Tuesday, December 20, 2011

They Just Don't Want to Talk to You


Unless the person you text only has a landline. Brutus should have plenty of friends that have both a cell phone and a landline. Old people do stuff like that.

And I'm off for the holidays and will be back January 2nd. In fact, there's not even anything scheduled to go up over the next couple weeks which I'm sure will hurt my stats but it's Christmas so we shouldn't be thinking of stuff like. There are some children in Nairobi who don't even have blogs. You can follow me on Twitter to see what I'm doing instead of updating this thing.

No. 30: So This Is Christmas

December 21st
“No, I can definitely handle two Christmases,” I said as I stood in front of the mirror trying to do something with my hair.

“I just don’t want you to be stretched too thin,” Krista came up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. “You have to drive a hundred miles to my family Christmas.”

“My family has Christmas on Christmas Eve and your family doesn’t do Christmas until Christmas evening. Plenty of time to do both,” I turned around in her arms and smiled at her. “Nothing can stop me from spending Christmas with you.”
I leaned in and kissed her. I stroked her soft brown hair as she moved her hands along my back.

“We need to go,” Krista said, pulling away. “I need to get to work and you need to…do whatever it is you do during the day,” she smiled, giggling slightly.

“Okay,” I kissed her again. “I will see you this evening.”

We got dressed and left her apartment. Krista headed to work while I went to the comic book store where my friend, Neal, and his wife, Samantha, worked. The store wasn’t open yet but the door was unlocked and Neal and Sam were in the backroom.

“You guys doing it back here?” I yelled as I entered the room.

“No. We finished about twenty minutes ago,” Neal said.

Neal was shaved bald but had a full beard. Sam was short and kind of chubby with long brown hair and large breasts. She always wore some form of black clothing. Today, it was a black sundress. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I want to propose to Krista,” I said.

Sam got up and hugged me. She squealed, which was a sound I had never heard come from her before. “Oh my God! I am so happy for you!”

Neal shook my hand. “Congratulations, man,” he said.

“Well, I haven’t proposed yet but I wanted to tell somebody and since you two are my best friends I figured it might as well be you,” I said.

“Do you have a ring picked out yet?” Sam asked.

“No. Me and Joan are going out when I get home and find something,” I replied.

“You and Joan? You’re not even going to ask one of your closest friends to go ring shopping with you?” Sam complained.

“Well, no offense but you don’t really have the right...taste, yeah that’s the word, for jewelry.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked.

I looked at her ring, a silver titanium ring with moon and star shaped holes, and then at Neal’s ring, a black titanium with skulls and crossbones on it. “Are you serious?” I asked her.




Joan was my roommate who moved in after Neal moved out. She was short with curly orange hair, bright blue eyes and slight freckles on her face but her arms, chest and shoulders were covered in them. When I walked in, Joan was sitting in her underwear at the computer. A DVD of Futurama was playing but she wasn’t paying attention to it. I hung up my jacket and looked at Joan. “Ew. Boobs,” I said as I headed down the hallway.

“You love ‘em,” Joan said without looking at me.

After a few minutes, I emerged from the bathroom and went back to the living room.

“You left the toilet seat up.”

“Sorry,” Joan said, still not really paying attention to me.

I turned off the TV. “What time do you have to be at work?”

“Noon, why?” she responded.

“I want us to go ring shopping today so I can pick out Krista’s engagement and wedding ring. You said you’d go with me.”

“That doesn’t sound like something I’d say.”

Well you did. Come on, we have about an hour and a half before you have to be at work.”

Joan growled loudly. “Fine! But I’m only doing this so I can have the apartment to myself when you move in with Krista.”




December 22nd
I showed a couple of the girls at work the ring and their faces lit up. “So you’re really going to do it?” Alexis, a short, freckled, brown haired girl asked.

“Of course. I love her,” I replied. “So you think it’s a good ring?”

“It’s beautiful. She’ll love it,” Jennifer said.

“It was so hard not to propose this evening but I’m waiting for Christmas Day when we’re at her parent’s house,” I said.

“You’re proposing on Christmas?” Tom asked from behind me. “Proposing on a holiday. Are you going to get married in June?”

“How would I know that? Krista doesn’t even know I’m proposing,” I said, turning to Tom.

“It just seems so cliché,” he sneered.

“Thank you for your opinion, Tom. Shouldn’t you get back to work?”

“I’m on break.”

“Of course.”

“Ignore him,” Jennifer said. “I think it’s romantic. Krista is lucky to have you.”

“I can be romantic, too,” Tom began. “I just don’t see the point of it at this juncture of my life.”

“Yeah. But even when you are romantic, you’re still a huge jerk,” I said.

“Maybe I’ll be all romantic with your mom!” Tom retorted.

“All right. Let me know how that goes,” I sighed and went back to my work.




I was still asleep in Krista’s bed when she came home at six. She woke me up by shaking me softly. “Hey, you,” I said as I stretched.

“I love seeing you sleeping in my bed,” Krista smiled. “Hey, my boss gave me my Christmas bonus so I thought we could grab some dinner.”

“Sounds good. Let me take a shower and we can head out,” I stretched again and sat up. “How was work?”

“It was good. How was your day?”

“Pretty boring. I went to bed right after you left and have been asleep ever since.”

“Must be nice to sleep all day,” Krista got into bed next to me.

“It is but I still have to be up all night. If only I had a woman with a good job to take care of me, I’d quit my job and focus on my art.”

“Your art?”

“Yes. Writing to TV show producers and telling them how to make their shows better,” I said, chuckling.

“You’re a regular humanitarian hope,” Krista kissed me. “You should get in the shower so we can get to dinner and still have time afterward before you have to go to work.”

“Are you going to join me in the shower?” I winked.

“No,” she said as she smiled “that’s why I want plenty of time after dinner.”




December 23rd
When I returned home from work the next morning I could hear Joan in her bedroom. I went into my bedroom, shut the door and turned on the TV to try to drown her out. I changed from what I wore to work into my boxers and large shirt and laid down in bed. I dozed off within half an hour.

Some time in the afternoon I was awakened by my phone ringing. I reached over and answered it. “Hello?”

“Sorry if I woke you,” it was my aunt “but Grandpa’s in the hospital. He’s had a stroke. We’re in the emergency room right now if you want to head over here.”

“Okay,” I yawned. “I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

My Grandpa had been in and out of the hospital the last two years or so after suffering a stroke. My Grandma passed away about three years ago and after that my Grandpa seemed lost—didn’t really know what to do. He tried reuniting with old friends, seeing family he hadn’t seen in a long time and even started this woman he knew from when he was a teenager. Then he had his first stroke which the entire family considered with a punishment from my Grandma for attempting to date again.
I got dressed and headed to the hospital where my entire family was waiting in the emergency room. “What’s going on?”

“They just got him stable but he’s still unconscious. They’re going to move him up to a room in a little bit. They think he had a massive stroke and a series of small strokes. It doesn’t look too good,” my aunt said. My uncle, who had been staying with my Grandpa since his stroke, forced himself to hold back tears.

My family and I waited in the ER waiting room for a few more minutes until a nurse walked over to us. “We have your father moved into a room. He’s not awake but you can go up and see him,” she handed my aunt a piece of paper and we went together to the elevator and up to Grandpa’s room.

We walked in and saw Grandpa lying in bed, completely still, looking like a ghost rather than the man we knew. My aunt and Mom gasped and my uncle finally let a tear go. A nurse came in behind us. “Are you all family?” she asked.

We all nodded.

“Have you decided what you all want to do?” the nurse asked.

“What do you mean?” my aunt asked.

“Resuscitation. Do you want to sign a ‘Do Not Resuscitate’ order?”

“Why?” my aunt was confused. “He could wake up. Couldn’t he?”

“It is possible but it doesn’t look good. I’ll send in the doctor and he can go over it with you.”

“I think we should do it,” my uncle said.

“But there is still a chance he could wake up and be able to eat and breathe on his own,” my aunt said.

“I just don’t think he would want to live like this. I’m just trying to decide what’s best,” my uncle broke down and began crying.




I arrived back at home; Joan was either still at work or out. I began searching the kitchen to find something to eat when my phone rang. “Hello?”

“Are you coming by before I leave?” Krista asked. “I’m leaving in a few minutes.”

“Oh, God. I completely forgot. My Grandpa’s in the hospital and I spaced out on everything today. I haven’t eaten since my lunch hour last night at work,” I said.

“Your Grandpa’s in the hospital? Is he going to be okay?” she asked.
I shrugged even though I knew she couldn’t see it. “Probably not. We signed a ‘Do Not Resuscitate’ order so it could be a matter of hours or he could last days.”

“So you’re not coming to my parent’s Christmas are you?” Krista asked.

I was silent for a while then answered, “Probably not. I should stay here just in case he goes.”

“I understand. I’m going to miss you. And my family is going to miss you,” Krista said. “I’ll text you when I get down there. I love you.”

“I love you too,” I replied. I closed the refrigerator door and went into my bedroom and tried to nap before I had to go to work.




December 24th / December 25th
Like we have for years before, my family celebrated Christmas together on Christmas Eve. We ate a lot of food and opened our presents to each other. We reminisced about past Christmases and my Grandma and Grandpa. By ten o’clock, I was back in my apartment. Joan was off with her family so it was just me. I stayed up only for a little while before heading to bed. Around 1:30 in the morning, my phone rang.

I reached over and grabbed it. “Hello?” I answered.

“Grandpa passed away,” my Mom sobbed.

I sat up in bed and turned on the lamp next to my bed. “Where are you?” I asked.

“We’re all heading to the hospital. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” my Mom said.

“No, I’m heading out now. I should be there in ten minutes. See you there,” I hung up and got up, putting on the same clothes I wore to the family get-together. I began writing a text to Krista but decided against sending it. I left the apartment and drove to the hospital and met my family in front of my Grandpa’s room. There was a ‘Do Not Enter’ sign posted on the door. “Has anyone gone in yet?”

Everyone shook their head.

“The door’s been locked. And we were kind of waiting for you,” my aunt said.

“Are you ready?” a nurse suddenly appeared behind us.

“I guess so,” my aunt said.

The nurse unlocked the door and pushed the door opened. “Please close the door behind you,” she said. “Take your time.”

I was the last one in the room so I shut the door. My Mom, aunt and uncle circled around my Grandpa’s body, still covered up in the bed. The room had been cleaned out and the lights had been dimmed.

“Say ‘hi’ to Mom for me,” my uncle said softly touching Grandpa’s shoulder.

“What are we supposed to do? Do we just leave him here until the morning?” my aunt asked.

“The funeral home should have 24 hour service,” I began. “They should be able to pick up the body tonight.”

We stayed in the room for a few more minutes before leaving. My aunt approached the nurse’s desk and asked for the numbers to a couple of funeral homes.

About an hour later, I was back at home. I lie down in bed and immediately fell asleep waking up about mid-morning and wanting to see Krista. I took a shower, got dressed and grabbed my things and proceeded to drive the hour’s trek to Krista’s parent’s house.

I walked up the porch and knocked then got down on one knee. Krista’s mother answered the door and smiled at me. “Krista, it’s for you.”

She moved away from the door and Krista approached. She saw me down on one knee and beamed, her eyes tearing up. I pulled the ring box out of my pocket and opened it. “Krista, will you marry me?”

Tears started falling. “Yes. Of course I will,” she laughed. She pulled me up. I slid the ring on her finger and kissed her. We pulled away. “What about your grandpa?” she asked.

“He passed away earlier this morning. At around one o’clock,” I replied.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Krista hugged me.

“It’s fine. We had our family Christmas. He died on Christmas Day, we have our Christmas on Christmas Eve so I like to think he spent Christmas with us in his own way,” I said.

“Well, I’m glad you were able to come down here,” Krista said and kissed me again. “Merry Christmas.”

“Getting engaged on Christmas?” Krista’s brother began. “Are you going to get married in June?”

I looked at him, “Are you related to a guy named Tom?” I asked.

Monday, December 19, 2011

You're Letting Out the Heat

Read some news today that the comic strip Ollie and Quentin, the story of a seagull and a worm, will be coming to an end at the end of the year. Piers Baker, creator of the strip, noted earlier this year that sales of his strip were lacking. We wish Mr Baker luck with whatever he works on next.
"Lie in?" I'm gonna let this slide because you are British but don't let it happen again.

Spirit could also be another word for soul so it would make sense that Mother Gargle couldn't be there in spirit because we all know Mother Gargle has no soul.

Is that bush outside an evergreen because no bush should be that green in the dead of winter.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

"Bah!" said Scrooge, "Humbug!"


"At this festive season of the year, Mr Scrooge, ... it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the Poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time. Many thousands are in want of common necessaries; hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir."


"Are there no prisons?"


"Plenty of prisons..."


"And the Union workhouses." demanded Scrooge. "Are they still in operation?"


"Both very busy, sir..."


"Those who are badly off must go there."


"Many can't go there; and many would rather die."


"If they would rather die," said Scrooge, "they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population."

Veeblefester is finally going to get his comeuppance. And that is our Christmas gift from The Born Loser.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Should Be Wearing Glasses All the Time If Your Eyesight Is That Bad


Brutus' face is not conducive to wearing glasses. His nose his too bulbous, his ears too odd looking and his eyes, too close together. Also, I don't think we've ever seen Brutus in glasses. He was doing the bills a couple weeks ago and he wasn't wearing them. I know what Chip should ask Santa for Christmas. A sense of continuity.

Friday, December 16, 2011

Happy Friday

So I have until the 20th to get this Christmas story written and I am not even halfway through. I just need the motivation to get it written but instead waste my time doing other stuff on the computer. Over this weekend I am going to buckle down and get it done because I just looked at the calendar and the 20th is on Tuesday.

You know what? I'm good. Have a good day everyone!

In Memoriam...

We've gotten some sad news over the last week or so. Jerry Robinson, famed comic creator who created the characters of Robin and Joker for Batman passed away last Wednesday at age 89. Joe Simon, famed comic book writer, artist, editor and more who worked alongside Jack Kirby to create Captain America, revamp Sandman, create the Newsboy Legion and the Guardian and establish the series Young Romance passed away yesterday at the age of 98. Eduardo Barreto, popular artist for The New Teen Titans and numerous one-shots and mini-series, also passed away yesterday at age 57.

And last, but certainly not least, Christopher Hitchens, writer, journalist and political critic, passed away yesterday at age 62 after battling cancer.

From left: Robinson, Simon, Barreto and Hitchens.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Stull #24

Katie walked into the Society and heard Frank talking with someone in his office. She listened for a moment until she heard some laughter then she went in. "Hey, Frank. What's going...Lana?!"

Frank and Lana turned to look at Katie. "Hey, Katie. I'm now living in Tontzville so I thought I'd visit Frank. I had some news to give to Frank anyway," Lana said.

"Remember Ryan Collins?" Frank asked Katie.

"Kind of. Quiet, weird kid? Dropped out after sophomore year?"

"I was his friend since Kindergarten. We kind of parted ways during puberty but when he dropped out, we stayed in touch with two or three letters a year. I haven't gotten a letter from him all year. Lana told me today that he killed himself."

"Oh my God, that's horrible!" Katie exclaimed.

"He had a book of poems accepted by a small publisher. It will be released posthumously," Lana said.

"I wish I would've been a better friend. Wrote more letters or to visit him..." Frank said. Frank suddenly stood up. "Katie, I'm going to take the day off. You and John are going to visit Martha Hall, right?"

"We don't have to. We can go tomorrow and you and I could..." Katie tried but Frank interrupted.

"No. Get her story. She's nearly 100 and she says she has proof that an alien crashed on her land back in the thirties. We need to get that down," Frank said.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Lana asked.

"Sure," Frank sighed. "I will see you tomorrow, Katie. Have fun with John and Mrs. Hall."

Frank and Lana left the Society. Katie remained in Frank's office. "Damn," she said.




"1938"
Martha Hall slowly stood up from her wheelchair to open the screen door for John and Katie. She then wheeled away from the door so they could come in. "Thank you for coming. I wasn't sure if your boss would take me seriously," Martha said.

"Frank's not our boss," John corrected.

"You'll have to speak up. I can't hear very well. I'm not young like you two," she said.

"You wanted to talk to us about a spaceship, Mrs. Hall?" Katie asked, shouting so Martha could hear her.

"Spaceship? Oh, yes! Please sit down. There are plenty of places to sit and I'll tell you all about when my husband and me had a spaceship crash into our field," Katie sat down on a couch, a cloud of dust erupted when she sat. John sat down on a recliner and immediately sank into it. "It was April of 1938. April...April 18th, yes."

Katie took out a pen and began writing down what Martha was saying on a notepad that she brought. "I was...I was 23 at the time. Wait. I was born 1915 so, yes, 23. And Jonathan was...Jonathan was...28?"

"Are...are you asking us or telling us?" John asked.

Martha didn't hear him and continued with her story. "We were out on the back porch when we saw a bright light in the sky. We originally thought that they were agricola burn-lightus," Martha said.

Katie stopped writing. "What?"

"What?" turning her ear to Katie. "You'll have to speak up. I don't hear too good. I'm not young like you two."

"Agricola burn-lightus? What is that?" Katie shouted.

"Oh, you know. When lights are in the sky," Martha flittered her hand in the air.

"Aurora borealis?" John asked loudly.

"That's it. Well, that's what we thought it was but then we saw something in the sky. Falling from the sky. And it was getting closer to the ground. It was burning, bright yellow and kind of...flickered in the dark sky. Then we heard it crash behind the tree line on our property. We got in our truck and drove out to where we thought it had crashed," Martha continued. "We saw a...a...oh, what do you call it?"

John and Katie looked at each other and shrugged.

"You know what I'm talking about. A giant hole in our field," Martha said.

"Oh, a crater," John said.

"You'll have to speak up. I don't hear so good. I'm not young like you two," Martha repeated. "We got out of the truck and went to the hole where in the hole we saw a spaceship."

"A spaceship?" John questioned.

"You'll have to speak up..." Martha began.

"A spaceship?!" John repeated louder. "What did it look like?"

"It was green. No, blue. It was a blue bulb shape. With a gold X-shaped contraption attached to it," Martha made an awkward X with her hands. "Jonathan slid down in the hole and when he approached the ship, the blue glass melted away. Inside the ship was the bones of a small child. 'What kind of monster would send a child into space?' we asked each other as Jonathan carried the bones out of the ship."

"So you think a country sent the ship into space, or at least tried to send a ship up into space?" Katie asked loudly.

"At first. Then we decided that the ship was sent from space. In 1938, people weren't trying to get into space," Martha said. "Kennedy got us into that mess in the '60s. But he's better than that..."

John interrupted Martha as he struggled to get out of the recliner. "Okay! What did you do with the spaceship? Did you tell anyone else about the crash?"

"No, we didn't. Police spoke with us but we said we saw the light but that was it. We buried the bones of the child and covered the hole with the ship with a bunch of boards and let the land lay fallow for nearly 80 years," Martha said.

"So the ship is still in the hole?" John asked.

"It should be. Jonathan and I never went back out there," Martha said. "You can drive out there. I can show you where it is."




"I think the part that gets me is why I care so much," Frank began. "We lost touch, we didn't really know what the other became. I still consider him a friend but he's not a friend, if that makes sense."

"It does," Lana reassured. "Now that Ryan is gone, you wish you could've been around to be the friend he may have needed but you have to ask yourself, even if you were around, would Ryan still have committed suicide?"

"Probably not. He was always depressed as a child and teenager. It was probably inevitable but I think what my problem is, is that it's almost been two months and Jen is still missing. I've found no clues to where she is, her boyfriend is blaming me and has even said I killed her and hid the body in one of the many isolated places I've learned about since opening the Society," Frank said. "I want to find. I want to tell her that I love her."

"Do you want to sleep with her?" Lana asked.

Frank looked at her and then nodded his head. "Yeah. I do."

Lana stood up and walked over to Frank. "You really care about this Jen, do you? Like you used to care about me?"

"Lana. What was between you and me is completely different. I can't compare it to anything," Frank chuckled a little.

Lana knelt down in front of him. "That's good. I would like to think that our relationship is one-of-a-kind and special," Lana began unbuttoning Frank pants.




Katie helped Martha out of the car and into her wheelchair. "If you lift up those boards, the hole and the ship should be under them."

John walked over to the rotted board lying on the ground. He bent over and began picking them up. They were nailed together and were lighter than they looked. John pushed away the boards and revealed a large crater in the ground. And in the crater, a gold ship with melted blue glass.

"Oh my God, she's not just a daffy old broad," John said softly.

"This is amazing," Katie said and began taking pictures. "Frank is going to love this."




Frank and Lana lay next to each other in his bed. Frank slowly ran his fingers against Lana's face as she played with his chest hair with her forefinger. "I have missed you so much," Lana said and kissed Frank.

Frank's phone on the nightstand next to the bed chirped. "Oop. Got a text message. Excuse me," Frank rolled over and grabbed his phone and looked at the message from Katie of the gold and blue ship. "Oh my God," he sat up "aliens!"


Next: A giant sinkhole opens up in Stull, destroying much of the town but leading to the return of Jen.


All characters in this story are entirely fictional. Superman and all related characters are Copyright (C) 2011 DC Comics. All rights reserved. Superman created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster.

██████ Are ████, Not ████


I've censored the following, in protest of a bill that gives any corporation and the US government the power to censor the internet--a bill that could pass THIS WEEK. To see the uncensored text, and to stop internet censorship, visit: http://americancensorship.org/posts/20886/uncensor

Oh, ████! ████████████ is ███████ █████ the ██████ of ████ █████ █████ and ████████ ████ ████ a ██████! ████ so you ████, ████████████'s ██████████ is to see if ████ ████ ████ █████ the █████ ███████ of ████████ if it is ████-████ or -█████.

Uncensor This

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

It's Hard Out There for a Pimp

I am not a musician. I've really had no desire to become a musician but I do know a little bit about the music industry such as the bigger a musical genius you are, the more you can be a jerk to people and that if you pirate songs, the RIAA will destroy everything and everyone you hold dear.

The big thing I'm seeing now in movies, TV shows and commercials is that recording artists go into the studio and stand around in the recording booth with nothing to sing.
Apparently soda pop commercials are the worst offenders of this.
Musicians don't just stand around the recording studio waiting for inspiration to hit, they should know what they are going to do because not knowing is a waste of the studio's time, the record company's money and shows a level of unprofessionalism on the artist. Now I'm not saying inspiration doesn't strike while they are in the studio but the people who do the recording are not being paid to record Britney Spears' off-the-cuff ramblings. That's one reason a lot of artists have recording studios in their house so they can do random and unfinished stuff without wasting time and money because no matter how popular and successful an artist is, the record company will not tolerate wasting their time and money on a song that doesn't have music to it, incomplete lyrics and pauses in it.

So the point I'm getting at is musicians work hard to give their fans the best music they can and images like these put in people's heads that musicians can rattle off a song just off the top of their head. I think lyrics can be created but music should take longer. It also puts in people's minds that in just one trip to the recording studio, a masterpiece can be created. Creating a song takes several trips to the recording studio. Several.

 I love Wastrel's pimp hat. And now whenever I want to argue about homeschooling, all I have to do is show people the first panel and say "This guy is a bum!" and the argument is over. And I knew Wastrel wasn't really home-schooled, you know why? He's way too social and doesn't seem at all religious.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

SOPA

█████ I ████ ████ is ███████, ███████ ████ █████ ██████████ ████ to █████████ ██████████. Uncensor This

Think about it. How many websites do you view everyday that post content from other sites? Most of the blogs I read either post other people's content or link to other people's content. The SOPA bill (Stop Online Piracy Act) essentially allows the Department of Justice and copyright holders to seek court orders against accused of enabling or facilitating copyright infringement. I agree, copyright infringement is wrong. But I feel as long as you don't try to claim the work is yours and give credit where credit is due, it should be a non-issue. Take my blog, for example. Most of the strips have been removed and are now gaping holes ruining every post from 2008 to mid-2010. Newer posts showcase the comic strip but the strip isn't uploaded to the blog or my own album, it is linked to the actual site it came from. I keep the copyright information and state at the bottom of the blog and in the About the Born Loser page that I claim no ownership for the strip. The other comic strip blogs I read also do this, the ones that don't, link to a site where the strip is legally hosted.

Depending on who requests the court orders, the actions could include barring online advertising networks and payment facilitators such as PayPal from doing business with the infringing website; barring search engines from linking to such sites and requiring Internet service providers to block access to such sites. As the Internet is set up now under the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, if a copyright owner notices copyright infringement, all they have to do is send a written request to the website asking for the infringing material to be taken down. SOPA would override DMCA and make websites who do not monitor what their readers or uploaders do liable and they could lose advertisers.

Now, do I really believe that SOPA will end up doing what is showcased above with big dark boxes across words like a letter from a POW camp? No. But I do feel that if SOPA is allowed to pass there could be a constriction on what can be posted. I've seen numerous people question why this bill affects them. If you don't post copyrighted material, then you have nothing to worry about. But we all do it. Those links on Facebook and Twitter. Correctly sourced citations on Wikipedia. Those song lyrics you posted as a status, that video from YouTube you just love to replay. All of that is copyrighted and while it does seem extreme, SOPA could make posting links to interesting articles on Facebook illegal and SOPA forces Facebook to monitor and report it.

On December 15th, SOPA is up for markup in the House of Representatives. What that means is the bill will be debated, amended and/or rewritten before being voted on. So there is still time to contact your representative and let them know what you think about this bill. For more information, you can go here.

Not being a fan of Asian foods to begin with, I probably would not patronize an Asian fusion restaurant and seeing this image on Wikipedia...
Japanese/Vietnamese cuisine of smoked salmon wrapped in rice paper with
avocado, cucumber and crab stick.
...reinforces that pledge.

Monday, December 12, 2011

You're Gonna Like the Way You Look*


Brutus, you wear the same damn sweater vest, undershirt and pants everyday. You wear the same work clothes everyday. Why are you going to a store and waste money on clothes we will never see?




*Not a guarantee

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Shut Up and Take the Money

Guess what I've decided to stop doing?

That's right. Sunday Comics. It's just become too much of a hassle and I've decided to just move on to doing what I do best. Making fun of The Born Loser.

Dingle and Schunk? Those sound like the last names of really bad male porn stars which then forces my mind to start thinking about what kind of porn Chip watches. Now I have to go pour bleach in my ear so it can cleanse my brain.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Lindsay But the Thornapples Are Here, Too (NSFW)

We're going to be doing something a little different today as Lindsay Lohan's Playboy pictures have "leaked!" Oh boy! So first there will be a comic then, if you want, you can continue to the NSFW portion of today's post. Let's get started.
Huh? Picture-in-picture doesn't have sound so I can only assume Brutus switches back and forth from channel to channel.

Anyway, I am baffled by these women who know their husbands/boyfriends/fiances are obsessed with sports and constantly complain about it. This clearly isn't a new thing. You knew this about your guy when you started dating. How about taking the time you use to complain about it and use it to get yourself a new hobby?

Friday, December 9, 2011

Sadly, Their House Burned Down Today


Veeblefester, like most rich I know and hear from, believes that if someone works hard their entire life, they will become a millionaire when, in reality, they just live comfortably. Not that there is anything wrong with living comfortably but comfortability =/= millionaire.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Bears. Brutus. Battlestar Galactica.

I originally wasn't going to post today because my day was pretty full with getting cookie ingredients, fixing our Christmas lights and trying to get our tree lights to work. Then I had to get back out to get cookie cutters and a really cool Lawrence, Kansas Christmas ornament. If you want to see it, check it out on my Twitter.

The point of this post is to point out one of the best panels I have seen this year. It comes from today's Mark Trail, which is a strip I normally don't follow so all of this is completely out of context:
If you want context, here is the rest of the strip:
Interestingly, I have no idea what happened to the blue background when I cut down the image. Either way, I hope to use this image of the bear in future posts. For example, today's Born Loser:
See? Isn't that better? And you can happily think that the bear is going to tear Brutus limb from limb then slog off upstairs to do the same to Gladys and Wilberforce.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Harry Morgan, 1915-2011

Harry Morgan, who starred as Officer Bill Gannon on Dragnet from 1966-1970 and Col. Sherman Potter on M*A*S*H from 1975-1983, has passed away. He was 96.

70


Let's all take a moment to remember the events leading up to, during and after the attack on Pearl Harbor which happened 70 years ago today. December 7, 1941, a date which will live in infamy.

I forgot to do a post yesterday because I was busy sitting on my ass doing nothing when there was stuff around the house I could've been doing. Anyway, here's yesterday's strip which features yet another amazing Gladys Thornapple sweater and proof that Brutus built that man-cave he was talking about earlier this year that I can't find the post for.

I love the name Pfeiffer. Did anyone besides me watch UPN's The Secret Diary of Desmond Pfeiffer (the P was not silent)? I only watched that show because it had the guy from The John Larroquette Show in it and I loved that show. The series debuted October 5, 1998 and ended October 28th, only airing four out of nine episodes. The show has Dann Florek, Captain Donald Cragen of Law & Order and Law & Order: SVU fame, portraying President Abraham Lincoln. So there's that.

Monday, December 5, 2011

And, Inexplicably, He Was Gone


There are a lot of words in today's strip. I guess Chip realized that if he's going to not draw a background, he should cover it up with walls of text.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

November Was a Hell of a Month


Calvin and Hobbes
This is one of my favorite Calvin and Hobbes mainly for the last panel and for the image of Calvin flying up into the air.

The Amazing Spider-Man
Did someone cut holes in Mary Jane's shirt? In the next to last panel it looks as if her bra is showing. Not that I'm complaining but showing that kind of stuff in a comic strip children read is daring. I mean, this isn't Arlo & Janis.

Also, yay Thor!

Marvin
As a parent, I can attest to this. When your child hurts himself, it's best to not bring attention to it or else they may cry which is the absolute last thing anyone on the planet wants to hear. Now, clearly if they've hurt themselves into a coma or broken bone then you probably should fawn over that or else the state might take your child away.

Marvin just fell on his butt. The padding caused by his diaper and his fecal matter should make his tush more protected than Fort Knox.

The Born Loser
I am still not used to the new format and it's been around since July. Brutus should start looking into maybe installing sun panels on the roof. I know there is a massive upfront cost for them but the money they'd save on electricity would make it worth it.

We live near a school crossing sign that runs on solar energy and I've been wondering if there's a way I could tap into it and take some of that precious solar power. I mean, the lights only flash from 7:30 to 8 and 3:15 to 3:45 (1:15 to 1:45 Wednesday) on weekdays.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Do We Really Need Another Useless TV Feature?

Guess what happened to me yesterday. Somehow my flash drive became corrupted and I lost everything I had written. That's roughly 50 stories, 2 novels and numerous articles and reviews. Thanks to me posting some stories on Liberty, I was able to get most rewritten by copying and pasting but there are about half a dozen that I am going to have to rewrite because they were scheduled to be posted here for a while. After the catastrophe, I decided to make a list of the stories I've written and go through my notebooks (I hand write everything before I type it up) and found a couple stories that I'm gonna have to rewrite someday and try to make them suitable for publishing.

A couple of these are Calcutta, the story of a mystery in a small Kansas town during the 1880s, and Writer's Block, the story of an author who returns home to work on his new book only to be caught in the middle of his father's corruption scandal. Calcutta was published somewhere else a couple years ago but I took all my stories off that site so that I could start posting them here.

You're welcome.

But then ESPN, really the only network actively using 3D cameras, will have to invent cameras that can pick up smells. I'm sure everybody would love that. Smelling funky, sweaty football and basketball players and the smell of the burning rubber on the NASCAR track. I would never smell because 1)I would never buy a Smell-A-Vision TV and 2)I don't watch a lot of ESPN.

Moral of this post: I don't like 3D Television.