Burning with rage, we had the brilliant idea of going upstairs to the Fallout 3 booth to have a crack at playing the demo, and to our delight, special Fallout 3 posters drawn by Gabe were made available. As we got closer, we discovered that the place was... pretty fucking packed, actually. Apparently everyone at the Fallout 3 panel had been given cards with special prizes, the majestic posters were reserved only for special people who were not us, and those shining pricks were even now rushing the booth to get them. Thrown out of the Expo hall because... Jesus, was it full, we eventually escaped to a less busy area. We decided to give one of the DnD panels a look. It was, of course, crammed to capacity with dejected Fallout 3 fans. Burning with rage and shame, we eventually went out to the Starbucks down the road and got Frappachinos, then retired to a quiet(er) corner of the con, where we watched people play Rock Band and looked at internet cartoons about Spider-Man ("Why would Mysterio become a hero?" "Maybe he's gay! Gay for you!"). It was around this point that I saw Graham and Paul from LRR hanging out in one of the lobbys, and went over to say hi and tell them how awesome they were. They were both really cool, and I only stuttered like an idiot a little bit. They talked about the new Desert Bus and invited us to the LRR dinner they were having that night. I wasn't entirely sure what we were planning on for that night, short of checking out the second concert, but I really wanted to go to this thing. I love LRR, and being able to hang out with the crew for a few hours would be awesome. We eventually met up with Mark and Shawn who, to our insane rage, had not recieved glorious posters, but instead amazingly awesome Vault-Boy hand puppets. We were not pleased. The puppets were, of course, adorable. Bastards. After some discussion, we eventually decided to go meet up with the LRR guys. At the very least, I was hoping to pick up some DVDs from them. We got down to the cafe the dinner was at. It appeared to be empty. The guys and I hung around up front, and eventually more people started arriving. We hung around, and talked for a while, until Graham poked his head out of the resteraunt and said "Holy fuck, are you guys all here for us?"
The dinner was really great. In fact, I'd go so far to say it was the best part of the entire weekend. I met a bunch of really awesome people, not the least of which were the actual crew. The entire evening was really laid back, and honestly, a nice change from the insanity of PAX. After two straight days of GO GO GO, it was nice to sit back and talk with people. The cafe was not prepared for us at all. The LRR guys had expected MAYBE ten people to show up. By the time everyone got there, there were forty of us. The staff was not pleased to say the least. It was a great time though. I got to have some actual conversations with the crew, bought a set of DVDs, discuss the finer points of bacon salt and will probably be in a video on the site in a day or two. I also got to be in some of these pictures (http://loadingreadyrun.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=6820)and a video (http://loadingreadyrun.com/videos/view/373/loading-time-02c-pax-2008). So that's another dream fulfilled. When LRRcon 08 finally, regretfully ended (and I WILL be back for 09.), we headed back to the convention hall for the concert. Animatiguchi opened, with their awesome music, followed up by an AMAZING concert by Darkest of the Hillside Thickets. I don't know what it is about those guys. I don't like to dance in public, other than a little head bouncing. Well, I tell you this, my friends. I danced at the Thickets concert, and I left the place happy and covered in sweat. We ditched out of the MC Frontalot and Minibosses concerts, and instead caught a showing of Dr. Horrible, which Carson had never seen before. I really need to get the damn soundtrack for that thing. We got back to the hotel and vegged for a while, before finally hitting the sack. I got to sleep in an actual bed. We woke up at the crack of seven, and then woke up again at about the crack of eight. After several hurtful remarks about my snoring, we headed back to Pike's Market for breakfast, and then dicked around on the Expo floor some, before catching a bunch of panels. Sunday honestly flew by pretty quickly, but we got to see Video Game family feud, another Gabe and Tycho panel, and some video game stuff. I picked up a Scott Pilgrim poster and the complete set of Red vs. Blue cartoons, and in a glorious turn of events, one of the coveted Fallout 3 Gabe posters. They just started handing the damn things out. After that, we got in line for the Omeggathon, which was way cooler than I expected it to be. Watching two guys play Excitebike VS for the Famicon doesn't seem too interesting, but we were on the edge of our seats. After that, it was only a long car ride home, a much more delicious stop at Jack in the Box with no grey shit to speak of, and a terrifying encounter with a surly border guard/dick hole.
"And why were you so far from home? Where you boys live?"
"Uh, we were in Seattle at big gaming convention."
"Now I don't recall asking you where you were. I wanna know where you live."
"All of yeh."
*Here he shines the flashlight directly in our eyes*
"And how long you all known each other?"
"Since highschool. Uh huh...
How long you been away?"
Alright, get outta here."
So fifteen minutes later we were back in Cloverdale, enjoying the slurpees we had missed. And that was PAX. Really just an amazing time, and I'm really looking forward to it next year, along with more LRR meetings.
Really glad to be home...
Thursday, August 28, 2008
So it's been about three months since my last update. I swear to God, I have no goddamned idea how Warren Ellis does this enough to actually flood out my entire Friends page... I've been thinking about Warren Ellis a lot lately, because I've got this new kick-ass phone that I can apparently use to force the internet to do my bidding. Right this very moment, I'm typing this as I watch a very excellent episode of Deep Space 9. It's very strange to me. Like giving some Amish guy a Flux Capacitor or something. I'm hoping this new technology access will get me to write more now that I can basically do it anywhere I feel like it, so expect to get some posts while I am at PAX this weekend. With any luck, I'll have some cool new shit to show you.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Love is a strange thing. You can bestow it on a movie, a book, a treasured possesion, or even a pet. Legend even tells of people having love for OTHER PEOPLE (if you can believe it.). But love is a strange thing, often given, seldom returned. Well. I stand before you, and I proudly say this. The guys at Penny Arcade love me. Me personally. Matt Rowbotham. They have reached out a soft hand, and said "Matt. Matt, we love you, and only you. Truly. Madly. Deeply. You." For you see, I have played the game "Penny Arcade: On the rain-slick precipice of darkness." And I have discovered that it was, in fact, a gift to me. Now, others of course, may enjoy it, but let's all get something clear. It was built, programmed, and designed SPECIFICALLY with me in mind. There are certain ways to know if something will entice me, and they include the following
1) Being set in the 1920s or 30s.
2) Being steampunk.
3) Being Lovecraftian, or indeed, having some amount of tentacles.
4) Being fucking hilarious.
5) Allowing the savage beating of both hobos and clowns.
Well, I tell you this, my friends. Rain-slick presipice has all of that and more. It also allowed me to create a mustached character with a STEEL TOP HAT. Who BEAT PEOPLE TO DEATH WITH A GARDEN RAKE. The joy I feel in my heart of hearts is almost palpable. If I could go and live in a ficticious world of imaginative delights, it would be this one.
Also the combat makes you dance around like a spaz, so that it is never EVER boring. You should buy it right now. And then thank me. For without this gift to me, you could never play it.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
You may not see me for a while. Grand Theft Auto 4 is out this week, and I plan on picking it up as soon as I have the money (So, Wednesday with luck.). This was one of the three games for which I bought an X-Box 360 (for the record, the other two are Bioshock and Ghostbusters. And when Ghostbusters comes out, don't be surprised if you never see me again.), and the trailers are making it look pretty goddamn awesome. I've been playing GTA games since I got the five minute demo of the original out of a magazine back in 1998. Basically it gave you the entire game to play in five minutes. My friends and I would take turns seeing how much carnage we could rack up. I love them. Maybe it's because I enjoy crime movies and novels so much, and GTA is the closest to being in one, without the danger of being shot. Maybe it's the open freedom of the cities, the ability to drive anywhere, listen to good music, and become lost in a new, different world. Maybe I'm just a repressed, violent cunt, and being a fake criminal makes me feel like a big man. And maybe, just maybe it's all these things and more. But mostly the violent cunt thing. But whatever the reason, I'm really looking forward to GTA 4. For one thing, you get to play a complete asshole again. One of the things that really bugged me about San Andreas was your character CJ. He was a reasonably decent guy, pushed into bad circumstances, betrayed, and framed for the murder of a police officer. All of which would be well and good if you didn't spend the game killing literally thousands (along with hundreds of other people.)of police officers. But not that one police officer. I always felt it was kind of a weird choice for a GTA protagonist. I prefer the basically silent, nameless GTA Guy of the original GTA, or preferably Tommy from Vice City. Tommy was basically Scarface if he was voiced by Ray Liotta, and he was batshit insane. He lived in 1986 Miami, wore Hawaiian shirts, and occasionally had a samurai sword. If Vice City was a real place, I would have lived there. I played that game for six months, and I loved every second. So, not surprisingly, I am marginally excited for the new one.
In other news...
1. My username is _____ because ____
El Savior Lobo, because that was the name of the monster fighting Catholic mexican wrestler I wanted to be if Matt and I ever got the cable access preacher show we wanted in high school. El Savior Lobo is butchered spanish for the Saving Wolf.
2. My name is _____ because ______.
Matthew Graham Rowbotham because my dad lost the coin toss.
3. My journal is titled ____ because ____.
Bang your head against the wall because I was angry at school with a raging headache when I named the thing, and that was just what I felt like doing. I chose not to change it because it accurately discribed how I felt 85% of the time I made an entry in it.
4. My friends page is called ____ because ____.
People who amuse me because the only people allowed in it are those who amuse me.
5. My default userpic is ____ because _____
A dancing Black Mage from 8-Bit Theater. I have a deep love for Black Mage specifically, Black Mages (from Final Fantasy.)in general, and 8-bit theater too. I am also a fan of dancing, providing I am not required to partake.
I never know how the hell to end these things.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
So we have a puppy.
He's Mark's (Poor guy wanted a dog so bad, and frankly I don't have a problem with it providing I know about it ahead of time. Otherwise I tend to fly into a murderous rage.), and his name is THOR: DOG OF THUNDER!
(Clearly the dog of thunder part was my addition.)
I will post pictures when I have some. Suffice to say, he is fweakin' adowabwle.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
If you are an XXL male in an L t shirt with the phrase "The Man" featuring an arrow pointing at your face, and the phrase "The Legend" with an arrow pointing at your gentials, I can draw only one conclusion. The Legend being referred to is the Legend of Cave Junk, the man with penis so small it has folded into a vagina.
Micheal Cera (the ackward stuttery gangly looking gentleman of Arrested Development, Juno, and Superbad fame) will be playing Scott Pilgrim in Edgar Write's adaptation. This is news that makes me want to break out in song.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Look, I love Canada, I never thought I'd leave, (especially to go to America. Ick.) but a man has to follow his dreams and Cthulhu knows I've had this one since I was three. I've already started filling in the application
Name: Matt Rowbotham
How were you referred to Company?: I saw a joke about you guys on SNL.
Position applied for: Ghost wrangler.
Desired salary: Better than my current job would be nice, so... $12 bucks an hour?
Have you ever applied to / worked for Company before? [x] Y or [ ] N
If yes, please explain (include date): I think you probably got an application from me in 1987. I was denied because I lacked experience. And I was also four.
Do you have any friends, relatives, or acquaintances working for Company? [ ] Y or [x] N
If yes, state name & relationship: No, but I do have several dead relatives if that helps.
If hired, would you have transportation to/from work? [ ] Y or [x] N
I was given to understand that I could live at the firehouse, and have access to the car.
Do you speak, write or understand any foreign languages? [x] Y or [ ] N
If yes, describe which languages(s) and how fluent of a speaker you consider yourself to be: I can read fluent sumerian and sandscrit.
Do you have any other experience, training, qualifications, or skills which you feel should be brought to our attention, in the case that they make you especially suited for working with us?
[x] Y or [ ] N
If yes, please explain: I have my own uniform. I should however point out that the proton pack may be a toy.
What do you think? I'd hire me.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
It's late, and I am exhausted. There was some ridiculous error at work getting the comic shipment to Diamond, so I ended up having to spend the last... well, I'm theoretically getting paid for this, so let's just round it out to two hours installing, and punching in order information. I'm bleary-eyed and I should be asleep, or at the very least watching the X-Files in my nice warm bed. But I could not be in a better mood, because Sabrina and I got to go see Patton FUCKING Oswalt LIVE!!!!
Seriously, it will be a good solid week before I have a shitty mood again. Here's the thing. I bought the tickets a good week and a half ago, but the excitement factor... Eh, just not doing it. So we arrive at the Vogue, we sit down, seventh row left, great fucking seats, and I'm thinking "Doo doo doo. Whatever." You know, it's like I'm seeing a movie or something. Same old, same old, blah blah blah. So out comes the opening guy. Pretty funny Vancouver guy. Good local humour. I laugh. I'm enjoying myself. This is a good time. And then the next dude comes out. Eh. Not bad. Guy writes for the Simpsons (Don't get too excited, he writes for the CURRENT Simpsons.), and he desperately wishes he was Lewis Black, but fuck it. This is still a good time. Forty dollars good? Eh. So he wraps up his set, and then...
And then Patton Goddamn Motherfucking Oswalt came out and I fucking lost it.
Seriously, out he comes. "Hi, folks, how ya doin?" and I'm clappin' my hands and wooping, and so's everyone else and the crowd's really into it. And all I'm thinking is "That's Fucking Patton Oswalt! And I'm in the same room as him! This is significantly better than listening to him on my shitty stereo. I am so fucking happy right now." (I told all this to Sabrina on the ride home, and she says "God, you're such a girl, Matt." In this, she is not wrong. I was like a fucking Beatles fan in Hard Day's Night or something.) And he went for like a hour and a half, an hour forty minutes. Almost entirely new material. About half way through, my ability to laugh broke, and I started making a rather unhealthy weezing noise. Seriously. Hands down best time I've had in... Fuck, in years. Doesn't win best day ever,(That distinguished award still goes to the time Me, Amanda, Kim and Hassett went to some stupid SCA thing in the summer of '01.) because I had to haul heavy boxes at work all day, but it's at least in my top five. Just great stuff.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Things are weird right now.
As you may or may not be aware, I'm back at school again. Two courses. The Library stuff is going fine. It's leadership skills, or some such ridiculousness, and the class is full of self-tests where you try to figure out what kind of problem solver you are. My high priced bullshit detector went off within minutes of hearing this, and I've been able to get along pretty well. Not worrying. Not a problem. Unless it becomes one...
The problem is my political science class.
My brain is not made for politics. My brain is made for understanding the intricate details of comic book universes. Canadian politics (much like Canadian history.) is boring, and hard to follow, and I am six weeks in, and I do not understand it. So far the course has been light to the point of non-existence homework wise. Grades are based on tests, a paper, and group discussions. We've had two group disscusions, one sort of one, where the class just talked, but I signed my name so I do get the credit, and a real one. I bailed on the real one, because the thought of a room full of strangers knowing that I had no idea what I was talking about terrified me. This has happened before. Some of you may recall my children's lit fiasco from a few years back, where I was supposed to give a presentation and a puppet show, and instead ran away and threw up in a water fountain. I hate public speaking, I hate being graded on stuff I barely understand, and I hate school. I hate school so much. I hate that it plays up my anxiety problems, and makes me paranoid. Extremely paranoid. Everyone is talking about some homework assignment I forgot to do, I'm behind on something, everyone is looking at me, judging me. This ALWAYS happens, and it's been happening since grade 5. That paranoia is usually somewhat abated by me actually meeting people in class, but I don't really get along with people very well, because I hate most of them, and because I'm paranoid, so developing relationships is tricky. I've been out of school for almost a year, and I'd forgotten how badly I do in the educational environment. Stepping into the building again just makes my gut seize up. It's pretty worrying, and the fact that I've been spending a lot more time alone lately isn't helping. I've been getting creeped out at work, usually by customers who won't stop asking for things, and also by the guy who's friends with Skip, and comes in once a week. He's really just very nice to me, which leads me to think he's up to something. Uncomfortable. So getting back to the point, I have an exam on Tuesday that I am in no way ready for. I should be studying for it. Hell, I could easily be studying for it right now, but I'm not. I know I should be doing something, but I just can't, because I know how bad I'm going to do at it. The very thought of failure feels so freeing, like jumping off a cliff or something. Just failing, and failing so absolutely spectacularly that they give you a plaque or something. To Matt: Man, did he suck.
I wish it were April. I'm sick of feeling like this.
Friday, February 8, 2008
PATTON FREAKIN' OSWALT is coming to Vancouver on February 29 at 7:30. I'm going, and I want you to come with me. If you are interested, you call or email me or post here or whatever. I am going, and I am probably booking time off work to make a day of it. Whoever you are, you should come and we will have good times.
So... so happy.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Mark's dog, Kiko, got hit by a car on Wednesday night. He didn't make it.
Mark's pretty devestated. He loved that dog. I wasn't thrilled by Kiko's arrival (I punched Mark in the face when he brought the dog home.) but I ended up loving him, and I certainly didn't want anything to happen to him. Especially considering how much Mark loved him.
This soon after Oliver is not fucking fair.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
It's been a busy few whatayahcallits since the last posting, so I've got some actual stuff to talk about this time. And no, clearly I did not in fact stick to the comic review thing. It's a pain in the ass, and I am fucking lazy. It's not gone, it's just not going to happen every week. For Christ's sake, it's a bloody miracle when I update this thing more than once a week. Anyway, let's get down to the brass tacks, such as they are. Firstly, I'm back at school. Which, of course, sucks like a vacume cleaner in a black hole. To the surprise of no one, my political sciences class is boring (I don't care about politics, and I will continue to not care about politics until a party introduces the "Hunting the homeless for sport" bill. That's a party I can get behind!) and my Leadership skills (or whatever.) is doubly boring AND three hours long. I've been saying this for years, but it's true. Three hours is too damn long for anything, especially learning. On the plus side, I drew a LOT of goddamn doodles. Please, o Great Cthulhu, smash asunder this stupid college, and its dumb giant empty library, like you have smashed so many New England libraries before it. In your name, Mighty Cthulhu, hear my prayer. Forever, and ever, madness without end. Amen.
Anyway, in other news, Amanda and Aal finally brought up my copy of League of Extraordinary Gentlemen: Black Dossier (NOT AVAILABLE IN STORES THAT AREN'T AMERICAN!). You've all probably been in the position where you want to read, or see, or do something so bad, and you wait for it for so long, that it could never ever meet with your expectations. You build it up in your mind so perfectly, so fully that, no matter how good it may be, it will never be quite as good as your expectations. This was not the case with the Black Dossier. The Black Dossier was amazing in every sense of the word. It provoked amazement. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen is still, even after all these years, my favourite comic of all time. I love a lot of comics very purely, but the League is something else. The League is important, and when you read the first two minis, it feels like you are reading something important. Plus it makes you feel smart to pick out all the literary references. And if you can't pick them out, you can look forward to reading about them in Jess Nivin's excellent annotations. So, despite some reviews saying that the Dossier is a) Not really a comic, and b) Alan Moore essentially masturbating, I was prepared to like the new League. Now, both these points are true. A lot of the Dossier is text. Big wads of text for pages and pages. And it IS a little masturbatory in some parts (I can understand how some reviewers feel that Moore sacrificed story for seeing how many obscure literary characters he could jam into the text. Also, I don't know if anyone's told you this, but Alan Moore is kind of a weird guy.) but none of that is important, because the Black Dossier is... you know what, I don't have adjectives to discribe it. It's wonderful. The main story, set in the 1950s, following the demise of the Big Brother regime in England (as seen in 1984, which I'm told was originally supposed to have been set, by George Orwell, in 1948.) newly immortal fugitives Allan Quartermain and Mina Murray (Best female character in comics, ladies and gentlemen.) steal the Black Dossier from their former employers at MI5. They are pursued across England by a team of english spies including a young Emma Peel (From the Avengers.) and ex-League correspondent Campion Bond's grandson Jimmy (Jimmy Bond's apparently one of the copyright problems that kept the Black Dossier from being released anywhere except the States. Speaking of Jimmy, Moore characterizes him perfectly. He bases Jimmy on the character from the novels, not the films, so he's something of a half-mad womanizing asshole, as opposed to his more famous persona as a dashing, debonair secret agent.). That's essentially it. This story is interspaced with readings from the Black Dossier which form the meat of the book, and give Moore a chance to work with an abundence of characters, and in an array of different styles. The Dossier includes a lost play of Shakespeare, and a sample from Jack Keroac's stand-in Sal Paradise writing in a string of conciousness beat poet style which I could barely keep up with. There's a section where PG Woodehouse's Wooster and Jeeves do battle with the forces of Cthulhu that made me quite happy. There's a Tiajuana bible set during 1984. It's mindboggling how Moore can jump between these different styles, and still deliver an coherent story. If I had to find one flaw in the book, it's that Moore seems to have so many good ideas, he feels he can throw some away. My favourite part of the book concerned a flashback tale of Mina's second league doing battle with France and Germany's own Leagues of Extraordinary Gentlemen (France's including Arsine Lupin, the air pirate Robur, and Phantomas. Germany's featuring Dr. Caligari from the silent film, the Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, and that female robot from Metropolis.) in the Paris Opera. There was enough material here to warrent a six issue mini series in comic form, but Moore seems content to write it as a third person report. This is, quite possibly, the least exciting way to tell the story, and it was still my favourite part of the book. It just felt like I was reading a synopsis of the story rather than the actual story. Look, the Black Dossier is definitely one of the best graphic novels I've read in a long time (which is saying something, since I read almost everything.), and it's a damn shame that any one of you can't just walk into a comic store and buy a copy, and it's a worse shame that I can't sell it to people. The Black Dossier is a work of art, and it deserves to be seen by anyone willing to look at it.
Oh, this is cool. The UBC newspaper called the store, and interviewed me about the Spider-Man business. If you've read my rant on One More Day, you'll know how sorry that reporter was that he ever called me.
Moving on, I also recently purchased an XBox 360, and Bioshock. I've been meaning to play Bioshock for a long time. The game looks fucking cool, and setting it in the early sixties with that Art Deco style really drew me in. Bioshock, however, was not the reason that I finally buckled down and bought a 360. Uh, you may have heard about the upcoming Ghostbusters game. Written by Dan Ackroyd and Harold Ramis (the writers of both Ghostbusters movies. Also Ray and Egon.), and starring all four of the guys. And it basically lets you be a Ghostbuster. I've basically been waiting for this since I was three. I remember reading the original article on the game, putting the magazine down, and thinking "Well. Looks like I'm getting an Xbox." Anyway, Bioshock. Well, I beat it in about a week. Great game, great ending, great story, and the twist towards the end of the game was so fucking cool. Took me completely by surprise, despite the fact that the hint at it from the very second you start playing. Great stuff. I recomend the hell out of it. Now, I'm playing Mass Effect. You may have heard about it in gaming news recently. Yes, you apparently have sex in the game. More importantly, your sexcapades are not limited to the opposite sex, or even the human race. But the reason I bought it was that it's basically the follow-up to the Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic games, both of which were INCREDIBLY bad ass. KotOR 1 has one of the sweetest twists ever in video game history. So I'm expecting a lot from Mass Effect. The face designer is really indepth. I expect that you really could make a character that look like you. I woulden't know, since I didn't bother. Let's just say that the opportunity to play a hot space lesbian is entirely too good to pass up.
Good times all around.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Okay, I ranted like a motherfucker last time about comics, and how I can never find a decent review site (I'm giving Ain't It Cool News a shot, but I'm hesitant due to my long standing "Harry Knowles is an ugly troll" policy.)online. In the interests of giving myself something to do, and spreading the interest of comics to the people who read this, I'm going to review some of the comics I bought this week. More to follow.
Jonah Hex 27
Jonah Hex is a consistent favourite. Great western book with an excellent lead character. It also ususally does a decent done-in-one story, except when it doesn't. Then it does a good arc story. This month's story "Star Man" features Hex hunting a killer (as he is wont to do in basically every issue.)of crooked sheriffs. The story was engaging, and I found Star Man to be a very likeable character (His gimmick, a jacket covered in the stars of the sheriffs he has killed, looked really cool. The art was alright. I think Jordi Bernet used to draw the old seventies Hex series. If he didn't, then the art is very inspired by the older stuff. I'm didn't really dig it, but that's a personal preference. I recognize that it is GOOD art, I just don't particularly like it. Also Hex's nose looks like a penis in the third panel of page one. Not a fan of that either, but again that's a personal preference.
Teen Titans: Year One 1
I ususally dig the Titans, but this one left me kind of cold. The art's quite nice, in a sort of "We need to capture the Titans cartoon look, but use the original Titans line-up." That line up, if you're playing along at home, is Robin, Kid Flash, Wonder Girl, and Aqualad. I think Green Arrow's sidekick Speedy shows up too, but he's not in this one. We spend most of issue 1 with Robin (In his classic green undies and smooth legs, which is slightly disturbing, but not really something I can do anything about.) working with a grounchier than usual Batman on a cat burgler case. We also see Wonder Girl wandering around the city, fawning over boys, and... well, not a whole lot else. Also there's a kind of extreme close up of her butt in those Wonder Woman star-spangled panties she wears, and it's unpleasant because she looks about twelve. Aqualad hangs out in the ocean, being scared by a blow fish, and... well, actually I really like Aqualad's design. Kind of a pasty, kid with weird little pointy teeth. Oh, and he also wears panties and shaved legs. Presumably for speed swiming. I realize that these characters were designed in the forties and fifties, and for some reason it was okay for young boys to wear speedos in public, but the rest of the book's been updated to now (Kid Flash has a DS, uses IM, etc.), I don't see why the boys can't put some damn pants on. What I really did enjoy about this book was the back and forth between Robin and Kid Flash. I'm always a big fan of good dialogue, and its nice seeing the friendship between these two develop. I just wish there had been more of it. Anyway, I'll stick around for issue 2, hoping the book'll develop a bit more.
Okay, that's it for now. This is hard, and doing it while I watch Family Guy is probably not a great idea. More tomorrow.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Let's talk about one of my favourite subjects for a minute. That would be comic books. So you should probably bail, if that makes your eyes glaze over. Specifically, let's talk about comic reviews. I've been reading them for several years now at a variety of the websites I check regularly. They keep me informed of what's going on in the few books I don't read, and they can be marginally entertaining. Also I'm easily amused by things that interest me in a sort-of "Hey, I read that thing that guy is talking about" kind of way. I don't read comic reviews to tell me what comics to read. There's a couple of reasons for this. One, comic reviews don't usually come out until a day or two after Wednesday, and I buy all my comics on Wednesday, no matter what (unless they're late because of some stupid holiday, thank you oh so very much, New Years.). B, The best judge of what comics I like is, and always has been me. And my interests are broad enough that I can enjoy watching the X-Men beat the shit out of some sentinals just as much as I can enjoy an issue of Y: The Last Man or Scott Pilgrim. Thirdly, I work at a comic store. That means one way or another, I can basically read whatever the fuck I feel like. Comic reviews aren't (for the most part, I've found a couple of decent indy books through online reviews.) very useful to me. The problems with comic reviews are several. Firstly, a comic review is basically someone's opinion. Just because I like something doesn't mean you will. Diff'rent strokes, and so forth. I follow comic writers, you follow artists, you read all the X-men books, I coulden't give a flying fuck, etc. Secondly, if you're going to review something, you need to know something about it. It's why Roger Ebert has a column in the newspaper, and Billy Buttfuck from Spewtum, Virginia (Town Motto: "There's nothing we ain't sodomized.") doesn't. You can't go in blind with a comic review, or you get stuff like "It was alright, I guess, but I coulden't figure out why the bubbles full of words kept poking the characters." Thirdly, a review shoulden't be biased, and there's a LOT of this going on in comic reviews. I've read plenty of reviews that tell me what a book SHOULD be instead of what it is. This isn't useful. This is the reviewer telling me that he could have done a better job. That's all well and good for message boards, but it doesn't tell me anything about the actual book except that you are mad at it. I don't care what you think should have happened, I want to know what did. This is the opinion thing again, and it isn't useful. Quit trying to write a comic. Try writing a review. Fourthly, a comic review needs to go into some detail. One half paragraph hasn't been an acceptable amount of writing output since Grade 4, and it certainly isn't acceptable now. I've read reviews like this. Ahem.
Superman goes to space, and fights a monster. He gets killed again. Here's a short story about that: No."
That last line is a favourite of one of the reviewrs I read, and it never fails to enrage me. It doesn't tell you anything. "Hey, should I read Superman 423?"
"Okay, why not?"
"Because I didn't like it."
Fair enough, pal, but tell me why. What was wrong with it? Was it poorly drawn? Did Superman act out of character? What? Look, I'm well aware that this is a time consumig process, but I'm also aware that a lot of these guys get paid for this gig. I know for a fact that the guy quoted above does, and the least they can do is a little better than "No."
A review should have these bare minimum:
-What happened? (Not too much detail. Tell the reader about it, don't spoil it. A few lines here are fine.)
-What went right.
-What went wrong.
You should probably go into more detail. Talk about the script, and the art at least (It's the meat and potatos of the comic. If we're forced, most comic readers don't give a shit about how the inking or lettering looked, unless it was very good or very bad. If it was either, talk about that.). Personally, I'm not a fan of any kind of ranking (You know, a letter grade, some stars, a thumb's up or whatever.). If you did a good job reviewing the book, you shoulden't need to sum it up with a trite little picture of a frowny face or whatever. If I'm pressed, I'd go with the five stars out of five meter. Most people can figure out what that means. Finally, you don't have to be funny to write a review. Look, a lot of people aren't funny. It's a sad state of affairs, but it's true. Not everyone is funny. If you aren't funny, you should probably stop trying to be. If you are funny, and you can also write a decent comic review, great. You're well on your way. If you aren't, you can still write a great comic review. And you can write it even greater by laying off the stupid puns, and the pop culture references you don't really get.
So what does all this really amount to? Not a whole heck of a lot beyond my being angry that I haven't been able to find a decent comic review site since the Fourth Rail went down. I'm kicking around the idea of maybe reviewing the comics I buy every week for you guy's amusement, but that's up in the air right now, due to the fact that I'm lazy. On the other hand, I just wrote what basically amounts to an essay about comic reviews. You'd think whining about my own comics would be fairly easy.
Now that that's out of the way, let's talk about Spider-Man.
J. Micheal Straczynski (Hereafter referred to as JMS because I will be goddamned if I'm going to type out that mess again. I had enough trouble writing Micheal for Christ's sake.), creator of Babylon 5, just came off a seven (I think.) year run on Amazing Spider-Man. During that time, he successfully made the character readable again, dragging him out of a slump that he'd been in since the dreaded Clone Saga in the 90s. (If you're unfamiliar with the Clone Saga, and wish to know more, I will be happy to discuss it. At length.) JMS's run on the book was not perfect, hitting some snags with arcs like Sins Past and Skin Deep, but he captured Peter Parker's voice perfectly, introduced some great new concepts into the book, and save Pete's failing marriage to Mary Jane. (Some backstory: During the late 90s, the feeling at Marvel was that Peter Parker marrying his long time girlfriend, Mary Jane Watson was a mistake. People wanted a single Spider-Man running around, having promiscuous sex presumedly. Unfortuatly, nobody had the balls to actually pull the trigger on the marriage, so they solved the problem by making Peter a jerk, MJ a bitch, and them both having a trial sepperation. ((Thus giving one of my favourite super heroes problems basically on par with my parents. And wasn't THAT a treat to read about.)) MJ moved to Hollywood to persue an acting career, Peter stayed in New York to be beat up by a parade of grown men dressed as animals.). The last few years under JMS have had some really exciting, ground breaking concepts for Spider-Man. His powers were called into doubt (an old man with similar abilities hinted that Pete may have recieved his abilities from a Spider-God. Okay, it sounds ridiculous, but no one ever actually confirms the idea, and it was done quite well.), his Aunt May learned he was Spider-Man (becoming an interesting character in her own right, as opposed to a dithering old pensioner who baked wheatcakes ((whatever the hell that is.)), and had a heart attack every few years. The scene when Aunt May tells off J. Jonah Jameson for all the bad publicity he's given Spider-Man over the years is excellent.), he remarried his wife, strengthing a marriage that Marvel higher ups had no idea what to do with, became a teacher (I loved this idea. Kids love Spider-Man, and when I get a few in the shop, rare as it is, Spider-Man is the book I usually give them. It saddens me that Batman and even Superman are too violent for kids (Okay, I love it, but let's ignore what I want for a minute.), but Spidey's usually safe. Giving him a job where he interacts and helps kids was frankly brilliant.) joined the Avengers, and finally in a huge moment, unmasked during Civil War. All of this stuff was huge, character expanding stuff, giving the character lots of interesting stuff to do. With a good writer, Marvel would have new, interesting Spidey stories for at least another five years or so. So Marvel decided to reverse it all. JMS's final story on the book, One More Day, goes like this. During some post Civil War shenanigans, Aunt May is shot by one of the Kingpin's assassins. She's comatose, and dying. Spidey's at the end of his rope, searching down any option he can, begging friends and enemies for help. And salvation comes like this. The Devil offers to heal Aunt May, if Spidey will erase his marriage to Mary Jane. Not like a divorce, but like it never happened. Spidey agrees, wakes up in his aunt's appartment. She doesn't know he's Spider-Man, he's unmarried, unemployed, and rides a moped. So, basically he's a loser. And not in the lovable Peter Parker, aww shucks, typical Parker luck kind of way. In the "Still lives at home at twenty-six, didn't graduate college, can't get a job way." That's not interesting. That's MY life for crying out loud.
Look, I don't pretend that I'm a better writer than anyone at Marvel. I'm not, in fact, a very good writer at all, this giant post not withstanding. But I know a dumb idea when I hear one. Comics have a logic of their own, and they allow for non-logical things to happen. There IS a devil in the Marvel Universe, and this is excepted. But the Devil isn't a Spidey villian. There's not a lot of mysticalness in Spider-Man comics, and when there is, it doesn't ring true. Also the Devil just appearing out of nowhere? That's bad story telling. It's almost the very definition of a Deus Ex Machina ending. All of this would be bad enough, but what really grinds my gears is this: Spider-Man's growth, his development, the last seven years (at least!) was all flushed down the toilet. It's wasteful! All these good ideas, unexplored, so we can go back to Spider-Man as he was in the mid-seventies. And as far as I can tell, none of this has been done to further a new story. A story about Spider-Man losing a chunk of his life, and then getting it back? I could accept that. What I can't accept is flushing years of character development down the toilet so that Spider-Man can fuck a brunette this time around, or whatever giant plans they're making that needed this stupidity. It drives me up a frigging wall. I should point out that before this, Spider-Man had been unmasked for less than a year! No one even tried to go anywhere with that! That idea has potential, and they just erased it.
Look, this is turning into a rant, which is the last thing I want, (There are more than enough people on the internet doing that already, and if there's one thing I am, it's better than the internet.) and more importantly, it's gotten really frigging long, but it's something I needed to get off my chest. My point here, basically, is that Spider-Man was a great character, evolving and being fleshed out, and now he's been reduced to a costume. A corporate symbol. His life could be described by any random person on the street. ("Spider-Man has spider powers. His real name is Peter Parker, he lives with his Aunt May, and he's a photographer for the Daily Bugle.") The comic made him something else, something different, a character who evolved beyond being a corporately owned character.
It's sad, and it's stupid, and it's a fucking waste.
I think I have Carpal Tunnel.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
So strip one of Goddamnit, Matt (Vol 2 of Aal and my, and now Bendis Board Buddy Flonk's webcomic) launched on the 31st of December. Would have been nice to have been reminded of that. Anyway, it's here (http://b--g.aalgar.com/), and you owe yourself to check out this critically aclaimed, world renowned webcomic starring two of your favourite characters. But not me, because I killed myself.
Monday, December 24, 2007
So apparently it's Christmas again. So that's nice. Kind of scrimpy around the ol' Rowbotham homestead, what with one thing and another, but I was able to get some nice stuff for the family. Mark gets a fine book on dog training (Hope he gets the HINT there. Jesus. That animal takes a sick pleasure in slamming his rock hard snout into my crotch every chance he gets. Uh, Mark's dog, not Mark. At least not now that he has a dog to do it for him...), and my Mum a book on India which should make her happy. Kaitlyn gets a gift certificate, which will make her happy. In other news, Aal gave me an awesome tshirt featuring art from Menace of the Intermen on it. So I'm officially on one more tshirt than any of you. I could probably die content now. Meanwhile, the annual Venture Bros. Christmas song is out, and it can be found here http://www.quickstopentertainment.com/holidayhavoc/venture_bros_fairytale_of_new_york_2007.mp3
And, uh, that's about it.
Merry Christmas, guys. I love you all to death. I hope all your presents are awesome and expensive.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Wow, and sometimes I don't update for a really long time and then feel bad about it. Okay, it's been a while, so let's all of us play some catch up. The store has moved successfully. We're now at 1539 west Broadway, as I've told roughly ten hundred thousand people over the last month. I just rattle it off now, like some kind of awesome robot from the future. The store's not doing that great. We're still playing catch up, which is worrying. On the other hand, I'm working extended hours now, AND I got a raise. Apparently it took four years to prove I wasn't going to rob the place or have an afterhours party (Seriously. I was specifically asked not to do this when I was given a key to the new place. I don't know who the person I eventually replaced was, but they were clearly idiots. Who has a party in a bookstore? ...actually, that'd be pretty goddamn awesome. I'd better give my key back.) or whatever. Added responsibility, added money, it's like I'm becoming an... adult or something. Or at least a training adult.
Speaking of which, I turned 24 on the seventh to a complete lack of trumpets and hoopla. I spent the majority of my birthday money paying for school. Education, she is a harsh mistress. And not in the slightly hot "I wear viynl" way.
In other news, I am now the proud owner of an actual iPod. My trips to work are punctuated by Loading Ready Run podcasts, and the occasional Eddie Izzard stand up. This is resulted in my looking a fool several times in public areas. Such is the price of technology, I suppose.
Oh, look over here.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Y'know, the phrase "complete fucking gong show" get thrown around a lot these days. I don't know about you, but some guy's always coming up to me going "Hey, Matt! You check out that complete fucking gong show? That was ridiculous." I'll nod, smile, and begin looking around for a cop. That was then. Now, however, I can say to the person "Wrong, strange man. I have witnessed a complete fucking gong show. I took part in that complete fucking gong show, and I can say without fear of retraction, that I have been involved in the most complete fucking gong show of this, or indeed any century."
In case you haven't been following the complete lack of news I've been posting up here, the store started moving on Wednesday. For four days, I've been building shelves, carting heavy boxes, and arranging stuff. The utter insanity that has cursed this foul effort... Let's start at the begining. Skip hires some handy men to put the new shelves in. Both handymen are not at all handy. Both are hysterical crack heads and one only has one leg. Crack head one fell asleep twice while working, and tried to FIGHT THE WALL when he thought that it was insulting him by failing to accept the nails he was trying to hammer into it. Crackhead two laughs hysterically at anything. Both of these guys quit on day two (with the job barely started.) because they are "too tired, man." Also too tired are the muscle from yesterday. We brought in the magazine guy, and Travis (my arch-nemesis at work. He covets my comic job, but he will never get it, because he is a lazy whiny idiot, and I am much better at hiding those flaws in myself. Also he got fired.). They were brought in to haul magazines around. They quit half way through yesterday, so magazines were hauled by me and a middle aged woman with back problems. Thanks, guys! The sign outside reads "Comic and Book Emporium" because Skip hired a guy with mental problems to make it. You could tell because he talked to himself, and stalked menacingly around the store, threatening to hammer anything that even looked at him sideways. We have three hundred boxes of overstock that need to be stored. Skip's friend Dayton agreed to store them at his house (and in fact, harassed Skip every day for two months with "When are you bringing over the overstock? I can store it! I'll do you a favor!"), but when the (non-english speaking) movers arrived, he had disappeared. So! Three hundred boxes of overstock! Where shall we store them? I dunno! The comic back issues arrived completly out of order, and were nearly impossible to re-sort into the bins. My everything hurts, and I've been working twelve hour days since Thursday. And as far as I know the store is STILL NOT OPEN! But I don't know for sure, because it's my day off! HAHAHAHAHAHA!
Oh, and also I still haven't picked up my comics from last week. My world is crumbling around me.
NOT AT WORK!
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