Razor Hill Comix

🔞Welcome to Razor Hill Comix, my name is BAG. I make comix, zines, and other filth. 🪰💀 💕 Find me in other places https://razorhillcomix.carrd.co/

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Devoured

Here's a page from a short comic that I have been working on. What do you think? Are you a writer? You looking to team up with someone on a project, hit me up.

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Ribb Licka

I'm gonna be posting some throwbacks here for a bit while I build up my portfolio and get back in action. So, please enjoy as I dump some of my old digital work all over your eyeballs.

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The Gutter Gospel: Entry 11

4/4/2026

I believe this to be entry eleven, but I am not too sure. I'll keep track going forward.

It's about time for another one of these. I am more than aware of the fact that I am shouting into the void, but recently a few have begun to shout back. There is a thickness in the air recently. Something nearly sexual. Perhaps that sounds disgusting, but that’s where I am at currently.

There is a nearly drug-like feeling permeating my mind, body, and spirit (if you would be so inclined to call it that). I'm buzzing. Something is on the horizon and I am choosing to meet it this time. I can't exactly pinpoint what the fuck is going on with me. Perhaps it's a simple chemical imbalance and I am on the cusp of losing my fucking mind. If I'm being absolutely honest, though, it feels really fucking good. Not just positive vibes. My body feels it; physically, I feel like all of my nerve endings are vibrating and my jawline clenches as if I am back on some ecstasy trip.

I haven't touched that stuff in years, so the way I see it, it's three things. One: I am losing my fucking mind. Two: All those drugs I forced into my body as a youth have been stored in my fatty tissue and I am starting to experience chemical flashbacks. And three—the one I am choosing to embrace—is that I have tripped onto something and I am waist-deep in a creative awakening. One that I choose to ride deep into the unknown. Unknown for me. What the fuck does all this mean?

I have no fucking clue. For anyone who has made it this far, give me a sign that you have actually read this. I would like to know who the real ones are. I am not chasing numbers; I am looking for quality. I am searching for The New Taste. One or two have begun to surface. If you are in fact reading this, you know who you are. Just know I appreciate the fuck out of your existence and firmly believe we will conjure some wild shit here soon. Stick with me; I won't back down this time.

I give you my word.

This has been BAG! once again shouting from the top of Razor Hill.

I'll be seeing you real soon.

🪰💋💀

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GUTTER GOSPEL

April 2nd 2026

I've been sitting in this room for an hour now. The coffee that I poured has, minute by minute, grown colder and colder.

Procrastinating on printing this zine that has been finished for two days now. What am I waiting for? Perhaps that old tinge of my childhood fear of being judged threatens to resurface every time I attempt to take a step forward. Not this time however.

I take a sip of my now room temperature coffee. Dust seems to have collected on the surface, I don't mind.

Does the printer intimidate me? Yes, yes I suppose it does. I've been worried about how to print shit on both sides of the paper. A week ago I would have been embarrassed to admit that, but I am on a new path. I choose to embrace myself, imperfections included.

This does not mean that I will stop growing or trying to do the best I can. It only means that I will stop hiding behind a mask of perfectionism. Walking around as if my shit doesn't stink. When in truth we all know that each one of us stinks like shit at least once a day. Right? If not more.

I choose to open my arms to decay, inner and outer. Social, urban, emotional, biological, all forms of decay are mine and yours as well. Things can grow from the rot if you stop endlessly trying to clear it away. Let it become a fertile soil for your soul to plant its seeds. Maybe something will emerge, maybe it won't.

Anyway, until next time.

You know my name, say it however you like.

See you on Razor Hill

🪰💋💀

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Finishing touches on the zine. 👁️

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Finishing touches on the zine. 👁️

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Just a fuckin' taste 🪰💋

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Thank you to everyone who got me to 500 likes!

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Here are some old strips that I was trying to turn into a thing a few years back.

They were meant to be one panel strips called BAG comixtrips.

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Hit the Pavement: Issue 1 is nearly done. Will you read it?

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Is he coming or is he going? 🪱

There is only one way to be certain. Allow the Christ Worm into your heart. The saviour must feed. You are ALL filthy with sin! Be saved today. Join me with him inside you. Rejoice and repent. 🪰💚 #ink #outsiderartist

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I have a new zine coming out this month...stay tuned. 🪰💋💕

Gutter Gospel

Let's do it...

22 Feb, 2026

It's been awhile.

I'm struggling to find words, my mind feels like it's stuck in a viscous fluid and thinking feels difficult. Why am I writing this? Why do I bother calling myself a writer when I barely write. Why do I daydream about being a comic artist but only tip toe around the edges of creating anything? I cant answer any of that for you here and now. I am only going to keep trying until I make this fucking thing work, or I grow too old to bother anymore. Some could argue I am already too old for this. But fuck it, right? I have to be true to myself.

The zines will start again very soon, I wont lay down a date yet as I don't want to promise shit that I can't deliver.

The zine has been retitled Hit the Pavement. I want them to be little glimpses into the world around me, my interests, my fears, the cracks in the concrete outside my front door so to speak.

I am on a search for myself and my voice and for something else that is out there, something I can't define, something that seems to be calling to me. I have called that "The New Taste" in the past and I will continue to do so now.

The New Taste is something that is out there on the edges of the world. It might be a people, it might be a place, it may be all or none of those things. This whole Razor Hill Comix thing is about self discovery, about finding myself through the creative process and hopefully bringing me one step closer to The New Taste.

If none of this makes sense to you, then join the club. It barely makes sense to me.

I have given up on the idea of polishing these blog entries. What you are reading is exactly what is being nailed down on the keys before me. In this world of A.I. and digital perfection I want to stay as raw and real as possible these days. I believe that is an aspect of The New Taste. Where this takes me, I have no fucking idea.

But if this tickles something in the back of your mind, then drop me a line somewhere on one of my socials. Reach out, lets work on something, lets search for this elusive beast together and see where we can ride it.

Anyway, I feel in my heart that this is the start of something. I have been here many times however. SO many false starts, so many dropped promises and self sabotage. Perhaps the chemicals in my brain are giving me false positivity, but I am going to vibe with it for now.

Please, stay tuned. Today I am getting back behind the wheel to start this filthy machine once again.

This has been BAG! or Bay Ander Dose, whoever I am today, and this has been another entry for the Gutter Gospel.

With love, from Razor Hill

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Something old before I make something new. 💋🪰