Tuesday, May 29, 2018


I've always enjoyed that Veeblefester hates spending money despite being the richest person in the Cleveland of whatever universe this is. Let's remember that it's not because of his simple and humble upbringing but because he wants to give away as little of his money as possible.

2002 - 2018

Monday, May 28, 2018

Very Well Done

Uh, I guess medium burned...?

Not to brag you guys, but I have a purple shirt exactly like what Mother Gargle is wearing. We're trendsetters.

Sunday, May 27, 2018

Divine Life #2

Before school, Emily Aeschliman met with Graham Ogle. Graham lived in the country and was the person Emily got her drugs from. It was cheap to get them from him. Ten to fifteen minutes going down on him and he would rob a bank for her. She had woken up early to a terrible thought. Her period was over a week late and she worried that the one time she’d had sex had now ruined her life. She bought a pregnancy test two-pack from the gas station that no one ever went to. The first one was negative and she planned to take the second one at lunch.

Graham finished and made the trade with Emily. He drove them to school and they went their separate ways. As she walked down the hallway, she caught a glimpse of Nathan and remembered when they used to be friends. From Kindergarten until sixth grade, the Three Musketeers were her, Nathan, and Frank Raleigh. As she got into pot and boys, she and Nathan and Frank lost contact but Nathan might be someone she really needed right now.

“Hey, Nathan,” Emily went up to him.

“Emily,” he exclaimed. “Hi. How you doing? This is Jeremy, he’s new here.”

Emily looked at Jeremy and nodded. “Hi. Nathan, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

They took a few steps away. “I think I’m pregnant.”

“It’s probably not mine,” Nathan said.

“I know. I took a pregnancy test this morning and it was negative. I’m going to take another at lunch but I think I need to go to the doctor just to make sure,” she explained.

“And you need a ride,” Nathan smiled.

“And some support. Look, I can tell my parents I’m pregnant. I’ve already repeatedly let them down but if I don’t have to tell them anything, I’d prefer not to.”

“Of course I will take you. See if you can make an appointment with a doctor or something for this afternoon. I will take you. Okay?” Nathan grabbed Emily’s shoulders.

“Thanks, Nathan. You’re a good friend,” she hugged him.

“That’s why we don’t hang out anymore,” he replied. They separated and she began going to her first hour class. Nathan joined back up with Jeremy. Another boy was standing with Jeremy. “Hey, Frank.”

“What’d Emily want?” Frank asked.

“She’s having some personal problems,” Nathan said. “Let’s get to class.”

They went into Mr. Taul’s World Geography class and sat down. “What’s going on over there?” Jeremy pointed at a girl wearing a mask on the back of her head.

“That’s Chloe. She’s weird. She started wearing that in eighth grade and hasn’t taken it off since,” Nathan explained.

“It’s like one of those Plague doctor masks,” Jeremy said.

“Like I said, she’s weird,” Nathan said.

At the middle school, Maggie went into her science class for second hour She sat in one of the back seats and got ready for class.

“What the hell are you doing?” said someone who came up next to her. Maggie looked up at the girl--a very tall girl with short, curly hair. She was at least six feet tall. “What are you doing?”

“Sitting here…?” Maggie answered hesitantly, knowing that wasn’t the answer this girl wanted to hear.

“That’s my chair.”

“There are no assigned seats so…”

“I always sit in the back in this spot. In every class.”

“I’m going to be assigning seats so don’t get comfortable,” the teacher said.

The tall girl scoffed and rolled her eyes before walking away. “Hey, you survived your first encounter with Candace. Congratulations,” Savannah said, sitting down next to Maggie.

“She’s an eighth grader? She’s almost as tall as my Dad,” Maggie said.

“Yep. She’s tall which may be why she seems so angry all the time. Nice body though,” Savannah looked over to Candace and eyed her breasts, flat stomach, and long legs.

“What?” Maggie questioned.

“Nothing. I’m Savannah. You’re the new girl, right? I think our brothers have already met.”

“Who’s your brother?”

“Nathan. Nathan Watson.”

“Jeremy hasn’t mentioned him but I’ve been kind of out of it since the move,” Maggie explained.

“Hey, Vans,” an African-American girl came up to them. She had a hoodie tied around her neck and she was wearing a low cut sleeveless shirt. You could she both her sides, her sports bra and, if she turned or moved just right, her abs. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail but the tail was very bushy. They did an odd handshake before fistbumping.

“Hey, Seonna,” Savannah said.

“Ms. Toomey,” the teacher began. “Is what you have on appropriate for school?”

“Yeah,” she answered, a mischievous smile on her face.

“Use your sweatshirt to cover up,” the teacher was serious but had a smile in his voice.

“‘K,” Seonna responded. She took her hoodie and tied the arms around her breasts which covered her sides a bit. She and Savannah fistbumped again and Seonna went to sit next to Candace.

“Seonna is friends with Candace which is why Candace tolerates me more than most others,” Savannah said. “Seonna’s pretty cool.”

“Seems like it,” Maggie replied.

“And don’t worry, Candace will get over you stealing her seat.”

“That’s good. Don’t want to have a lifelong enemy on my first day of school,” Maggie laughed awkwardly.

“Yeah,” Savannah glanced back at Seonna and Candace then quickly turned to the front of the class as the bell rang.

In math, Jeremy was assigned a desk next to Chloe. She still had that mask on the back of her head. The teacher was talking, giving introductions and expectations, and Jeremy listening was kind of in and out, he was mostly watching Chloe draw.

“That’s a plague mask, right?” Jeremy whispered.

“What the doctors wore, yes,” Chloe answered.

“Can I ask why you wear it to school?”

“I like it. It makes me stand out,” Chloe smiled. “Plus, you never know when another pandemic will strike.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“Although this is a reproduction so it may not actually work very good.”

“Well, here’s hoping you never have to find out,” Jeremy giggled which got Chloe to giggle.

“Excuse me,” the math teacher said. “Eyes and ears up here.” Both Jeremy and Chloe blushed and smiled at each other.

After math, another girl in class, Christine, caught up with Jeremy. “Jeremy? Jeremy Davis?”


“It’s so cool that your family moved here,” she began.

“Ah, a fan. So you like my Mom’s novels, huh?”

“Yes. I started writing fan fiction about the stories,” Christine revealed.

“Okay…” Jeremy rarely had people come up to him to gush about his mom and when they did, she was usually with him.

“Sorry. I know I sound like a stalker. I just want to welcome you here. See you around,” and she broke off and went into a classroom. Jeremy continued to his next class.

Christine had gravitated toward the Honey Creek series like all the other readers because it offered them something their current life didn’t at the moment. Christine lived alone with her dad who was an older man, older than the other parents. Her mom had died in a car accident when she was four and her older sister died in another car accident four years ago when she was a senior. It was a drunk driving accident--she was drunk and she was driving. What would’ve been her graduation ceremony was dedicated to her. Christine thought it was odd, all the tributes and people saying how great she was. People easily skipped over the part where she died doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing.

Since then, Christine had always been compared to her sister which was why she tried as hard as she could to not be like her sister. As soon as she sat down, she pulled out a composition notebook and continued writing.

The next day, Nathan and Emily called each other into school and left for a doctor in Topeka. They always went to Manhattan which was slightly closer but Nathan thought finding out if Emily was pregnant was something people they never saw only needed to know. For most of the drive the two were quiet, mainly filling the quiet with small talk about their friends, school, or jokes created long ago.

They Don't Look Wet

We've updated the terms and services of our privacy settings. I don't track what happens here. I can see what country you are from but that's pretty much it. I am not sure what the advertisements on my site track but probably your location and what device you are using. I choose the ads that show up and they are geared to the page, not the visitor. I also don't save your information if you email me or do anything nor do I send unsolicited emails or messages on social media. It should also be clear that I am a real person and not some sort of bot hoping to skew elections to whoever will serve my purpose. As of this post, I do use Google so you might be wary of that.

My first sixth grade graduated this past week. I can't believe it's already been three years at this school and a full six years since I began working in education. I didn't think it would be something I would enjoy doing as much as I do. Seeing these kids everyday and watching them grow up into young adults before ushering them into high school is actually pretty rewarding. And now that school is out and I have all this extra time on my hands, I can get some additional writing done.

First, I have restarted my Patreon page and already have three months of planned posts ready to go on it including two new series and the first few chapters of novels that I am working on. I am also working on the Story Series that are published here and starting several short stories and research on some regional history including Naomi Tanner, Jotham Meeker and Salmon Prouty, Commodore True, and Mrs. C.B. Littleton. If you enjoy my writing and would like to support my stories or my research, please consider giving money at Patreon or buying me a cup of coffee at Ko-Fi.

I go very few sporting events. In fact, I can count on one hand--well, maybe two now--the number of sporting events I have been to. George Brett's last game with the Kansas City Royals, at least 4 Kansas University men's basketball games, and a Kansas University football game where not only they lost (because that is what they do) but also had a rain delay.
Hey, it's a real-life Brutus and Wilberforce situation.

Saturday, May 26, 2018


Did Wilberforce not notice how not bright it was? Eh, who cares? Why is he holding his wrist that way to look at the watch. Is his wrist broken? Did Wilberforce not only put the watch on upside down but also on the side of his wrist?

Friday, May 25, 2018

Never Ahead

Is this comic worded strangely? Shouldn't the second panel be "When you can't ahead in the first place?" Brutus' response of "Check." also seems odd since "Yep" or even complete silence would've been better. Oh, well. I guess not every day can be a winner.

Thursday, May 24, 2018

Veeblefester Is Kind of Like Ivanka

Hey, everything I've ever thought about Veeblefester is true. Like most rich people, he inherited his wealth and company. And at a fairly young age. I still don't quite understand how the tea cozy business can be profitable but whatever. It probably has to do with China or something.

Wednesday, May 23, 2018

"I Am Brutus. Please Insert Girder."

Brutus is clearly having a stroke (or heck, is already dead) but Veeblefester is still just concerned with the bottom line. Luckily, he has a massive life insurance policy on Brutus which is probably why Veeblefester keeps Brutus around.

For reference on the title.

Tuesday, May 22, 2018

Diner Soup

I don't care if Brutus likes clam chowder or not, I want to talk about buying seafood-based products at this diner. I wouldn't. Yes, I understand that the diner probably just buys giant food service cans of condensed soup and adds water to it but still, I'd rather be safe than sorry.

Monday, May 21, 2018

Monday Smells

Here you go. A comic strip that says "I love the smell of Monday in the morning!" posted in the late evening. Don't deny it. You love it.

Sunday, May 20, 2018

Supercomics #13

“That’s a soul?” Geo-Whiz asked as CBX stood among them.

CBX was a covert team formed as kind of an anti-government police force. Seeing all the injustice caused by a system supposedly created to help, protect, and serve, these friends formed a task force to combat these injustices and more. Charles was the leader who was good with firearms and projectiles. Lucy knew many forms of fighting. Linus was a computer and technology master and brilliant scientist and inventor. Sally was a problem solver and master of disguise.

“This is the soul of a being called Madame Spectre. She is an omnipotent demigod who is the only one who can change fate,” Linus explained.

“So why isn’t that soul part of someone?” Agent Spider asked. “Why isn’t it with this Madame Spectre person?”

“Unfortunately, Madame Spectre passed away,” Linus said.

“These things happen from time to time with omnipotent demigods,” Sally interrupted.

“The soul has to find the new Madame Spectre and that takes time,” Charles informed.

“So what are we doing with that and why do you need our help?” Superkitten asked, tired of the presentation.

“First, we need to find a vessel for the soul,” Charles said.

“And why hasn’t that happened?” Geo-Whiz asked, raising his hand.

“You don’t have to raise your hand,” Superkitten told him.

“The right vessel has to be found. As I said, that takes time. The soul searches through billions of people. It can’t be just anyone,” Charles said. “This is omnipotent power. Nearly everything would be at your command.”

“So you want us to help you find a vessel?” Superkitten asked.

“What we mostly need your help with is keeping the person who’s after the soul away,” Charles explained.

“And who would that be?” Geo-Whiz asked, raising his hand.

“Dude,” Superkitten slapped Geo-Whiz’s shoulder.

“She goes by the name Mrs. S. We thought you’d be helpful to us since Mrs. S. used to be Dmitri’s wife,” Charles said, pointing at Dmitri who was standing in the corner.

“They took the soul to my fool husband and that superhero team he’s in charge of,” Mrs. S. complained as she paced in her computer room. “That will make it significantly harder to get it back.”

“You want I should punch something?” a man watching Mrs. S. said. He was Jack Strand, a partner and henchman for her. His strength and body were like steel.

“No. No, dear Jack. Thanks for offering though,” Mrs. S. smiled at him.

“I know you like it when I get all violent and stupid,” Jack smiled back. “So how are we going to get the soul?”

“I think a full-on offensive would work. At least enough to confuse them and grab the soul. We can send an army of Zeroes which they will have to defend against while we go and grab the soul. I should’ve gotten rid of Dmitri when I had the chance. Only wounding him is my only regret,” she sighed.

“So what happened?” Superkitten asked.

“Yeah, this makes you about 75 percent cooler, Dmitri,” Chimney Girl leaned forward.

“Dish, Dmitri,” Fire grinned.

“It’s not that great of a story. We met when we were young. She didn’t want to be tied down which I was fine with because we were just having fun but then she got pregnant and was stuck with me. She began harboring resentment toward me then she gave birth. Things were fine early on but once Vanessa started changing, she got angry. She wanted out. She shot me and left. I haven’t seen her since,” Dmitri explained.

“She sounds like a terrible person,” Agent Spider said. “How’d you stay with her so long?”

“I was blinded...stupid. It doesn’t matter. We need to protect that soul and stop Virginia,” Dmitri said.

“Her name’s Virginia?” Charles asked. “Well, that makes her slightly less intimidating.

The Zeroes headed toward the school building. Zeroes were the name given to an android army that Mrs. S had created. They acted and looked like humans, which made people wary of going full force on them but they were just robots.

The All-American Corps saw them coming. “We have activity,” Geo-Whiz said, looking at the monitor.

“Let me see,” Linus came over and looked. “Okay, they are just Zeroes. Androids that seem a lot like humans but they are just robots so there is no need to hold back.”

“Spider, Fire and I will take care of them. Be on the lookout for Mrs. S,” Superkitten said.

“Seems quiet,” one of the Zeroes said.

“Yeah, too quiet,” another said. “Aren’t we going after a highly skilled superhero team with all sorts of technology at their disposal?” the Zero looked over and saw that the other Zero was now missing its head. “Damn.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Fire said before setting the Zero on fire, melting it.

The three of them continued their assault on the Zeroes. A few Zeroes actually seemed to put up a fight but most were easily put out of commission.

“This is weird,” Superkitten said, walking over to Fire. “Something doesn’t seem right.”

“I agree. Something’s off.”

Elsewhere on the property, Agent Spider was dealing with two of the Zeroes. Two that had actually put up a fight. He had managed to rip off the arm of one and webbed the other. He shot a web at the one-armed Zero and swung it into the other causing both of the Zeroes to spark and break down.

Agent Spider then tried to figure out where Superkitten and Fire might be. He heard a stick break and then a fist hit him across the jaw. Agent Spider landed on the ground and briefly felt his skull on fire before all life went from him.

“Sorry I couldn’t let you go all out on him but we need to do this fast,” Mrs. S said, holding a plasma gun.

“That’s okay. How will we get the other two over here?” Jack asked.

“With this,” Mrs. S pulled out a regular gun and fired two shots. One into the air and the other into Agent Spider then they ran off toward the school.

A few seconds later, Superkitten and Fire arrived at where Agent Spider lay. Fire bent down and felt Spider’s neck. “Dead,” she said softly.

“We have a team member down,” Superkitten announced into her communicator. “We need everyone ready to go but make sure the soul is protected.”

Everyone in the school building came to attention. Everyone got ready and headed out of the building. Linus was in a vault with Smoke guarding the soul. “I’m gonna go. Can you protect the soul?”

Smoke nodded. “Yeah.”

“All right. We’ll try to handle Mrs. S. Do what you can to protect the soul in case we can’t.”

“Will do. Good luck.”

Linus left the room and the door closed. Smoke went over to the single monitor and tried to make out what was going on by changing the channels. It seemed to get brighter in the room and when Smoke noticed, she turned around and saw the soul glowing brightly. “What the…?” Smoke went over and reached out toward it. She was engulfed in the light and when the light went away she was in a white body suit with stars in her hair. “What just happened?” she asked herself.

Batting Practice

I. Some Changes
I have made a few changes on social media and on the site. I have decided to put my Instagram on hiatus until further notice. I plan on using Twitter to do more history posts and, of course, the Tauy Creek Facebook Page as well. On the site, both The Point of Beginning and Time Man have come to an end and will be replaced with Tank N Tummy, which is moving over from my now-defunct Patreon, and West Union Road, a 5-issue miniseries. Hopefully you'll enjoy them and you can always let me know what you think in the comments, the contact form, or on social media.

II. The Miller Family and Prairie City
Since about 2000, I have been doing research on a family that lived in the ghost town of Prairie City. Through my own fault and ignorance, my research into them had been sporadic until very recently. I've been so lucky lately to find just the right information and approach the right people to get additional information to help me piece together information. My hope is to write not only an article on the family and their contributions to local and state history but also a book that uses their story alternating with a story taking place in modern day Kansas. Despite the family being just a simple family, their contributions to the area, and to a couple of other states, we very important. The issue I have is that I am racing the clock against students at Washburn University.

Washburn is offering a class next fall that goes into the Millers and Prairie City and their connection to Kansas history and life on the prairie. While I am excited that this class is being conducted (I honestly wish I could be a part of it), I feel like I need to do as much I can over the summer to finish my research and get the article written and book outlined. What needs to be done is a trip to the Baker University archives to get information from their records and repeated trips to the Kansas State Archives to search through almost 100 years of newspapers looking for information. But I also have other things that I am researching but the priority right now, are the Millers. The research and work needed to get this done leads us to our third bit of housekeeping.

III. Support Tauy Creek
If you would like to support what I write or my research or just like what I do, feel free drop some money in my PayPal or buy me a coffee on Ko-Fi.

You know, Brutus has given his son the 'born loser' gene--yes, being a loser is apparently genetic, maybe someday we'll see an ad on TV about a pill or injection that can keep it at bay--so it should be kind of uplifting that everybody else is just as terrible as Wilberforce.

Unless, of course, that being a born loser isn't just something in your DNA but also something that radiates. Like radium.

Saturday, May 19, 2018

Double-Up Saturday

Wilberforce: "Father, wouldst thou like some soup?"

Brutus: "What?"

Wilberforce: "I'm making some soup for you, Papa. Please come sit at the table."

Brutus: "What the hell is going on?"

*Brutus sits down at table. Wilberforce brings in soup.*

Wilberforce: "Here you go, Daddy. Your soup. Take caution, it's still hot."

Brutus: "Are you having a stroke?"

*looks down at soup*

Brutus: "Okay, Mr. Smarty-Pants..."

Is it me or is Gladys becoming more of a nag? What's going on in Chip's home life that is causing this? Also, since Brutus is the only one in the house that actually does any work, I don't think Gladys is really in the best position to complain.

Thursday, May 17, 2018

Why That Hair?

I'd say that Brutus will demand his money back and storm out of the diner but we all know that won't happen. Brutus will always come back to this diner. He'll always come back. And eat. Until he dies.

The guy could've at least worn gloves.

Wednesday, May 16, 2018

Better Than Bae Though

You know, the longer I've read this comic strip and the more I've developed a sympathetic ear for Brutus, the more I really don't like Gladys. Brutus literally does all the work but seems to get none of the credit. Today, Brutus just wants a little affection from Gladys and all she gives him is "insignificant other". You don't have to take that Brutus. There are places you can go that can protect you from her.

Or better yet...

Tuesday, May 15, 2018


He has a desk job. Why would people be huddled around watching Brutus work? On a further note, don't those people watching Brutus also have jobs?

Monday, May 14, 2018

Over Par

I know the point of golf is to get below 100 but for a lot of people, isn't 110 pretty good? According to one golfing website, it's said that 108 is a good score for a beginning golfer. I know Brutus isn't a beginner but when 45% of golfers have a 100 or above, 110 is a decent score.

I've now researched way too much on golf scores and am now going to blow my brains out.

Sunday, May 13, 2018

Time Man #5


Employees arriving at the museum heard the pounding and it got louder as they went to their workstations on the ground floor. Dr. Schnebly followed the sound to his office and saw the giant mummy pounding on the door to the research lab. Fist-sized bulges had started to show up on the door.

“What do we do?” another museum employee asked Dr. Schnebly.

“For the time being, hope that door holds,” Dr. Schnebly said. “Call the police and tell them what’s happening. And possibly the military.”

Eleanor woke up and saw Harold sitting in a chair holding Maggie and staring out the window. “Harold? Is everything all right?” she got out of bed and walked over to him.

“I’m thinking about Time Man. I know I’ve been back and forth on whether or not I should still be Time Man. I don’t think I’m making a difference at all. If anything, it seems like there are more bad guys out there,” Harold explained.

“Maybe it seems that way because you are seeing them more. You’re on the front lines seeing this. Sometimes they actually come after you. I think there is the same amount of crime in the world, you’re just seeing it all differently now,” Eleanor explained. “You’ve taken on a huge responsibility that no one asked you to do. If you want to quit, then quit.”

But knowing what I know makes it very hard to do that. I could always just put the sundial back on the shelf of the fix-it shop but I wouldn’t be able to forget it. I’d always want to grab it and help someone.”

“I think you already know the answer on whether or not you still want to be Time Man,” Eleanor said.

Harold looked up at Eleanor and smiled. “I should get downstairs to work,” he said. He and Eleanor kissed and she took Maggie from him.

Harold went downstairs and saw Martin sitting on the sill of the window, waiting for the fix-it shop to open. Harold smiled and unlocked the door. “Sorry I’m late, Martin,” Harold welcomed enthusiastically. “Good morning, how are you?”

“I’m good, Mr. Banner. You seem in a chipper mood.”

As Harold closed the door, tires squealed nearby. A car roared by, nearly hitting somebody. A couple of shots rang out from inside. “I have to go stop them,” Harold said, reaching for the sundial on his wrist. “Martin, I’m going to show you something. Can you keep a secret?”

“Sure can,” Martin replied. Harold activated the sundial and turned into Time Man. Martin’s eyes grew big and his jaw dropped. “You’re…?”

Harold smiled and nodded.


Time Man took off toward the car. “We’ll talk when I get back.” Time Man flew after the car. The car was speeding and driving up onto the sidewalk, nearly hitting people, still shooting at random out of the window. Time Man caught up, grabbed the car and lifted it over his head. He brought it down, smashing it several times against a fire hydrant. “There. Now you’re all ready for the police.”

Time Man flew up and disappeared. Harold returned to the Fix-It Shop. “Did you get them?” Martin asked.

“Yep. About four blocks away,” Harold thumbed,.

“So you’re just Time Man?”

“Come into the workshop and I’ll tell you all about it.”

The mummy was free. It had laid waste to the museum, the employees, and anyone else who got near. The plan was to evacuate and keep everyone away. It was the only plan that was feasible. The mummy was tearing up a path through a good section of Golden City. It had gotten to the Golden Plaza when Harold got word of the destruction.

He turned into Time Man and rushed to the Golden Plaza where the monster had destroyed several buildings and killed numerous people. Time Man flew down and immediately dove into the mummy. For a couple of minutes, Time Man had the upper hand, striking the mummy repeatedly, keeping it off-balance and away from the people.

But the mummy regained its composure and began giving Time Man a taste of his own medicine. Dazed by the hits, the mummy grabbed Time Man and threw him into McLaren Tower and then jumped after him.

The mummy tossed Time Man around the building. Time Man’s uniform became tattered. The mummy held him up by the neck and raised his other fist for a crushing blow. Time Man attempted to reach for his sundial but the mummy, using quick reflexes, grabbed Time Man’s wrist and squeezed, crushing his wrist and destroying the sundial.

Time Man screamed in pain as he changed back into his civilian clothes. Harold began to panic and struggle to get out of the chokehold the mummy had him in. Harold started to pass out when the mummy’s grip loosened. Someone else had slammed full force into the mummy causing Harold to be let go.

Harold regained his vision and saw a figure in a blue suit and red cape. “Supercat?” he barely remembered the name of the so-called hero that was supposedly under hypnosis when he leveled a neighborhood in New York City. Seeing the six foot cat was an odd sight but short-lived as they fell through the floor.

“Come on. Get up,” someone said, pulling Harold to his feet.

Harold made it outside and to safety. He watched as a paramedic bandaged his wrist, Supercat and the mummy battle through the windows of the nearly ruined building. From the crowd, Harold heard a couple people ask about what happened to Time Man. He couldn’t tell them that the sundial had been destroyed and Time Man was no more.

A corner of the Tower collapsed and all noise from the fighting stopped. No one came out of the rubble. People began moving toward where the fight had stopped. Several minutes later, Supercat and the mummy barrelled their way out of the rubble. People ran away in terror for both the mummy and Supercat. Supercat was trying to keep the mummy--who was less like a mummy now that its wrappings had been torn off and more like a bulky gray husk.

Hitting him and having buildings fall on him aren’t working, Supercat thought. Maybe this will do something. Heat vision shot out of Supercat’s eyes and hit the mummy with full force. The mummy screamed and began to smoke.

“It’s working,” Supercat said. The heat vision ate away at the mummy until only ash remained. Supercat headed down to the police. As he approached, a crowd gathered. The police kept their weapons drawn. He got closer and someone threw a bottle at him. It shattered and the crowd grew unruly. They booed and threw more things at Supercat.

Supercat lowered his head and then flew off away from the city. Harold saw how everyone treated Supercat and hung his head as well, turned and began walking back to the Fix-It Shop.

When Harold got back to the shop, Martin was still there. “What happened?”

“Giant mummy. Another superhero--a cat in a blue suit--stopped it. The mummy destroyed the sundial. Time Man is essentially dead.”

“Can’t you fix the sundial?”

“Maybe but I think this is a sign. Maybe Time Man will be back. Maybe not,” Harold smiled and put the sundial back on the shelf where he originally found it.

Supercat inspired by characters created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster.

Blonde Jokes Are Still a Thing?

For those of you like the idea of physical media for your webcomics, there is a new Kickstarter that you should look into. Brian Russell of Underfold Comics has chosen over 135 of his favorite comics over the past two years and is putting them into a collection called Hi Book, I'm Dad. But you don't have to listen to me. Head over Kickstarter and read about it for yourself. You can also read more of his comics on his website or become a patron and get exclusive material there.

If you would like to support my writing and my research, you can buy me a cup of coffee on Ko-Fi.

Look, if I wanted to read about a married couple embarrassing themselves at a party and then getting all angry at each other for it, I'd read The Lockhorns. I'm a little amazed that Brutus told a dumb blonde joke in today's social climate. Hashtag: Watch Yourself, Brutus.

Friday, May 11, 2018

Late Friday

Yeah, it worked out great. He's a mediocre middle management peon at a tea cozy company in Cleveland, Ohio. Whoop-de-doo.

Thursday, May 10, 2018

They Know They're a Comic?

Apparently the number 53 is something to get all excited about. I am a strict anniversary conventionist. 1-10, you can celebrate every year then it goes 20, 25, 30, 40, 50, 75, 100, and then every 25 after that. Unless you're Garfield, then you can celebrate every year. But only Garfield.

Wednesday, May 09, 2018


I've started using a new conditioner that is tea tree and mint. I really like the smell of it. I don't know what kind of perfume Gladys is wearing--probably some sort of flowery/naturey concoction because that's what all perfume is. I guess Gladys shouldn't have ate an entire chocolate cake before spritzing herself with her new Macy's brand knock-off perfume.

Tuesday, May 08, 2018



Maybe that's why things in his department are slipshod because Brutus doesn't even act like he's in charge of a department.

Monday, May 07, 2018


Brutus is very hurt by the fact that Gladys is eating the last doughnut but then very angry when he remembers that they were going to share. Share how? Did they have an even number and now Gladys has eaten what was supposed to be his doughnut? Were they each going to eat half of that doughnut? I got a lot of questions about that doughnut.

Sunday, May 06, 2018

POB #10: All-Negro Comics

Prior to 1966, comic books were mostly segregated. Actually, they weren't really segregated, black people just didn't have their own comic books. Any African American characters that existed were usually sidekicks or even tertiary characters used for comedy. They were also one giant stereotype, being caricatures of the most "humorous" parts of African Americans. In the 1940s, a few publishers tried creating comics specifically for the African American audience but most were still written and/or drawn by white men and if they were drawn by black people, it was not advertised as such.

All-Negro Comics was founded and published by Orrin C. Evans. Evans was a newspaper reporter, the only African American on staff at the Philadelphia Record. He wrote about segregation in the armed forces and was kicked out of a Charles Lindbergh press conference because of his color. In 1947, Evans tried his hand at a comic book written and drawn completely by African Americans. It was a bold endeavor and, as far as historians can tell, All-Negro Comics was distributed outside Philadelphia although the book is considered pretty rare.

All-Negro Comics also introduced the very first black superhero, Lion Man, created by Orrin and his brother George. Marvel's Black Panther, considered the first black superhero, was introduced in 1966. Evans had plans to publish a second issue but was unable to acquire the newsprint that he needed, probably due to discrimination. Evans returned to journalism, his writing appearing in numerous African American journals and magazines. Evans passed away in 1971.