"You're probably wondering why you're here...
"You're here because you done fucked up too many times! You think you're hot shit in a champagne glass, but you're really cold diarrhea in a Dixie cup! And if you keep up like you've been doing, this is where you're headed.
"Oh that's funny to you, right? 'cause you're so fuckin' bad? I know your type. You think I'll just get me a costume, rip off the neighborhood kids. Next thing you know, you've got a jet shaped like a skull with lasers on the front.
"What?! Ya think this is gay, hah? Is that what you fuckin' said you scrawny piece of shit? Oh this isn't gay. But King Gorilla over there is! And I bet he just can't wait to snap off a piece of your dick in his ass!
"You! Get up! I said get the fuck up!! What's your name?
"Your name is bitch! And I own you. You're property! And when I'm tired of having sex with every hole god drilled in your slender frame -- King Gorilla! You got a cigarette?
"There. I just sold you for a cigarette. And I don't smoke!
"Holy shit! You're Dean fucking Venture! King, I gotta buy my bitch back. H-here's your cigarette..."
"Fuck you, gimme a dollar."
- Jackson Publick III & Doc Hammer, "Return to Spider-Skull Island"

"The Orange County Liberation Front"
I watch The OC now. I'm not ashamed to admit it. I'm not even ashamed to admit that I wish I'd watched it earlier so I could have used to it try and score with one of the high school chicks I worked with at The Ocho.

(I'm not ashamed, but I really should be...)

I wish I could say that I was watchin' the show because Jeffries was making me, but that'd be a lie. I also wish I could say I was doing it just for the comic book references or because Jeffries was making me, but I can't. It certainly started that way. But somewhere along the way, something happened to me.

Imagine Wolverine moved in with Peter Parker and the two of them were in high school and you have some strange conception of how I approach The OC.

Which, of course, isn't to say that a buddy book with teenage Logan and Spidey makes for A-list storytelling, but hey. The heart wants what it wants. Plus, if you think about it too much, Sandy's almost like Matt Murdock.

Unfortunately, I think The OC may destroy my friendship with Kate. She let me borrow her Season One DVD, which means I can keep it forever as long as I think doing so is worth never seeing her again, which is crazy, right?

I'm thinking about it...

[The OC update: Upon concluding this entry, I then went off to watch Episode 2.14, "The Rainy Day Women" in which Seth (the Peter Parker of my little analogy) spent half the episode running around in the rain wearing a Spider-Man mask. It was at this point that I realized that I officially get Seth ten times more than I ever got Dawson... You know, after I laughed really hard and peed a little.]

"The Big Reward They Promised was Nothing but an Old Licked-up Jolly Rancher"
For quite some time, I was convinced that a girlfriend would make me happy. Well, several years spent watching the sheer havoc that romantic relationships have actually brought into the lives of my friends have taught me that happiness surely lies somewhere else...

But where, I ask you?

Church? Certainly not. The concept of God can no more bring joy to the heart of this poor recovering Catholic than a tasty cherry coke and whiskey can ease the twelfth step on some poor former alcoholic! (I gave up drinking for Lent. Can you tell it's fucking with me?)

For a long while, I thought comics were the answer, but my quest to become a comic book writer is already chipping away at my appreciation for the medium. Once you've seen that the Wizard of Oz is just some power-mad asshole behind a curtain, that weekly Wednesday wanderin' down the yellow brick road ain't so merry anymore. (I finished Wicked. Can you tell it's fucking with me?)

And there's this part of me that thinks that gainful and purposeful employment might brighten my days, but I'd hate to end up one of those poor schmoes whose entire life becomes work -- because keep in mind, I'm not going to have a family of my own. Besides, I'm really lazy. (I finally showed up for a second day at Target today. Can you tell it's fucking with me?)

After some meditation on the matter, I think I've finally realized the answer to life's essential dilemma: You just gotta buy stuff! Now, I know what you're thinking... You're thinking that blanket materialism won't bring you happiness, and you're right. A random pile of junk won't make you feel fulfilled... Unless you've got the right pile of junk. It's all about figuring out what stuff to buy. And, so, after careful deliberation, I present to you the things that I need to acquire in order to solve all my problems forever:

a big red blanket
Wonderfalls on DVD
Spider-Man 2 Collector's Edition DVD
a replacement pair of purple chucks
a pair of green chucks
a pair of black chucks
at least two more pairs of pants
a superman tee-shirt
a new winter coat
a replacement flint for my zippo
a bottle of jack and a 24 pack of cherry coke
a new pair of glasses (black plastic frames)
a mego Spider-Man doll
a wrist watch
a playstation 2 with GTA: San Andreas and Spider-Man 2: The Game
Batman the Animated Series Vol. 1 & 2 on DVD
Christopher Priest's complete run on Steel
a print of Krikko's "Super Big Apple"
the Queen & Country scriptbook
I Heart Huckabees
a pair of running shows
track pants
a pair of overalls
a cool new hat -- maybe one of those brown Mizzou hats
a bag of double stuft oreos
a blue plaid/checked shirt
a ten-inch Martin Manhunter action figure
a Nokia phone with a spider-man cover
a postal uniform shirt
The Tick Complete Series DVD
a replacement for my "Rockin' the Suburbs" CD
a Mets jersey
a black Spider-Man mini statue
fancy pajamas, a decent bathrobe, and new goofy slippers
a lazyboy
a purple shirt
a Spider-Man costume

I tell you. All I need are these 37 things, then I'll be completely satisfied. I mean, I'd have to be, right?

Right?

"Giant Boy Detective and the Mysterious Lighthouse"
Besides giving me her DVDs, Kate also gave me a lead on a TV writing gig with Nickelodeon (read "a real longshot").

I gotta write an eleven to thrity minute script for a current cartoon. Any suggestions?

"Supervillains are a Specialty of Mine"
Hey, check this out.

NEXT:
The Test!