The title of this post has a lie in it.  It has nothing to do with chasing rainbows. I’m not sorry I lied.

Most mornings, anymore, I haul myself out of bed after the alarm has sufficiently pissed me off and not a moment before.  I stand up against the will of morning gravity and immediately start processing all the things that I have to start doing and how long it will be before I can lay back down.  This morning was different, though.  This morning I woke up before my alarm and felt rested.

Why?  Because I had a great dream.  Al Gore was in it.  Now get your mind out of the gutter.

In my dream, I was fighting Al Gore in a toy store.  We weren’t really fighting, necessarily, but sort-of wrestling about without any real punching or kicking.  After I’d whale on him like an older sibling would do, I’d run the aisles and collect a toy or two before he could catch up to me.  I stock-piled them in one area, waiting to collect them at the end of the fight.

While I do love toys, I don’t feel any need to beat up Al Gore.  Maybe that’s the game though, because for a shopping spree, I’d definitely fight him.  That’s the obnoxious kid in me, I guess.

Speaking of toys, have you seen these Zhu Zhu Pets?  What the hell are they trying to push on us now?  From what I’ve experienced, a Zhu Zhu Pet is basically a toy car from the 80s (the kind that would drive around all crazy, run into walls, turn and go another direction) wrapped in a hamster suit that is sometimes made to look like another animal and all sharing the same electronics so they make the same varied animal noises when they bump into something.  I don’t get it.

Beyond being a very simple toy, they’re $10 freakin’ dollhairs each!  Of course this was the only thing my oldest daughter was asking for, so we bought two, but that seemed like such a lame offering that I bought some “track” for them as well.  They are a lot more fun in the track, but need constant supervision or they’ll fall over and get stuck, or escape and roll off the table.

I guess chasing toy hamsters around the room makes my dream about wrestling Al Gore sound like a decent alternative.

What’s your weirdest recent dream?

I’m not very good at being alone sometimes.

As a child growing up in a household not filled with the typical nuclear family, without siblings to keep me busy and entertained, I spent a lot of my time in my room. I read comic books, books of literature and picture books. I played with LEGOs and other building toys, and drew pictures all the time. I was not afraid to go outside but, with no kids my age living nearby, it was easy to enjoy my time alone.

Since that time I’ve taught myself to be a much more social person, although still very awkward at times, and had relationships that, for better or for worse, kept me from being alone any further. When you’re in a relationship with someone, particularly a young relationship, you rarely spend time alone. It’s okay to spend a lot of your time with your other, particularly when the relationships so young and you have so much to learn about each other that you didn’t get to learn in all the nights you stayed up talking.

Although it’s important to build your relationships with other people, to grow friendships and form a bond with someone whom you’ll share your life with, it’s also important to spend some time with yourself. Remember how cool you think you are, and keep that separate from how you think others feel about you. Feel good about yourself, and if you don’t, figure out why and help yourself to get to the point where you think you’re cool again.

It’s difficult though, to be alone. If I’m alone in the car I get bored. I play with my phone and I call friends, or I send messages. I check my email and even, (gulp) watch videos. I have a long commute. I am alone in the car for almost 3 hours each day. Sometimes I don’t even turn on the radio. I just sit and think.

If I’m going to the bathroom, I’ll usually take my phone, a book or something to do. It’s not that I’ll be in the bathroom for hours, in fact I end up staying much longer because of my activity. I just don’t want to get bored when I’m alone. it’s not uncommon in our house to leave the bathroom door cracked and talk to the person who’s in the kitchen.

The winter of 2008, I moved into a new house, lost my job and spent the cold snowy Winter alone in a new place, far from the view of other houses or activity. By the end of the day I was excited to do anything outside the house. All day long I’d claw at the walls (metaphorically) trying to get out of this lonely cage. Still, I want to be better at being alone, because I love to draw and to create and in most cases that is done alone.

The video that inspired these thoughts, which I am playing in a tiny window, over and over. The words constantly whispered to me, I hope, will teach me something more to be less anxious about being alone.

How do you deal with being alone?

Rumor has it that I’ve been off in Zambia, training lions to do my bidding as part of an overall goal of small-rural-town domination.  I will not tell you it’s not true.  You’re smart enough to know that it probably is, and I wouldn’t insult you.

The reality of the situation is that I was challenged to develop a 22 page comic book and ended up with approximately one month to complete it in.  The story began very differently, but the more I thought about it and “fleshed it out”, it grew and changed into something that does make a bit more sense.  That being said, it’s not perfect.

At this time, I’m not completely happy with all the artwork and I think the story needs a little bit of attention.  This is the first part in a series that I’m planning, but that’s not a good excuse for not getting to the point faster, I suppose.  I’m curious to hear what you, my internet friends, think.

Now here’s a problem, or maybe a good thing: The file is too large for me to upload directly through Wordpress Media Upload, so rather than upload it manually I’m considering releasing a few pages a week.  Maybe a page a day, and maybe just a page a day Monday through Thursday, giving me time to redraw and clean some things up.

You tell me, readers.  Would you enjoy reading a page a day, having something to look forward to (poking me with sticks and laughing at me), or are you impatient and you want to see the product of a month?

Tell me in the comments.

I drew all the time until I was a teenager and then I forgot how much I enjoyed it. I didn’t pick it back up until a couple of years ago and then, when Mrs and I courted (tee hee) I stopped again.

Why? I don’t know. Its like I forgot again.

I’m always busy. I have a 10 month old girl, who loves attention and I work over an hour from home. There aren’t enough hours on the day. But is that fair to say?

When I cut down on my own twitter use lately, I started paying more attention to the feeds and work of artists I like. I found many of them have similar situations to mine and they do more and better work than me. I expressed this wonder to a friend, who told me; “we all have the same number of hours in a day”.

Shit. He’s right.

That’s good because it proves it’s possible, if I stop using time as an excuse. Anyone hates to be called out, but if it’s good news I think it’s worth it.

I am working on a 22 page comic book, to be completed by the end of the month and I feel more confident I can finish it now. It does take a lot of my time, but I have time. We all do. Sometimes you have to remove other things that are less important. For me it’s just an attitude change.

I haven’t blogged in a while, but I’ll make it fit too. I never meant to stop, but I did forget how much I enjoyed it.

Enough about me, has this ever happened to you, Gregory?

Penelope

Okay, not BECAUSE of the pig nose, but because she's an awesome person, portrayed by the lovable Christina Ricci. She's very smart, and despite being sheltered her entire life, she's very adventurous. You'd ignore the pig nost. Honestly, it's not that bad.

Dylan Sanders

The hottest Charlie's Angel. She's a spy, she's a badass and she looks like someone that you wouldn't mind being thrown around by. It would be a short fling because she's got too much of a jet-set lifestyle that you'd have to play second-fiddle to. SUPER hot though. Super.

Ginny Weasly

Ah, Ginny. Extra points for being British and, although we watched her grow up, it felt as though we were the same age. She's of age now, just to be clear. Very smart, and very strong. She was once saved by Harry Potter, but later takes charge and saves him from himself. Ginny strikes me as a real person. Someone you don't take lightly.

Olive Snook

Always searching the pie-maker's eyes for love, this girl has had it rough. She's caring, persistant and very cunning. What she lacks in common sense at times, she makes up for in luck and wit. Beyond that, those zipper shirts give her bonus points. Grrr.

Invisible Woman

Yes, a comic book girl. Shut up. The Invisible Woman has never not been a hottie. Plus she's easy to hide if you need a cover. Imagine the possiblities. I am.

Sometimes it’s amazing what’s big news and what’s nothing at all.  The flooding in Tennessee didn’t get the press it deserved, and honestly I don’t think the flooding of the creek by my house did either.  Did you hear about it?  I bet you didn’t.  This is exactly what I’m talking about, good people.

While Mrs and I were out yesterday, there were apparently storms of epic proportions at the homestead.  Roads were flooded slightly and all the fields were reflecting a brown mirror perspective of the sky.  Thinking back, it was actually pretty cool.  I should have taken pictures.  Damn.

As we pulled into the driveway, we noticed our duck was hanging out alone much further from his shed, where he rooms with 7 chickens.  A moment later I realized he wasn’t alone, but had made a new turtle friend.  This turtle, however, was the size of a hubcap and because he was a snapper, pretty antisocial.

Here’s the video, along with some excellent commentary on the situation:

Here’s what you might not understand from my cell-phone audio:

Mrs: It musta rained like a sonofabitch on the way home, or while we were gone.
Uh uh, get back in the house…  or upstairs… to that place up there.

Me: Yeah, duck, get upstairs.
He has some sharp ass nails.

Mrs: Honey, go get the duck.

Me: What do you want me to do with him?  He’s a duck.  He’s roaming the field, that’s what ducks do.

Mrs: He’s gonna get hit by cars, he’s too close.

Me: Dude, I’m not going to go running through the field trying to get a duck who’s going to fly.

Mrs: Are you taking video right now?

Me: Yes, I got you saying “son of a bitch” and telling the duck to go upstairs.  It’s really quite lovely.

Mrs. HAHAHAHAHA

Me: He’s a dinosaur isn’t he?

Mrs: I think he is!  Look at him!  his tail is wild!  Isn’t that the biggest turtle you’ve ever seen?

Me: It’s the biggest turtle I’ve ever seen – at someone’s house – let alone at our own.
Are you getting freaked out cause I’m getting close to you, buddy?
Go see if the camera’s in the car.

There you have it.  Another historical chronicle of a mysterious species of animal.

I think when you present anything, you generally have an idea of how it’s going to go. You at least have an idea of how you’d like it to go.  Well, I posted a partial project I’ve been working on, and instead of getting feedback from 2 or 3 people, as I expected…  Something different happened.

It all started with Elly Lou (blog) having some sort of confusion with the comment box having some sort of a minimum, which it apparently doesn’t.  Innocent enough, right? Seemingly.

Before I know what’s going on, the post has become a public forum with questions about caring for a new cat, the legitmacy of transexual mates and time machines.  A comment sandwich began and, my friends, it grew.  It grew like an unholy sandwich from sandwich-hell.

Somewhere in the midst of the tornado of comments, I believe, but cannot prove, that VapidBlonde (blog) got my cat pregnant, PattyPunker (blog)  stole all my lightbulbs and Dufmanno (blog) defended, again, that she does not have a condition referred to as “fur boobs”.   Oh and WickedShawn (blog) promised me pictures of boobies.  Man boobies…  I hope she forgets.

We laughed, we loved and we learned from each other.  VapidBlonde, for example, shared with us the gift that is the muffburger:

She then tried to shield us from the dangers of searching for “sexburger” at work, but when I did, I learned even more!  Go ahead and assume that all of my settings are modified to allow as much “accidental” porn to come up in my search results as possible.  Still, I learned of the “SEX BURGER” restaurant:

As it turns out, the SEX BURGER is a bit of Engrish (engrish.com) but I call this a happy accident.  Two things I love more than almost anything, barring comment sandwiches like this, are sex and burgers.  I want to fly there and eat them out

of business!

With this comment section rolling forward with the fury of 10,000 Mack trucks, I found it hard to stop it.  I wanted to do an update more of the guide to wishing – but…  My dog ate my Wacom pen.  This is because he is a bastard.  Until I order a new pen, I can’t do much more with that.

Furthermore, I’ve gone viral. I don’t mean that in the way that I’m all popular and stuff, although that’s clearly the case for you guys/girls who deserve big free beers and sloppy kisses, respectively.  Hell, depending on where the night goes, those might switch… Well, maybe just the beer part.

Being virally ill for several days made me think I was dying, because I’m really really bad at being sick.  Coming out of that, and ordering a new pen tomorrow, I will have additions to the guide for wishing AND I want to hear your suggestions.  Were there parts that you thought were confusing?

(during the writing of this post, Subwow (blog) tweeted, asking yet more people to be the condiments on this comment sandwich.  Hilarious.)

And now, my question to spark comments…  Uh…  Well, this is hardly necessary here, so let’s just start with sexburger.

Okay, what few of you lovely and loyal readers I have remaining after taking a month off and not finding the time to comment on all the blogs I read and enjoy normally, I just want to say I love you.  I mean that in a an honest I’m-just-trying-to-get-you-into-bed way.  From the heart, and shit.

I’m a student of 10 years at this point, and school is hard.  I’m not saying it’s hard to do, I mean after all I am a genius (if they’ve changed the definition recently to “cheese enjoyer”), I’m saying it’s hard to fit it all in.  With a Mrs and a baby and a house and an addiction to movies, I can’t find the time to do my school work.

You’re going to want to punch me in a second when I tell you that of the 2 classes I took this semester, I was to create 2 comic book style works.  Yes.  I was supposed to draw stuff, of my own choosing, for a grade and I didn’t get it done.  Nobody feels like a bigger loser here than me, let me tell you.

I must admit here that I did do my best, mainly at the end.  There were a number of reasons and excuses I could supply, but they don’t matter because the bottom line is this is what happened.  Sucky, but true.

I bet a lot of you draw.  God, I hope you do.  If you don’t, start now.  If it sucks hide it, but DO NOT throw it away under any circumstances.  You need it to see how good you’re getting over time.  I hate HATE HATE when people throw it away or refuse to show it off.

Here’s the rule on this one, okay?  If you doodle a snowman and someone laughs at it and asks if it’s a roll of toilet paper with lines drawn through it, punch them directly in the nose.  They should be prepared for it, because they are literally asking for it.  I know some really great artists who lay down a few lines and the image takes shape.  They would never laugh at anyone, so screw those who can’t.

*stepping down from soap-box*

So without further BS, here’s the incomplete fruit of my labor.  It’s a guidebook to wishing properly.  The idea is that you might stumble upon a chance to make a wish and you don’t want to cock  it up.  This guide will help you get it right.

Download the incomplete guide here

I plan to finish it, but it’ll be on my time.  It needs a complete overhaul, if you ask me.  That’s all the disclaimer I will put out there.

I’m not asking for praise here, tear it up if that’s how you feel, what do you think (honestly)?

Last Thursday Mrs and I were in get-shit-to-sell-at-the-yard-sale mode.  Nothing was safe.

Me: Do you like this, or can we sell it?

Mrs: Eh…  I kinda like it.

Me: Great, how much should I put on it?

We even made a stop at her parent’s house to see if there was anything we could wrangle up there to sell for change, and after packing a few boxes of knick knacks and other heavy glassware, I headed back downstairs.  Evidently, there were a few new steps there installed that nobody informed me of so I tumbled over, hit the wall & fell down a few steps.  The good news is, I didn’t break anything in the box.

The bad news was that I felt I might have ripped my foot clean off.  This is, of course, when everyone hears the commotion and calls out to check on me:

MIL: Are you okay?

Me: *grunting* Yes.

Mrs: What happened?

Me: I …  Grrr…..  I fell. (obvious, right?  I mean, that, or I threw the box down the stairs to save me carrying it)

MIL: What happened?

Me: I fe….  I fell…  (words were not important to me at this time)

FIL: Are you okay?

Me:  Grrr..  Yes. I just…

MIL:  Are you okay?

I mean, when’s a better time for me to get all popular and have everyone wanting to know what’s on my mind?  I think the moment I find myself in seething pain that’s when the phone should ring off the hook as that’s when I’m most social.

So, I guess I rolled my ankle.  It hurt like all hell, but days later I’m in good shape with some weird bruising and a bit of a limp.  In fairness, it could have been worse.

While my foot was healing with super-fast power, evidence of my super healing ability, things were not so good in Nashville, and surrounding area:

Now you all know I’m usually cracking wise about everything in an effort to prevent myself from truly getting old, but this is a crisis for a lot of people.   There are crises all the time, and some affect people you don’t know.  There are a lot of problems in the world that are “someone else’s problem”, but these are our neighbors.

Take a moment and consider a donation

Do you know anyone affected by the flood?

The yard sale at the church was a success in many ways.  We sold a bunch of crap we didn’t need, gave away some crap that wouldn’t quite sell, and added some more money to the jar.  Best of all, we saw and talked to some really odd people.  I can’t imagine a better forum to make fun of people I don’t know, and somehow I know that you’d have all done the same thing.

Some people would come out of nowhere, because there was a big parking lot next to and behind the church we were set up at.  One very young couple did just that, except their arrival was marked by a caramel colored pit bull, running around without a collar or leash.  Obviously, having a pit bull myself, I wasn’t too concerned, but a pit bull off the leash doesn’t do well to draw in families with small children.

We made a comment when they arrived that their dog was very pretty and they stood and talked to us and didn’t stop to look at any of our stuff.  The guy had spiked hair and the girl was dressed like a hooker with a ton of make-up, hair done-up and a dress which she had folded over her belt to raise it to just under her ass.  She was also wearing a lot of pink costume jewelry and wearing heels.  That’s right, heels at a garage sale.  In the dirt where it had been raining all night.

They wanted so much to tell us about their dog and all the stuff she can do and so on and so forth.   They tried getting her to do some tricks, but instead she just ran around and sniffed all the children.  Finally they wanted to show us how excited she is to get a treat, but the treats were in the car so they left to get them and promised they’d be back.  Thank God they were as flakey as they were crazy.

Regarding people who take their dogs to yard sales, there was a couple who were probably in their 50s, both overweight and both wearing giant bluetooth earsets like they longed to be in a sci-fi movie, on the deck of some collosal spacecraft. The man was wearing a lycra Starter shirt, probably intended for workouts, but it was stretched skin-tight over a giant pot belly and two pointed and perky man-boobs.  Their dog was shedding, evidently…

I know this particularly well because they told us how bad she was shedding.  They said how bad it normally is. Of course, he also had to show us, so with the wind blowing toward us, he proceeded to pull out big chunks of fur and let them loose to fly all over us.  While this was happening and we sat in disbelief, they proudly told us how they were able to use his shedded fur to make both a cat bed, and a dog blanket for her cage.

Sure some people are just dumb, and they don’t really mean to offend anyone.  Others, on the other hand, are just assholes.  For example, Mrs and I went to the sale next door and left a friend watching over the sale for us.  A woman asked about the price of jackets and coats and our friend said $3 for the jackets and $10 for the leather coat.  The woman wanted the leather coat for $3, because it wasn’t leather, she claimed, because it was suede…  The same woman wanted a $10 quesadilla maker.  She offered $3…  Our friend countered $7.  She offered $5 and our friend took it.  (It is a yard sale and I don’t want to haul all this crap home)  She agreed, although irritable, then complained loudly that she didn’t see the box to go with it, or the instruction manual…

The list goes on, but those folks stood out.  We made about $200 between Friday and Saturday and only managed to spend about a quarter of that on stuff from the area including a set of loudspeakers I intend to mount on the garage to play circus music all day and night.  Now that that’s over, we’re doing the most logical thing…  We’re planning to have the yard sale again at our own house this weekend.  I’ll try to take pictures.

Do you have any good yard sale stories?