Good Fer Nuthin'

Art and sketches by myself and some of the more interesting art, humor, science and weirdness I come across on the web.

[goodfornuthin]

Tales of Congressional Horror, episode 53627:⁣

Scene: The Congressional Committee begins to question former Trump senior advisor, racism enthusiast, tampon model and ghost-white ding-dong, Stephen Miller for his role in the January 6th Insurrection and other Trump administration crimes.⁣

Miller sits in his chair, unmoving, glaring dead-eyed at the dais of elected official, not reacting to the weight of the cameras focused on him, their lights nearly shining through his unappealing, translucent body.⁣

Question after question is fired at Mr. Miller and he does not answer. Does not move. Does not blink. ⁣

Angered to the point of spittle, both Senators Thompson and Cheney call for him to be held in contempt and removed from the proceedings. ⁣

A pair of weary Congressional bailiffs approach the Slenderman look-a-like contest winner. They wait a moment for him to comply. Still Miller does not move.⁣

Members of this chamber begin to be heard through the den of chatter and mutters. They are heard to shout "Lock him up!" or "Throw him out!" and "Put a bag on his face because he's genuinely hard to look at!"⁣

One of the bailiffs grabs his shoulder. Sticky ooze slides through the fabric of Miller's suit. Like a soiled sponge being rung out. ⁣

Aghast, the bailiff pulls his hand, now burning as if covered in acid, back reflexively. ⁣

Miller crumples and falls to the table, ooze splattering on papers and people nearby. His hollow skin collapses from its own weight.⁣

That's when they knew. Stephen Miller had molted. Completed his gestation stage. Now a brood of metamorphosed Millerites were loose in the building somewhere. Waiting to feed. Hunting their prey. Wanting only to eat the delicious excrement they crave, the very sustenance the Miller Prime ate for years as his only meal.⁣

As the crowd began to panic, wet skittering and sliding could be heard, sounding like slugs on amphetamines. Then the far off high pitched screeching and guttural clicking sounds. Getting closer. Getting much closer.⁣

That's when the light went out.

[goodfornuthin]

Dear writing staff of SUPERNATURAL:

While I am aware this is a show about duck-faced male models subverting their mutual lust for one another by hunting low budget fantasy creatures, it still strains credulity that the Winchester boys can't think of a less-awkward-to-say nickname for the British Men of Letters. Shit, Dean once named some new monsters "Jefferson Starships" so we know he has it in him. I can take rougarous and wendigos, but I cannot sustain my suspension of disbelief when I hear them say "British Men of Letters" every 2 minutes.

[goodfornuthin]

Dear Young or Hungry Artists,

Never EVER work for free. If someone asks you to submit work to them and they'll pay you in "exposure," they are stealing from you. If they ask you to produce work "on spec," meaning they'll pay you if they "like" it or if it earns a profit afterwards, they are stealing from you. If they frame their request as a "contest" where they will pay the "winner" that means they are stealing from you....even if you "win."

You, as a creative, have likely spent thousands of hours and thousands of dollars over many, many years honing your skill and building through hard work and experience a unique talent and voice. You've likely bought expensive equipment and supplies and probably have a pricey degree in addition to a portfolio of work to prove your worth.

If your work is worthwhile enough for someone to want to have it or use it to support their own endeavors, you deserve to be paid. Anything else not only devalues your own talents, hard work and personal investments, but it contributes the same to all your creative comrades out there doing the same thing you are trying to do: make a living by creating art.

What you do is of value. Don't let people scam you out of what you are worth.

~ An Artist Who Has Been Doing This 30 Years.

[goodfornuthin]

So....Trump presidency, eh? We're done here, right? With this civilization thing? I mean, we gave it the ol' college try. No shame in that. Guess I'll just wait here for the apocalypse. Yeah... *whistles* Hey...uh...is there, like, a way we can speed up this whole deal? Like, everyone spray aerosol at once...just wipe that ozone layer out for good? I mean, there's no time like the present... *whistles* Maybe the next creatures to take over will get it right. I'm hoping for super-intelligent raccoons next. So cute. But let's be honest, it'll probably be octopusses...um...octopussies? Octopi? Those guys. *whistles* Well, guess this apocalypse is gonna slow burn. Might as well get a sandwich, I guess.

[goodfornuthin]

2 years ago I wrote this dumb memorial to my friend.

So, two years ago tomorrow, a dear friend of mine died. With my liver soaked in bourbon and my eyes soaked in tears, I wrote a little bit about what I was going through and how much I cherished our friendship. It oddly involved Parks & Recreation (the TV show) and Nick Offerman. And horses. And dicks. Here is that memorial: "So Nathaniel Daigle and I would discuss many things. Two of the things we talked about this year were horses. No, really. One was looking for ways for us both to focus and get back on our creative horses. The other was a show we both liked called Parks & Recreation, which had a much beloved miniature horse name Lil' Sebastian as a recurring gag/character. Stick with me here, this'll make sense. Sort of.

Natty complained to me that Parks & Rec, with it's nearly weekly sweet, saccharin moments, made him tear up almost every episode. (I say "complain,” but he really liked it…Natty liked to feel things and wasn't afraid to talk about how he felt). I could sympathize, too. I love that show and yeah, it got me choked up frequently…the characters seem to pathologically do sweet things for one another, affirming their friendships. That shit is like emotional high octane fuel for me, and this was true for Natty, as well, I believe. I think that's one of the many reasons he and I got along so well and were such fast friends…we were both sensitive artist types…you know: pussies. As arty pussies, the eloquence of our creativity could ebb and flow as we emotionally journeyed through life.

Creativity and the drive to make art can be a fickle steed…sometimes you are guiding it, sometimes you are just along for the ride, and sometimes you can just get lost riding the damned thing. Natty seemed to slowly be getting his horse back in check and was starting to produce art again. I was getting back in the saddle a bit slower (this horse metaphor is wearing thin), but he was inspiring me. Seeing him get that drive back made me want it myself even more. He had suggested before that we should start painting together at his studio, and recently…months later, in fact…I had finally decided that was something I wanted to start doing. I was hoping to get with him soon, to discuss it in detail.

Now this may seem like a digression, but allow me to explain the Lil' Sebastian "character" on Parks & Rec: he was a prize miniature horse and beloved local icon in the town of Pawnee, Indiana, the setting for the show. Not long after Natty and I became friends, they killed off the horse in an episode and the entire town had a huge memorial event. Much like Natty, Lil' Sebastian was beloved by many and his life was celebrated in a grand fashion (I want to make a horse penis joke here, but I'm drawing a blank). One of the characters even wrote a ridiculous song called "5000 Candles in the Wind" to honor the fallen wee horsey. Again, I know this seems dumb, but stick with me.

When I heard my friend had died last week, like everyone else, I was devastated. I spent most of the week in my bedroom either crying or just kind of…shut down. I had made plans for the following weekend to go to D.C. with my girlfriend to see a live comedy show, but I was thinking I should cancel them. The show was "Nick Offerman: American Ham". Nick Offerman is one of the leads on Parks & Rec…he plays a bacon loving, tersely worded, mustachioed libertarian named Ron Swanson. When I heard that the plans for Natty's memorial were on Saturday, I realized something: the show was Friday night, I could go up, see the show and still come back to be here for the service. I realized Natty would've killed me if I hadn't gone. So I did.

The show ended up being this wonderful man onstage for 90 minutes giving out humorous life advice. Over the course of the show, Mr. Offerman gave his 10 steps for Prosperous Life. They were:

1. Engage in romantic love, regardless of its dangers 2. Say “please” and “thank you” and be kind to others 3. Carry a handkerchief at all times 4. Eat red meat 5. Get a hobby 6. Go outdoors 7. Don’t look in the mirror, because you are beautiful and mirrors are cruel, lying bastards 8. Maintain a relationship with Jesus Christ (but only if it’s getting you sex) 9. Use intoxicants 10. And paddle your OWN canoe (a metaphor for being DIY in life)

And fuck if these weren't things that Natty would also admire and suggest. That and the amount of time this man spent talking about his own penis and weed made me feel like he was POSSESSED by Natty. It was like he was saying "you have the creativity…you need to do positive things like these…and silly things…to create your own drive." It may seem silly, but all of this just kind of clicked for me.

I felt so amazingly lucky to sit at that show. A show I thought I'd be too sad to enjoy turned out to be an oddly poignant moment for me. I felt connected through this night, in a really weird way, to my friend that was gone. It was kind of, sort of, nearly perfect. And then the show was about over. Nick Offerman called out for some musical accompaniment and they began playing a cover of "5000 Candles in the Wind." All while they are engaged in choruses of "Bye bye, Lil' Sebastian" I start tearing up. Tearing up over this stupid song about a fake, dead mini-horse from a TV sitcom. This is the moment I heard Natty laughing at me in my head. Well played, my friend, well played.

Whats the point to all this rambling? Maybe when you lose someone you love, pretty much anything will make you think about them? Maybe I have a subconscious love of horses and/or horse penises that I wasn't aware of? Maybe I watch too much TV? I'm not even sure. But they were honest thoughts and emotions I had about my buddy and our relationship. And if our relationship taught me anything, it’s that it is good to be honest and open. Even when it means you say stupid things. ESPECIALLY if it means you'll say stupid things. Because stupid things are fucking funny. Like all this shit about horses.

Bye bye, Lil' Sebastian. I'll miss you, bro."

[goodfornuthin]

C'mon....it's an S&M T. Rex...look at his little arms with that whip! #PointsMe Rex the Tyrannosaur - LGBT Dinos!

[goodfornuthin]

Any decade that gave us mullets must be deeply corrupted....

The 80s was a decade marred by a confusing artifice (a day-glow paint job to cover the ugly honesty that was the 70s) and a psuedo-innocence illustrated by an earnest excitement (fueled in equal parts by naiveté and cocaine). So it's nothing short of darkly poetic that the 2 biggest and most beloved and wholesome cultural icons of that decade, Michael Jackson and Bill Cosby, ended up being such deeply flawed and damaged individuals hat they both became damaging predators themselves.

Sad things are sad.

[goodfornuthin]

compartmental child death and hypocrisy

If you are outraged with abortion because "BABY KILLINGS!" but totally okay with innocent lives (including children and babies) being "collateral damage" in flexing our military or economic muscle around the world, or children and babies suffering in poverty that could be easily remedied with better social services because "SOCIALISM BAD!", then your idealistic armor you hide behind to be self-righteous is made of paper-mache. Flimsy and wet and not at all well constructed. If you can compartmentalize and excuse the death and suffering of some, but get rigidly fanatical about being anti-choice, you are a hypocrite. Plain and simple. That hypocrisy means you have no say.

Also, unless you are willing to clothe, feed, raise and otherwise care for all those unwanted pregnancies: you have no say. If you are against education and programs that would help reduce unwanted pregnancies: you have no say. If you are "pro-freedom" for yourself but not when it comes to telling other how to live their lives and use their bodies: you have no say.

I am sick to death of this faux-morality spewing from anti-choice advocates, when they will turn their cheek and spend the rest of their energy trying to ensure the suffering of others in any way they can. If you don't like abortion: don't have one. Otherwise, fuck off.

[goodfornuthin]

Stop watching bad TV

Just saw an ad on NBC for a show called Chicago Fire that I've never heard of (and I am somewhat thankful for that). It loudly announced "It's EVERY PARENTS' worst NIGHTMARE!"

Then it showed a mom on an apartment balcony, holding onto a metal railing that had detached and was falling over the side of the balcony. (Holding on I might add, in the way you would hold a soiled diaper away from your face). The railing was small enough for anyone over the age of 12 to pull back up,but I guess in this TV universe, iron railing is actually made from incredibly heavy tungsten or super dense dark matter. Anyway, inside the cartoonishly heavy piece of railing was stuck the head of the dumbest child ever conceived. Seriously, if this kid actually existed, no one would ever have sex again for fear of creating another one. So the ridiculously heavy railing and small, dumbest-ever child (who must've also weighed 200 lbs somehow) were teetering over the side, with only the mom from a random Clorox ad holding them both from falling.

Will the hunky male model firemen get a ladder to the 2nd floor apartment in time? Or will their sexiness stop them from responding quickly enough? Will the stupid child learn to stop sticking his skull into things? Will the mom book that Quiznos ad she really wants to land? Guh.

Anyway, if your worst nightmare is your stupid, stupid genetic dead-end of a child getting his fat head stuck in porch railing made from a collapsing black hole that is about to tumble down 10 in front of a gaggle of gay pornstars in firemen costumes, then by all means, skip next week's Chicago Fire. It may just be too intense for you...

‪#‎whowatchesthisshit‬?

[goodfornuthin]

Abiding My Time

Spread erratically over the course of roughly 3 years, I was on and off psych meds (anti-depressants, anti-anxiety) to which I had extremely bad reactions. Opposite reactions, actually. The anti-anxiety ones made me anxious at best, and caused panic attacks at worst. The anti-depressants caused me to be more depressed at best, suicidal at worst. As it turns out, I should never have been prescribed these in the first place. And I definitely should not have been on variants of them for 3 years.

They effected my behavior in negative ways, making what would be normal, internal and controllable reactions to the stimuli of the world, into broad, outward reactions. And going through a scary period in my life when I was on my own for the first time in, like, ever...alone in the world and trying to meet new people, as well as suddenly dealing with a hostile economy...these were not good times for those kind of reactions.

I did the best I could under the circumstances, but bad times and a lot of bad people being involved in my life at this time resulted in a lot of bad choices and situations that have adversely affected my life (and still do to this day). My finances and career are totaled, my reputation in tarnished, and I still suffer from the stigma this country foists upon those that have gone through bad times. There are still those who would shit on me at any chance, whether it be gossip or worse. And while that is proof those people are either misinformed or just crappy humans...well, that still sucks at times.

It's hard not to think about the last 6 years and not get sad. It's also hard not to get angry about those times. It's hard not to beat myself up...for my own failings and even for things that I had no say in. It's hard not to be a bit paranoid about people still in my world and new people I encounter (trusting people Is extremely difficult for me nowadays). And it's hard to have expectations for the future that aren't tainted by bad times from years back.

But I do it anyway. I push through the emotional pain, the physical pain and the mounds of stupid I have to deal with just to function at a basic level. And I do that each and everyday. Knowing there will always be detractors and people that'll love to see me hurt and fail. I try to do it with a smile and a joke at every turn. I focus on the (very few) people who truly matter to me and that have been there in some supportive fashion (whether we always get a long or not). I focus on ways to make myself happy and deal with my "new normals," which seem to change rather fluidly. And I focus on being honest with myself and the world around me, even when truth is painful. Because the only way you can be truly self-aware is by bathing in truth.

But do you know where I get most of my strength to deal? From the knowledge that, even with all of the things, people, events and other roadblocks I have run into full-tilt, I have endured. Not without assistance and not without cost, but still, I have endured. I've survived what many people could not. Knowing that I have that ability is cause enough to fight more. To care about the world. To cherish my friends and loved ones. And to continue joking and laughing.

What I'm getting at, I guess, is: The Dude Abides

Now go get me a white russian.

[robdelaney]

[goodfornuthin]

This was originally posted February 26, 2010.

I deal with suicidal, unipolar depression and I take medication daily to treat it. Over the past seven years, I’ve had two episodes that were severe and during which I thought almost exclusively of suicide. I did not eat much and lost weight during...

[goodfornuthin]

No more!

Stop.

STOP.

STAHP.

SSSTTAAHHHHPPPP.

SRSLY.

QUIT. IT.

NO.

UGH!

Just…fuck, man...

I can't even

Die.

[bigafitch]

"American Dream #3" 45 x 32 inches. 2014 Acrylic, blueprint, graphite, ink, poster paint.

[goodfornuthin]

10 Ways to confuse and frustrate strangers in public:

1) Go into a gay bar and loudly complain about what a sausage party it is. 2) Shush people who aren't talking at the library. 3) Go to a public pool, swim to the middle and scream "fire!"  4) Walk into restaurant wearing black clothes. Walk up to any recently seated table and take their drink order. Leave restaurant. 5) Dress in a dog costume. Always. Sometimes as a dog wearing a sailor suit. 6) Walk around the mall yelling for your mom, like a lost child would.  7) Stain your crotch with fake blood. Walk around book store browsing nonchalantly.  8) Go to movie theater, pick the saddest drama there. Laugh uproariously through entire movie. Clap loudly at the end. Shout for an encore. 9) Buy a scratch-off lotto ticket, scratch it. Assuming is it NOT a winner, jump up and down in the store or store parking lot cheering and whooping. Run up to nearest person, hug them, and shove ticket in their hand before you run away. 10) Walk through the park talking on cell phone whilst dragging a dog leash behind you with a flaming/smoking collar on the end.  You're welcome. ~Wolfe

[goodfornuthin]

I love bee puns and I make no APIOLOGY for it! Buy Polly the Bee stuff at redbubble.com/people/wolfehanson!

[goodfornuthin]

The first of three (count 'em: 3!) POLLY the BEE designs, you can buy today on Redbubble. Buy my stuff! I have intestinal parasites to feed!

[goodfornuthin]

Rick Perry, whilst in San Francisco mind you, compared homosexuality to alcoholism. I dunno you guys, it sounds like he's speaking from experience...

Here are a selection of new slogans for this platform Perry is proposing in Texas: "You booze, you cruise (for men), you lose." "Just say no twinking and driving." "Friends don’t let friends drive gay." "Being gay will get you nailed." (tagged for workshopping) "Get high on LIFE, not WEINERS." "What's your anti-dick?" "M.A.D.D. - Men Against Delicious Dicks." "Boo to Glory Holes, Yay for Glory WHOLES...be gay for Christ!" "This is your brain. THIS is your brain on butt-stuff." "2 Smart 2 Start (being lezi)." ...and lastly: "(butt) Crack is Whack."

‪#‎rickperrythinksaboutgaystuffalot‬ ‪#‎mindyourownbusiness‬