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Today’s Comic… Monday, Aug 4, 2008 - 1:59am PST | Comic Posted by: Trip

Make sure to check out the comic before reading the rest of this. I’m curious what you think.

Evidently, today's strip may not accurately convey what happened to Brew in the comic. It does appear that he suddenly slipped from the railing and bashed his head on the way down, but that’s not the case. Brew was murdered -- blasted off of the railing, splashing down into the water below the pier. The "BLAM!!" sound effect is from the gun shot. Monique is completely surprised, and in the last pane, is torn between looking over the railing to where Brew fell, and looking toward the direction the shot came from.

Now, having to explain the contents of a comic is really lame. So, the main point of this post is that I'm wondering if anyone has an idea of how to slightly tweak the comic to accurately portray the events. We've got a few quick fixes in mind, but thought it could be cool to get feedback from you first.

By the way, we’ve been wondering if you guys are enjoying the storyline. Do you want more or would you prefer to go back to the random gag strips?

Post comments here

Masks & Mud Flaps pt.5 Monday, Aug 4, 2008 - 2:02am PST | Comic Posted by: Brew

You Gonna Finish That?

For the uninitiated, Mortal Kombat made its debut with their first game in the arcades over a decade and a half ago back in 1992. I remember seeing it for the first time at a local arcade; the photo-realistic characters immediately set it apart from other games but it was the first spray of blood gushing forth from an uppercut when I knew we were in for something special. But it wasn’t until witnessing Sub-Zero tear the head and attached spine from Liu Kang’s lifeless corpse when I understood the world had changed forever!

FINISH HIM!! Haha, yeah bitches! If the original Mortal Kombat was awesome then MKII was phenomenal with more characters, better graphics, more special abilities, more finishing moves, and of course more fatalities. Mortal Kombat 3 saw some more improvements; however MKII still remains the best in the series so far. I didn’t care much for MK4, MK Deadly Alliances was even worse, and MK Deception was the culmination of the franchise’s fall from grace as it sank neck deep into a fetid pit of rotting manatee fecal matter. No, it sank even past the neck, down to the point where it starts to touch your lower lip and you just can’t move your head enough to not keep getting bits of Sea Cow shit in your mouth. The games pretty much sucked after number three.

Recently Ed Boon, along with his massive eyebrows, announced the latest addition to the MK family: “Mortal Kombat vs. DC Universe” – DC as in the comic books, like Superman and whatnot. I believe I’m part of the majority when I say that my initial reaction was little more then, shall we say, restrained enthusiasm. I’ll cut right to the chase: with the numerous interviews with Boon & Co, in addition to all the press from this year’s E3, my anticipation for the game has shifted from “not worth thinking about” all the way to “optimistically intrigued” the more I hear and see of the game.

Did I mention MKvs.DC is rated “Teen”? Yeah I know, it made me roll my eyes too. But it’s hard to say, I mean the gore is still there, fatalities are still there (mostly), and most importantly Ed Boon himself has claimed that the fighting mechanics are geared more towards the old school 2D fighters of old instead of the 3D fighters of new. And let’s face it, I know I’m not alone when I say that Soul Caliber on the Dreamcast was the first and *last* 3D fighter to get its fighting shit together. You can’t argue the point, no one can.

Unfortunately Mortal Kombat has fallen from any active neural pathways in my brain since 1995, when the last *good* game in the franchise – MK3 – was released. With each new game I’ve hoped my long lost adolescent love for the franchise would rekindle; and so far I’ve been repeatedly disappointed. But now it’s looking as though there may be hope with MKvs.DC, it’s coming out later this year so we won’t have to wait very long to find out if this latest game raises them up from the pit, or fully submerges the MK name in it’s pit of shit.

#feminism #webcomics #chauvinism #sexism #hate fuck #feminist #shredded moose

Calcium Conspiracy pt.2 Friday, Jul 18, 2008 - 2:15am PST | Comic Posted by: Brew

Adam and Eve

There are certain fundamental differences between the sexes, besides the obvious of course: penis, vagina, boobies and ball sacks. Other then the physiological, there are deep rooted psychological variations that can lead men and women, boys and girls, to approach and react-to situations differently. Females are usually more likely to express emotion vocally, while males may be more prone to acting out aggression physically. Males, to an extent, generally have a stronger grasp on mathematical and logical thought, while females may excel in linguistics and are more adept at written or verbal comprehension.

And then there’s the difference of dealing with laundry. I’m not sure who else out there has had the level of experience I have had when it comes to observing the Laundritical (new word, I called it first!) divergence between genders; but it’s pretty wide spread from what I’ve seen. From my experience, girls wash their clothes per the labels, separate the colors from whites, and upon completion, fold the clothes in an orderly and tidy manner, eliminating creases and folds when possible.

Again from my experience: most guys throw everything (excluding the *really* good stuff) into a single load and are done with it. Same deal with the dryer, put that fucker on hot till it’s done, the sooner the better. Fold clothes? Why? They’re just going to get unfolded in a few days anyway. This has been a trend I’ve observed since I was in middle school. College life was very much the same way; and post-college hasn’t presented any compelling argument against the theory either.

I can think of ten people that I know right now, guys and girls, of differing cultural backgrounds and vastly different income brackets who all fit very snuggly into those gender over-generalizations when it comes to doing laundry. The chicks like things neat and tidy, and the guys couldn’t care less as long as the clothes smell clean when they need them.

Laundry soap? As long as it’s natural I couldn’t give a shit. Separate the clothes? Unless it’s a brand new black bit of clothing, I couldn’t give a shit. Varying wash cycles? You get the idea.

Travels Faster Wednesday, Jul 16, 2008 - 1:56am PST | Comic Posted by: Brew

Fries With Them Shakes

I and a couple friends went to a local bar a few days back. We walked in, cruised around the bar itself looking for a contiguous trio of seats, and in so doing passed by two smokin’ hot babes; the kind of hotness that boils a guy’s tea kettle. I exchanged some disrobing glances with the two young ladies then proceeded to take a seat with my compadres further down the bar.

Like most groups of guys will do, we discussed the details of the fair ladies; compared notes, opinions, conducted polls and made hypothetical wagers. The second thing that we agreed on regarding the girls – the first being their caliber of fineness – was that girls both looked to be of the extremely high maintenance variety. The sort of girl that, at any given time, must posses a complimentary pair of sunglasses, a watch, handbag, and pair of shoes for each occasion she goes out on. The sort of girl that isn’t only high maintenance, but knows she is; but on top of that, is *proud* that she is. The sort of cun— girl, that will proudly proclaim how much of a bitch she can be.

I fucking hate skanks like that.

I have yet to meet a girl *that* into herself who is worth the emotional headache to get into her pants. Give me a down to earth girl in jeans, sandals and a T-shirt any day when compared to the glitzy cock-trap their upscale counterparts can be. I ain’t saying there’s anything wrong with a girl who likes to get dolled up and show off the clothes mommy, daddy, or their ex-boyfriend has bought them; but I’ve found there’s a point where the hotness-to-attitude ratio gets way out of whack, and it doesn’t take much.

Unfortunately I live in big-city California where it seems the vast majority of girls – whether they’re fine or fugly – think God himself should descend from Heaven, kneel down, and suck their toes clean. I don’t go for girls like that, and I question the sanity of guys that do. I don’t *condemn* these guys, I just question their logic capabilities.

#sexism #chauvinism

Travels Fast Monday, Jul 14, 2008 - 2:03am PST | Comic Posted by: Brew

See Dem Hands

Not all laws are stupid, there are in fact some good ones floating around; we just don’t hear about them too often. Some of the stupid laws that seem to garner all of the lime light are the anti-marijuana laws, laws that imprison people for non-violent crimes, laws that forbid copulation between a man and his sheep, or crossing the street elsewhere then a cross walk; you get the idea.

But one of the laws I can actually agree with here in California, a law that went into effect on July 1st, whereby anyone caught talking on a cell phone, while driving, without a hands-free headset will receive a fine. Now, the fine is very manageable at $20 for the first offense and $50 for each subsequent offence after that. Not a big deal right?

But if you factor in what getting that $20 ticket entails, then you’ve got something with a little more teeth. Don’t forget, it’s not like you magically get a ticket in your mailbox, oh no, no you don’t, not at all, not one little eensy bit. You get flashing lights in your rear view mirror. You get a cop pulling you off to the side of the road. You get a cop asking for your papers, checking you out on the computer, and talking to you about the infraction. You get a cop bringing up any other outstanding legal issues. *Then* you get the ticket. Then you get to pay it.

Twenty bucks or fifty bucks, it’s the whole exchange surrounding the ticket which sounds like a pain in the sphincter to me. Since the first of July, I’ve seen several drivers pulled over into parking lots and the side of roads talking on their phones instead of driving around like the brainless, unaware, aloof, safety-unconscious douche bags they used to be. So it’s actually pretty cool. A decent law was passed in California, it’s amazing!

#furry #Marijuana

Calcium Conspiracy Friday, Jul 11, 2008 - 1:53am PST | Comic Posted by: Brew

What Time Is It?

There’s something that I’ve learned over the years, something that it seems I’m bound to repeat, regardless of how often I preach it, or how often I internalize it. And that’s: the lesson of not staying up late because “it will only take a little longer” to finish whatever project I’m on.

Now, I’m not talking about staying up late to have fun, to party, to socialize, to relax, to watch a movie, to have an orgy with six Brazilian girls lathered up with coconut oil; or pretty much any other form of enjoyment for that matter. What I’m referring to is staying up late for the sake of work. I was reminded of this recently when I dealt with the hack on the Shredded Server; over the course of thirty-plus hours, I managed to pull in only one-and-a-half hours of sleep.

Now, doing that once in a while is fine; throwing a curve ball at your sleep schedule now and then usually doesn’t mess up one’s performance for the next day. But then I remembered the insanity of moving; day after day I put in about 13-16 hour days, one after another. One day I ended up going to sleep just as the sun was coming up! Sure it got the move completed faster; but I felt like ass during that time. Like ass that had been pummeled relentlessly without any lube in the middle of a snow storm on top of a mountain while being gang raped by man-eating polar bears just before being torn to pieces and eaten for a midnight snack on a Thursday!

It’s no good I tell you. I mean, it’s one thing when you’re putting in extra hours because it’s something *you* directly benefit from, when it’s your own project that you *want* to be doing. And no, “not losing a job” doesn’t quite qualify as a “benefit”; so much as it’s an “avoidance of pain”. But regardless of *why* someone stays up late to put in the extra hours; way more often then not, they’re better off calling it quits when it’s nice and early, giving themselves time to relax and doing their own thing at a nice pace. That way, come the next day they’re all juiced up and recuperated instead of burnt out, lethargic, and looking like they were scraped from the bottom of a southern outhouse.

There, I just taught another one of life’s lessons; someone bake me a freakin’ cake.

MediaFire is a simple to use free service for that lets you put all your photos, documents, music, and video in a single place so you can access them anywhere and share them everywhere.

Any contriBrewtions are appreciated! =)

#shredded moose #webcomics #frat boys

News Flash Monday, Jul 7, 2008 - 2:10am PST | Comic Posted by: Brew

Flight of the Bumble Bee

In general I see myself as a humanitarian towards the animal kingdom. Okay, that’s not really true, but I don’t go out of my way to be cruel to them, which is essentially the same thing if you ask me. I lived a rather sheltered life when it came to sadistic interactions will the lesser species of the Earth. My experience was limited to burning ants and other slow, small insects with a magnifying glass.

Although there were the bats that lived near my house in Colorado; dozens of them would be out at night during the summer, flying around the neighborhood. If there was a single useful thing I learned in school as a kid, it was that bats navigate and hunt by way of sonar. My friends and I would go out at night and chuck rocks into the air and watch as the bats give chase and dove after the rocks, misinterpreting them as insects or small animals. Unfortunately the bats would forfeit their pursuit and pull up at the last moment, barely missing a full speed collision with the ground. And that *was* the whole point of the exercise really; to see if we could trick the bats into unknowingly committing suicide. Initially we tried throwing the rocks directly *at* the bats; but we never scored a hit… fucking bats.

Recently I was able to reclaim some of my lost childhood glee by murdering several hives of hornets around my house. Remember I mentioned that I recently moved? Well it came to my attention that hornets had taken up residence in the eaves of my home. Were I a kid focused solely on the moment, I would have set the hives ablaze with a match and a can of WD40; then ran to mom or dad when the fire inevitably spread to the roof. Instead – possessing the gift of foresight that comes from experience – I opted to assail the black and yellow beasts with the garden hose.

It was fun as shit, I felt like a kid! I’d line up the high pressure nozzle and blast away at the hive until the little buggers fell to the ground then smashed them beneath my feet. I’d keep spraying the hive until it ripped from its roots by my barrage of watery death. Sure there were a few instances where I had to drop my weapon and run like hell when some of the winged survivors gave chase; but I survived unscathed. With the annoying hornets gone, now there’s just the matter of the neighbor’s dog…

#animal abuse #animal cruelty #peta

Smells Like Freedom Friday, Jul 4, 2008 - 2:00am PST | Comic Posted by: Brew

Round One, Fight!

If you exclude the unsanctioned, underground Thai fighting deathmatches, I’ve managed to survive to adulthood with very few skirmishes against my fellow man. However, there are two particular instances I recall as a kid that involved unsolicited violence. One was on the way home from second grade; I was cutting through a park only a block away from home when I was jumped by three kids from an opposing grade school; they tried to steal my skateboard.

Unfortunately, in hind sight, instead of bashing their brains in with the deck of my board or brandishing it like a wooden scythe, I fell to the ground in a fetal position, clutching my skateboard as they proceeded to prod and kick me. I survived the encounter with some bruises and a few scrapes; thankfully I was no worse for wear by the next day. Come on, we were second graders, how bad could it have been?

Fast forward six grades into middle school; my record for low occurrences of physical violence was nearly shattered when a kid in Physical Sciences falsely accused me of masturbating during a slide show. It went like this: I was sitting in class during the slide show and – like everyone equipped with a cock and pair of balls – I had to adjust myself. The kid, (I think his name was David?) behind me starts joking, “Were you jerking off in class?” He kept that shit up for over a week and I tried to ignore it. I wasn’t yankin’ my doodle in class; for Christ sake there was a girl sitting right next to me on either side. Yes the girls were hot and at some point in time I’ve probably pounded one out while thinking about both of them… but it sure has hell wasn’t in class during a slide show.

Eventually David’s taunts began to wear away at my patience; so one day after this had been going on for at least a week: I was walking down the hall during lunch; David and one of his friends were walking towards me and David piped up, “Hey look, it’s the masturbator.” We were about to pass and I retorted, “Hey look, it’s the cocksucker.” David spun around, his friend watching, and he was like, “What’d you say?” And I was all like, “you heard what I said.” And he was all like, “say it to my face.” So I was like, “I said you’re a cocksucker.”

David stepped back, “Come on, right now!” So I backed up and dropped my backpack as I thought to myself, “fuck, I don’t want to die! The nuts, just kick him in the nuts and you win.” We were literally right about to lay into one another when we heard, “What’s going on here?!” as one of the school councilors came walking briskly towards us. “Nothing” was our collective response, but she hauled both of us to the Dean’s office anyway.

So David and I were sitting in the waiting room and he turned to me, “you know I was just joking right?!” and I give him one of those “sure you were you lying sack of shit” looks and told him I understood. As soon as the Dean came out, she turned right to me and asked what was going on; David turned dead white because it was crystal clear I had the credibility in the Dean’s eyes. Calmly and coolly I told her – after addressing the Dean by her first name – that we were just goofing off and that the councilor misread us; that everything was cool and we were sorry if we were being disruptive.

I had an interesting history with the administration in middle school; something to do with ditching school for over two months and treating the whole institution like the joke it was. However I got great grades but it was mainly to show the administration I could get any grade I wanted to; and they knew it. All my teachers loved me and most of the administration hated me; but the Dean wasn’t one of them.

David and I got off with less then a warning and I was David’s new best friend for saving his ass from – literally – being expelled. Sometimes a diplomatic solution *does* work.

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Happy Fourth of July! Friday, Jul 4, 2008 - 2:11am PST | Comic Posted by: Brew

I wanted to post something patriotic up here today.

Sleeping Arrangements Wednesday, Jul 2, 2008 - 2:02am PST | Comic Posted by: Brew

Risen From the Ashes

Man of freakin’ man! Who ever decided to hack our server did a damn good job of giving me something to do over the past thirty-odd hours. Hooo-Weee! I imagine a bunch of you are wondering what the hell’s been going on. And for those of you who haven’t been wired into the World Wide Web since Monday morning, then you’re probably wondering what in tarnation I’m talking about.

Okay, so here’s what went down. The Shredded Server (as I’ve now dubbed it) started acting funny and denying connections around Sunday morning. I checked the logs, it didn’t seem like any big deal, I gave the server a kick in the ass from across my broadband connection and all was well.

Then come Monday afternoon and the site took a dive again, but this time I got an automated email from Media Temple informing me that – in short – my server had potentially been hacked, was acting like a cock, and thus was shut down from the host’s side. I talked to the cats at the big MT, found out some details, got the server “turned back on” and began work to purify my poor little baby.

There was a decent amount of stuff to clean up, but by far my favorite bit of data that I found was around half-a-gig worth of space that was taken up by an incomplete episode of CSI: Los Vegas. Yes, someone for some reason was downloading – and probably seeding – a couple episodes of Crime Scene Investigators… a show I’ve never even watched. If it was worth the effort to hack a server and initiate a remote download of it, maybe I should check that series out.

I haven’t done this much concentrated computer-troubleshooting since we were bringing the site online for the very first time. Oh, this reminds me. There has been one casualty in this skirmish and that was the Poll. Basically working the new code into the site is being a pain in the ass, so it’s been pulled from the site until I can get the little bastard to cooperate.

On a more positive note, this exercise in revisiting scripts and code gave me the opportunity to add some functionality to the site. Over on the Archive page, you’ll notice a new section that will allow you guys to view comics based upon which characters appear in them; you can even select multiple characters. I know man, it’s the tits right? Boo-ya!

Well, we’re back up and it’s great to see all of you guys again!

#hack #hacker news

#jesus #second coming #shredded moose #webcomic #edgy #atheism

Jungle Fever Friday, Jun 6, 2008 - 2:02am PST | Comic Posted by: Brew

Spare Some Change?

Grand Theft Auto 4, easily the biggest mind-job in video games that I’ve ever had the privilege of playing. Without a doubt it is the closest thing to an interactive-movie that has ever been made. Credit for that goes to the unparalleled coding, game’s mechanics, art direction, script-writing, and the overall development and directorial guidance of the game.

However one thing that could have utterly ruined this digital masterpiece, despite the excellent craftsmanship behind it, would have been a sub-par delivery from the various voice actors. Niko Bellic is arguably the most three-dimensional character to appear in any video game, to date. If Michael Hollick, who voices Niko, hadn’t delivered such an incredible performance of Niko; I and millions of other gamers wouldn’t care one bit about the character, or the story.

But despite GTA4’s financial success of bringing in over $600 million in the short time since its release; Hollick has-and-will-only-ever-see a comparatively minute amount of that money, receiving a base salary of 100-Gs for the fifteen months he devoted to his role. I heard about this dynamic before during a program on Nation Public Radio; basically when it comes to digital entertainment, such as video games or series/shows/programs that are broadcast over the internet, there’s no provision for paying residuals to the actors. Or in the case of video games: voice actors, motion-capture actors, the programmers, coders, etc, who all contribute to the game’s success.

They receive a flat fee, and that’s all; whether the game brings in $600 million, or only six hundred copies. It has something to do with the Screen Actors’ Guild and the shitty agreement they have with the “electronic” entertainment industries. TV show, radio show, music, TV/radio advertisement, all of them pay residuals; but not video games.

On the surface it sounds like a clear cut closed case: just pay the freakin’ residuals to everyone! But I think there’s more to it then that, such as what percentage goes to voice actors, versus the coders, versus the artists, versus the lead director, and so on. However I think it goes without saying that these chaps all deserve far more then a base daily fee ($730/day in Hollick’s case), especially when the end product – like GTA4 – turns out to be such a huge financial success.

With GTA4 already out, I think it would be great if the voice actors and everyone went on strike until something much more reasonable was negotiated. Grand Theft Auto 4 will last me months before I even consider loading something else into my 360’s disk drive. Whatever – if-ever – a new contract is negotiated, I sincerely hope it’s retroactive, at least to a degree; Michael Hollick and the cast of GTA4 undoubtedly deserves more for what they’ve given us.

he Board Is Set Wednesday, Jun 4, 2008 - 1:55am PST | Comic Posted by: Brew

Duurrrh….

The other day I was surfing through cyber space looking for anything interesting, and I wandered past a little known site called “MSN”. You’ve probably heard of it; although if you haven’t, you’re not missing anything. Anyway, I was caught by one of their headlines as it scrolled across the page; the graphic displayed the following:

In case you’re curious, the answer to the question is, “Yes”. Today’s generation of modern world children have access to limitless resources that were barely even imaged only ten years ago. Yet kids are turning out dumber, more now then ever before in the history of history; that’s a fact supported by God himself. Something apparently went wrong with the Generation Y and late Generation X crowd. Maybe we can blame everything on the introduction of the cell phone, the iPod, or other such gadgets “kids” these days seem to have surgically attached to their bodies.

Kids don’t know how good they’ve got it. For Christ sake, when *I* was growing up, to turn in a successful book report in school I actually had to read the synopsis on the back of the book and the last chapter if I wanted to fabricate anything half-way believable. Now all kids gotta do is Google the damn title or look it up in Wikipedia; as long as they have a thesaurus handy, they can’t lose.

What about the toys that kids play with these days, like Legos? Back when I was a kid you had to use your imagination to build anything. Now everything comes in pre-designed sets with custom pieces; as long as any idiot can follow directions, they can build what’s on the box. I bet that’s what it’s all about too… “following directions”. Even the corporate powers behind Lego are pushing kids toward conformity by dumbing down the creativity required to build with their blocks.

And what about the finances of the future for the children? Well, with the current US government spending money we don’t have on military programs we don’t need and on wars we don’t want; the future financial foundation of America seems a bit unstable.

But that’s okay; times change, cultures evolve, political powers wane. The kids of today may not understand the ramifications of talking on a cellphone while crossing the street as they’re unaware of the Escalade rolling through the crosswalk while the driver drinks his latte as he’s sending a text message on his SmartPhone, oblivious to the 1-in-3 obese children he’s about to run over…. I guess there should have been a counter-point to that run-on sentence, like “the kids of today have this, but at least they have that”; but what’s the point? I’ve thought kids were in a bad way since I was one; and I don’t see the intellectual trends of society changing anytime soon.

#msn #wikipedia #ipod #shredded moose

Detour pt.2 Monday, Jun 2, 2008 - 2:00am PST | Comic Posted by: Brew

Say What?

You guys see this…?

You believe that crap? It’s freakin’ ridiculous how poor Sue Simmons was forced at gun point to release an apology because she said “fuck” on the air. Now, if I have my penalties and fines correct, the FCC just charged NBC around $325,000 for that single slip of the tongue. “We need to acknowledge an unfortunate mistake…that fell out my ass!” Go hang around any grade-school playground in America and hear for yourself just how many “mistakes” happen every day. The only thing that makes sense for the News to “apologize” about is that someone screwed up the mic feed and the audio bled over between their precious segments.

Listen, I know yearning for common sense in the public sector is moot. That censors, regulators, legislators, and manipulators enjoy glossing over our reality by pretending that if you don’t see or hear something, then it will go away and everything will be filled with fairytale goodness.

If you ask me, when it comes to mobilizing in the face of a national emergency; like the way the FCC mobilizes in response to profanity and “indecency”. Organizations like FEMA should just pay attention to how the FCC handles emergencies and people will forget about days of Katrina. Kinda like how FEMA forgot about New Orleans.

Anyway, kids don’t cuss because when you do, it makes Baby Jesus Cry.

#fcc #fema #shredded moose #furry #squirrel

Detour Friday, May 30, 2008 - 1:51am PST | Comic Posted by: Brew

Oh, the Humanity!

This is my second post since I’ve rearranged my life with this accursed moving process. Already I don’t feel like writing anything beyond this current sentence. But look at that, now I’ve gone and started a third sentence; odds are pretty good I won’t be finished here. See, I’m still writing… and you’re still reading; let’s find out if this continues….

It does! Man, I miss the days when I fully embraced the bachelor lifestyle; everything I owned fit in my car with passenger room to spare. Then somewhere along the way, I got an idea in my head that it made sense to purchase furniture. I guess I had forgotten that if you own furniture, you’re going to have to move the furniture when it’s time for a change of residence.

I’ve joked with my friends before but, honestly, throwing everything in the front yard, setting fire to it, and driving away seems like a more attractive option with every day I pack things, load them onto a truck, and transport them to their new destination. For instance, I don’t know whose idea it was to buy a five hundred pound wooden desk. I’m even less sure of whose idea it was to keep it. It sure as hell wasn’t mine because I remember how much I hated moving it the *last* time I moved to a new place. It must have been Russians’ idea….

Thank god I don’t have to move it up or down any stairs. Maybe I should sell off all my furniture; from now on I’ll only purchase things in size and quantity that can fit in my car. I’ll go back to the way things *used* to be.

God damn am I freakin’ tired; today makes the fifth day in a row I’ve devoted over sixteen hours to this moving / house-fixing thing. That’s two houses to fix up remember? The new one and the old one… man, I haven’t played any video games in like four whole days, and I’m starting to feel deficient. Maybe I’ll squeeze in some time with GTA4 tonight, relax a little before going to bed and continuing this whole thing again in the morning.

#GTA V #moving #moving and relocating #shredded moose

Fetish Out of Nihilism Wednesday, May 28, 2008 - 2:06am PST | Comic Posted by: Brew

Detective Story, Act 3

The rain soaked street was the only evidence of the monstrous storm that once ravaged the city of Chicago. It had been raining for six days and six nights, for six afternoons, six mornings and six evenings. A break in the torrential downpour came when the city of Chicago needed it most; when the people needed it most. The fierce volley of rain drops had laid siege upon the landscape as though it were a dying pack mule set ablaze on a burning pyre of flaming flammable combustibles. But on this day, this Thurs-day, the rain abated and the rivers small rivers of rain washed the refuse and litter down the storm drains; as if it were washing away the cares of the city.

But Franky D wasn’t in Chicago today, so he didn’t care. He had been idly flicking through the five-hundred and thirteen channels of satellite television from within his hotel room that overlooked the sunny Santa Monica Pier. More then six days and six nights ago, Franky D had traveled a long hard road to the West Coast on assignment for a client; a missing persons case. Franky D had packed and bagged the case before he was able to say, “Silicon implants with bleach blonde hair and melanoma carcinoma nipples.” And that was a phrase he’d numerous times since arriving in the southern region of the Golden State.

The sun was basking its rays across the Southern California skyline as sure as the letter “R” follows “S” when you recite the alphabet backwards. Unless of course you’re talking about the Japanese alphabet; an alphabet that has no “Rs” to speak of. And that was Franky D’s newest case. He’d been visited by Sailor Mercury of the Sailor Scoots and was hired to discover why there were no Rs in the language from the Land of the Rising Sun. Franky D wasn’t sure where to start with this case, but that’s where all his assignments began, with a question. Only Franky D could ask this question, and there was only one man capable of answering the question that Franky D sought to ask; his old war buddy Alex Trebek.

Franky D dialed Trebek’s digits on his cell phone;, the line on the other end began to ring. It rang six times, six like the number of days and nights the Thunder Gods had pelted the mysterious city of Chicago with their tempest. Six rings like the six eggs that come in a carton of half-a-dozen eggs. Six rings like the –

“Hello, you’ve reached the voicemail of Alex Trebek, I’m not available because I’m out having my butt cheeks polished and waxed by Brazilian hookers. Leave a message and I’ll holla back atchya.” Franky D was about to leave his message when he heard a knock at his hotel room door. Not the kind of knock you hear at most hotels when the maid wakes you up at 9:00am to ask if you need new towels; but the kind of knock that heralds urgency and desperation; or possibly danger. The kind of danger that might be someone’s middle name; the kind of danger Franky D lives for.

The veteran detective made his way to the door, one hand clasping the grip of his trusty pistol, his other hand grabbing hold of the metal door knob, his other hand… wait; sorry he only had two hands. In a single fluid movement, Franky D swung the door open and pressed the cold steel barrel of his sidearm to the forehead of the uninvited guest. Eyes ablaze with terror and uncertainty of whether he would draw his next breath, Prime Minister Yasuo Fukuda of Japan, dropped to his knees before Detective Franky D. In a thick Japanese accent he pled…

“Ish awl my fawult Fwanky Dee, I shtowe dee wetter Awr fwum dee Japoneeze awfabet. Puhwees, hunt me no wonger Westurn Devuhl! Wu may hahf dee wetter bahk, and wiff it, I weel give wu seberahl Sonee Bwue Way deesks, ahnd manwee uneeformed school gurls to wuse as househowld fune-ature. Puhwees, gib me murshy!”

Franky D stared the Prime Minister in the eyes for several moments, his calculating gaze boring a whole into the Yasuo Fukuda’s soul. The detective grabbed the Prime Minister of Japan by his Made in China collared shirt, and flung the man across the room! Toppling over the queen sized bed he landed in the far corner of the room, dazed and confused having struck his head on the “Hello Kitty” hotel nightstand.

“Straighten my bed and get me some clean towels before I get back, Prime Minister…. And make me a goddamn egg salad sandwich.” And with that, Franky D grabbed the missing letter “R” from the floor where the Prime Minister had dropped it; and began his journey across the Pacific Ocean, towards the island of Japan. Franky D had a letter to return….

#goth #emo #cutting #across the river #shredded moose #edgy

2007-05-25

#shredded moose #webcomic #cheating

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