Introducing...A Catfish

Here you go. Here’s some comic action for your palette. Take it home. Chew on it for awhile. It’s delicious. While I’m quite certain that not all creatures of the animal kingdom have refused to take a name upon themselves, I like the idea of a mutant-looking, short-tempered catfish hanging around drinking beer with salamanders.

Well, now that that’s out of the way, it’s time for us to move on to other matters. We need to have a serious discussion. And I’m pretty sure that you already know what about. In California, there is a town called “Shitsville, USA,” although it is known to most everyone else as “Hollywood.” Back in the day, Shitsville was known for dishing out some of the tastiest films ever made, including such grand flicks as Harvey, Lawrence of Arabia, and Leonard Part Six. These days, however?

We get Material Girls and The Same Fucking Horror Movie You’ve Already Seen In Eight Different Trilogies Part Two.

Let’s face it. America likes to see the same bullshit over and over again. We love it. We can’t get enough. Shovel Chuck Norris down our throats. And then do it again in twenty different movies. How old is he? 52? Fuckin’ perfect. Pump out a sequel to The Bodyguard, stat! We haven’t made a Die Hard movie in ten years? Who the fuck is on this shit?!? Get Carl up here immediately!! Clean out your fucking desk, Carl! You don’t work here anymore!! What?! People might not like the title Die Hard 4.0? Let’s call it…Live Free or Die Hard. We’ll fool the whole world!!

And where the fuck is Jurassic Park 4?! (You think I’m kidding. But I’m not)

Hold up, hold up, HOLD THE GO**AMN PHONE. Warner Brothers are producing a movie about the Battle of Thermopylae? It looks good?! Are we allowed to fire Warner Brothers?

Thanks a bunch, Shitsville. Hope the next fifty years are as profitable as the last. Fuck this. I say we go to the Serengeti. By this time tomorrow we could be doing body shots off hyenas in some Mogadishu hellhole!!

Blue Collar Life

Ah....the lazy, wasted life of a salamander. I am quite fond of the crestfallen look on Bigwig's face in the third panel. It makes me laugh with glee. I should work on their emotions. And for all of you who were wondering...my work may not be on par with Bill Peet or Seiji Gailey, but I seriously could not give any less of a fuck. I like my artwork. I like my goofy-looking, unrealistic salamanders, and even if I could draw them to look like this, I would keep my simplistic, unorthodox design. And yes, their eyes look like that on purpose. I throw that in there to show that yes, while our heroes may speak articulately and with vulgarity, and they may have found the way to drink beer underwater, and will most like at some point find a way to light up a bong while immersed in a swamp, they are still unintelligent. Woo-hoo.

You know, I'm not really sure why I named the comic "Of Warts and Other Matters." Salamanders don't have warts.

Shit, yeah they do. Ha ha. Nevermind.

The shiznit. Fo' cereal!

I cannot say that I have played Kingdom Hearts 2. I can, however, say that if I was trying to get high while playing Resident Evil 4, the button-mashing cut scenes would kill me every time. And he's right. You don't need to load the shotgun. They did that shit fo' you.

Introducing...Salamanders.

It has been widely theorized that salamanders are the dumbest and dullest creatures on God’s green Earth. To those naysayers who would have us believe this false truth, I have only one thing to say:

“Nay.”

For the earthworm takes the cake on that pile of shit, my friends. Seriously. Half the time you can’t even see the goshdamn things because they’re UNDERGROUND. What the hell is that shit about? Bunch of damn weenies if you ask me. Earthworms, I mean. Not salamanders. They’re not particularly brave, they’re just…dumb. At any rate, the salamander with two prongs on his gills is Hazel. The one with three is Bigwig. Hazel, while not particularly bright, is the smarter of the two. Bigwig, however, is bigger, fatter, and slightly duller, as well.

More will follow on the adventures of these two.

Ahh......Smell That Fresh Air!

Like Michael Beihn in that Terminator flick, this blog has not so much been born as it has been eletrically shoved through the asshole of space and time to be here now, its purpose mysterious and its mission equally as dire.

I'm so full of shit.

After extensive philosophical pondering on the nature of the universe, as well as the fact that I want to post all my thoughts on a webpage without it being myspace, I decided, like Zach, to create a blog and post stuff on it. Now, odds are I'll be worse than Zach at keeping up with a post schedule, so for now we'll just say that by Wednesday of every week, something new might be up. Maybe. If, you know, you're lucky. We'll see. Anyway! Obviously, there is nothing up right now. But all that shall change, friends...all that shall change.

More will follow!