Well, It's been an odd couple of days.
I keep forgetting how the heat affects me until I'm in the thick of it.
It's taking me, like, an hour and a half to get off the couch after waking.
It's so HOT
(How hot is it?)
It's so hot that I am sleeping directly under a fan and I am not waking up with a cold or a nosebleed.
-No, that wasn't a joke, that's FACT, and it's kinda scary since summer's still in it's larval stage.-
Right around my birthday, folks are gonna be spontaneously combusting.

Well, on the brighter side, I made peace with someone after the blow-up we had well over a year ago. This is a good thing.

Now, I am gonna go work on my comic s'more.

BACON-FLAVORED VODKA!!!

==that is all==

Yesterday started out great... and ENDED great!
Who knew?

So, first thing in the morning after leaving work, I went to Freddy's and bought Futurama: The Beast with a Billion Backs. It's funny, but Bender's Big Score was funnier.
I cycled through it like 4 times, but, as it was that time of the morning, I kept falling asleep while watching it.
It made for some interesting dreams, though.

After that, I went to the Black Drop for my usual glut of coffee, comics and drawing.
I made 10dollargrapple an icon for his LJ from a pic I took WAAAAY back in November.

Got s'more work done on my comic, then, ran into psychopomp_girl and hyllian outside when the shop closed. Saw Dorothy (always a treat).
Went home, took a wonderfully hot shower, changed into my new shirt and my old pants (my favorite pair) and toddled down to the Royal to meet the aforementioned friends for drinks and karaoke.
Yes, I sang.
It was my third time. They say that's the charm, but I dunno.
My song was off track. The music was about 13 seconds ahead of the words.
Mind you, I know the words, but, trying to sing with the music, but still read the words just confused my brain. I was rather inebriated as well.
Still, I had a ball.

(For reference:
The songs I've sung @ karaoke, thus far::
1. Sledgehammer - Peter Gabriel
2. Last Kiss - The Pearl Jam version
3. The Saga Begins - Weird Al (last night)

Mandi and Scott went their seperate way, and I made my way over to Casa Que Pasa for more drinking and comraderie. I got both, and I even met another guy named Johann. Weirdly enough, he too is from New York! Weirder still, he says his next door neighbor is named Johann.
Met a very nice, very flirtatious and *ahem*buxom young lady named Denise, heard numerous off-color stories about the lives of my co-workers and had a DELICIOUS vodka drink that I can't rightly remember the name or ingredients of.

I told the Reader's Digest version of my life story for the umpteen-thousandth time, and when we left there, I went to the Shoe to get a Chicken Burger.
For once, it wasn't crowded or surrounded by skeezy vagrants. The waitress was cute and flirty, and the fries were the saltiest things EVER, which, oddly was JUST what I needed.
I actually remember GETTING home, much less how, for once, and I watched Futurama all the way through, and even thought up a cool-but-wrong twist for my comic that I remembered to WRITE DOWN before losing consciousness.
Since I ate before sleepiong, I have no trace of a hangover (and considering how much I HAD...)
There's no random, misspelled and embarrassing post on my LJ today, and I've just come back to the Black Drop with a gihugic apple fritter from Rocket Donuts and 45 bucks worth of new comics.
Tonight, i go to see the Hulk before hopping back on the social cycle for another ride.
Go me!

Another comedy miracle worker has fallen.
RIP George Carlin.

Yesterday was a good day.
Sure, I worked long and hard on Sunday Night, and didn't go to sleep til 1 in the afternoon on Monday, but that was OK.

On Sunday Night, i had a gaggle (a gaggle=about 14 or so) kids come into "The Sev" at 2:14 am for beer.
I have begun asking late-comers where they are coming from, for purely sociological reasons.
It seems that most of them are generally coming from the bar. In other words, it's a matter of:
They get booted from the bar at closing, which, in 'Bar Time' is actually about 1:45 am, they stand around smoking and talking and bullshitting around for 15 or 20 minutes and then suddenly realize "HEY! I can still stand upright without assistance!! I must not be DRUNK ENOUGH!! Quickly, Robin! To the DorkMobile! We must get to Seven Eleven quickly!!"
So they hot-foot it uptown, through cop-infested Lakeway Boulevard, Amost ALWAYS avoiding arrest for what I can only assume is both speeding and DUI, because in a cruel twist of divine snark, God favors drunken fratboy assholes and tramped-up hoochie bar trash... only to rip ass into my store at 2:05, or 2:11 am, and are utterly AMAZED that beer is closed. They argue, they beg, they wheedle, they tell me what time THEIR watch says... They tell me that their cellphone is attuned to "Universal Time", fully expecting me to relent.
They promise me cash, some have promised me "other things" in the past, but no dice.
20 bucks and a BJ isn't gonna pay my rent and bills.
(Which reminds me, my power bill came today... sorry. Off-topic.)
This particular gaggle was from Vancouver, leading to the theory that our beer must be cheaper, as I have heard time and again that Canadian beer is stronger, and thus "better".
('cause nothin' sez lovin'like alcohol-induced braincell genocide!)
I still don't know why they crossed the border at that time of night for beer. Don't they have beer in Vancouver? Parties? I find it funny that all I hear from folks around here is "This place sucks! Let's party in CANADA!! From the visiting Canadians, I hear the opposite.
The grass is always greener and filled with more booze, I guess.
Even though these people are a nuissance (sp?), and I would love nothing more than to see them all dropped off a 12 story building into a vat of boiling-hot Budweiser, the funny thing is...
I ENJOY DENYING THEM! It actually does give me a sick thrill sometime to deny them. From the sluttyest co-ed Ghetto Barbie, to the smuggest white-hat loser who thinks he's a "G" because he can recite all the words to Shawty Lo's last album.... The looks on their faces when I tell them that there's no way I can assist them in getting more shit-faced and brain-dead than they already are practically gives me wood!
Maybe I really am as I evil as I, deep down, believe myself to be. Or, maybe, seeing humanity in it's most depressingly low-born and negative light night after night, day after day has finally taken it's toll on an already broken heart. Who knows?
AND WHO CARES?? I still had a good time, and it didn't stop there!
I got off work, went home, changed clothes and went straight to the Black Drop.
"I love the smell of caffeine in the morning! It smells like Sleep-Dep!!"
I was a bit loopy and vibratey by 10 am or so, but it was good fro creativity. I am now up to page 93 of the comic I am writing. A personal best for me in the last few years.
It's mostly a scribble thing. Not long ago, i hit a BIG dry spell. I was depressed because I couldn't draw, and I couldn't draw because I was depressed. I was in the middle of a horrible, vicious circle of SHIT. So, oneday, I just spat out an idea - Me, as I was when I was younger, weird and close to being happy, with my favorite superpower (We all know what that is) in a normal world without spandex. I ran with it.
I didn't make big plans. I didn't make it for the express purpose of posting it on the internet, I didn't make it for group review or any of the other crap that seems to sap my will to live like Kal-El with a kryptonite dildo... just me, scribbling for the sheer joy of it. Now, I am on page 94.
In short, I'm feeling much better now.
Sleep Dep creativity is my friend. I was even struck by inspiration and quickly scratched out a pen sketch of The Last Supper starring the Legion of Doom. THAT one I fully intend to re-do and post online somewhere. It's a cool idea.
After that, I actually went home and got some sleep. Maybe a bit TOO much. i woke up at 8:45 pm.
Went to hang out with duffy61, crazitalk and his girlfriend, and we watched Dr. Who, as is customary.
I loaned duffy61 2 eps of TMNT that featured Usagi Yojimbo, because he's a big fan of the ronin rabbit. psychopomp_girl didn't show, but I just heard from hyllian about an hour ago that she's sick.
While there, I got a message from her that my old job had my last paycheck and tips, so i hustled over there, got the money, had 3 strong drinks and, decided to hop over to karaoke at Rumours.
I had even more drinks. There was bad singing, and I think some of it was my fault.
Then they closed and I was hungry and in need of something to soak up the booze. I went to the Russian dumpling place. The guy behind the counter was jovial enough... we talked about The Hulk and Iron Man, but he shorted me on my change. I gave him 10 bucks for a 6 buck order of dumplings. I asked for my change, and he said he gave it back to me, but I wasn't THAT drunk. I let him keep it. (I was gonna give him 3 outta the 4 dollars as a tip anyway.
I'm not really mad about it, but part of me hates it when people underestimate my intelligence. Working nights and dealing with drunks, I can UNDERSTAND, but still...
After that, I still wasn't ready to go home, and I figured since I still had cash in my pockets, I should get more food, so I went to The 'Shoe. (Which I HATE, by the way, but I always seem to wind up there when I've been drinking.
I had a BBQ chicken burger and some cheesefries and a Sprite.
Upon leaving, i was accosted by a drunken young woman with flame-decorated shoes that were quite kick-ass.
She asked me if I had any Grey Poupon and gave me a hug, then i went on my way.
It was cold and raining a bit, but i didn't care. It sobered me up a little.
I made my way home, and fell asleep on the couch watching Night Court on DVD.
I woke up this moring a bit after 10 am.
I had some interesting dreams that I only vaguely remember, but they weren't nightmares, and that's something.
I went out, and put a dent in my comic box. I'm reading Salvation Run #7 as I type this.
I read Giant Size Astonishing X-Men earlier.
Joss Whedon is a master of the WTF Ending. I either want to bear his children or slap him around until my wrist breaks, I'm not sure which.
Now, i sit, with coffee, comics, webcomics, and I still have a bit of cash in my pocket.
I was gonna go see Hulk today, but i think I'll wait til Thursday.
Other than that, It's bout 3 pm, and i still have a whole day ahead of me.
I think I'm gonna check out DeviantArt, then go get some groceries and rent a couple of movies, and just relax at home drawing comics.

...all in all, one of my better days.

I fucking ADORE the crew of the Black Drop.

I don't know what the hell is wrong with me.

R.I.P.
Bo Diddley

Sydney Pollack,
Harvey Korman, F'Godssakes
and, from what I've heard, Dick Martin earlier this week.

More talent and (FUNNY) comedy leaves this planet of ours.
Sad, really.

It never ceases to amaze me--
Living here in Hipster Country... I often sit in the coffee shop and eavesdrop on the conversations around me.
Okay, i have no CHOICE, as I left my music and headphones at home and Shutting The Fuck Up is a foreign concept in this area, it seems.
Things inevitably revolve around politics, but that's rather incidental to my point.
My point is that, it seems white people are enamored of talking about ethnic folks as though they were animals.
I don't mean necessarily in a derrogatory way, but more in the way Jane Goodall and/or Steve Irwin talk about animals.
Like in that "They're so fascinating because they're so similar, yet they're a totally different species than US" sorta way.
Their tone of sheer WONDER when they note that we are the same as them in some small TOTALLY HUMAN way is almost frightening. As though they believe, at best, we are some alien race and we will impart cosmic knowledge if they break us down and study us.
And, conversely, at worst it's almost as if they truly believe we are some alternate species, or complex toy or device sent to them by God for their perpetual amusement.
I'm not happy with either option.

I do hope the irony of the above is not lost on you.

First the computer.
Get that fixed, and now my scanner REFUSES to scan.

"The whole fuckin' world's against us, dude, I swear to God!"
-Jay (and Silent Bob nods in agreement)

Weird week.
So, those of you who read this LJ, (all 4 of you) know what happened with my computer.
I dropped in on my last night at Casa.
It worked perfectly for 4 days, then, for some bone-brained reason, I decided to turn it off.
It FROZE when I tried to turn it back on.
I couldn't get it to work.
In typical Johann fashion, I freaked, then got all depressed.
(I think I could probably stare Ragnarok in the jewels (Ragnarok being so much taller than me) and not blink, but the tiniest thing sets me off.
I slept for 2 days. Or, rather, i worked all night at 7-11, then, coming home at about 7:15 am, I slept until 10 pm, just in time to go back. I did this on purpose on Thursday, and by way of exhaustion on Friday.
Today, I decided to bloody well snap the fuck out of it. I went to see Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull.
On the way there, I saw some poor lady take a nosedive in the middle of a busy crosswalk. face first! Smack! ass in the air, and sundress flipped up to flash panties to the world. On the way back I saw a guy who could only be described as Young Einstein in a wife-beater.
Not Yahoo Serious, mind you... (Who else remembers THAT guy?) but a young version of real-life Einstein. Brown, curly shock of hair, a brush moustache, but wearing a white wife-beater and baggy jeans.
I grooved to music, and walked all over Bellingham trying to avoid the Ski-To-Sea parade, wearing an all-black outfit and a hoodie. i LOVED the stares I got.
Then, later, here at the Black Drop, I've had coffee, and Mandrew worked his mojo and I have my computer back!

I AM NEVER TURNING THIS THING OFF AGAIN!!!

I have to go to work tonight for the 6th night in a row, but, if all goes well, my paycheck should be hefty enough to pay my rent and still have cash left over (FOR ONCE).

I wonder what tomorrow will bring.

Well, last night was a good night.
Surprisingly mellow for a Saturday Night at Casa Que Pasa.
I got really, REALLY drunk, and, as usual, I can't remember how i got home.
I DO remember, however, that I didn't clock OUT.
I dropped my computer (still works, obviously.)
My coworkers gave me Pop-tarts, Hershey's kisses, Keebler cookies, a new sketchbook, 2 good pens and a $40.00 gift certificate to Cosmic Comics.
The job may have sucked, but the people are very cool sometimes.
I start at 7-11 (again) on Monday night.
I may even be able to hang out at duffy61 's place for a bit before work.
All in all, a good weekend so far.

Now, I am gonna try and find some cheap black pants for the new job. Maybe have some ice cream or something.

ia am tipsy
and this is my last ni9te3 at casa.
My beloved coworkershave gotten me a drawing pasd and same cool pens!
I love these guys.
things changebut cool people arwe cool people and i love em all
showerd my comic and stuff a nd all is well
thyis is my thrid vodka drink, plus 2 shots and i am feeling no pain
more later

Am I a bad person because I am taking the UTMOST pleasure in hearing that someone who hurt me is going through a rough patch?
Especially since I bloody-well predicted it would happpen?

So, duffy61 got me the COMPLETE Real Ghostbusters down at Con over the weekend.
27 disks, 140 episodes.
I've watched them at home, I've listened to them at work, and now I'm gonna go home and fall asleep watching MORE.
I forgot how in love with this show i was. But, whaddaya expect? It's spun off from my favorite movie of all time!
I find myself remembering bits of dialogue, vocal inflections
(Ray: "Reversed the polarity of the neutron flow...")
and watching them in order, I even have eps popping into my head just before they play...
I'm a happy geek.

Ah well, no convention for me this year...
("Is THAT where all our nerds are?", Katie asks me yesterday.)

But, hey. 3 straight days off is 3 straight days off, so I'm not complaining TOO much.
I got some drawing done. Did some fanarts and participated in some DeviantArt jams.
I was referred to aa the "Grand Lord of SuperHero Creativeness", so my ego's boosted to acceptable levels.

Now that I am getting used to the coloring programs I have to use, things are getting a bit better.

Weird dreams lately.
Dreams about marrying people, making cakes out of books, and, of course... JOBCORPS.
Bad, BAD dreams. But, fun nonetheless due to the sheer absurdity of them.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I am getting better. I seem to be becoming my old self again. The old me that I halfway liked. The me that I used to be before I started moving West.
The 19 year old me that was happier, healthier, had a zest for life, an appetite for food that was due to likeing FOOD, not as a comfort mechanism. The me that was totally off his rocker, but in a good way.
No one from around here knew me then, but I think they would have liked "Gonzo". I don't like to admit it, but I did. I miss him.
You don't know what you've got, etc. etc...

Well, now I suddenly have a craving for calzones, canolis, The music of the New York Dolls and bossy girl with a ping pong paddle and a wicked gleam in her eye.

...unfortunately, I'm at the library.

I haven't been posting as I should.
Got a new computer, and I still hardly post at all.

I wanna tell all about The Betty Show a couple weeks ago.
I wanna lament about the convention.
I wanna go into detail about me putting in my 2 weeks and getting my OTHER old job back more or less.
I really should write about my not sleeping, my 4 am sessions of self-psychoanalysis, and I KNOW I should start writing down some of the daft rants about everything that streaks through my mind in the odd hours, like politics, religion, racism, whether or not an ex-friend is stupid, whether or not an ex-girlfriend is going to be a fit mother, or whether she has birthed the bastard demon beast with her weedhead-redhead-redneck so-called "stalker" boyfriend....
I wish I could express in words how horribly LOW my self-confidence gets now that Spring has wrought 2 never-ending FOUNTAINS of fucking tears from my eyes that haven't actually stopped in over TWO GODDAMNED MONTHS, yet everyone says that the bees are disappearing. THEN WHERE THE FUCK IS ALL THIS POLLEN COMING FROM?????????????
I could write about how, despite the salt deposits on my cheeks, many lovely ladies have been flirting with me lately.
(No, I'm not oblivious, just unsure of myself.)
I could write about birthdays, zombies, tooth decay, how I ACHE as a cartoonist without PhotoShop, getting back into the swing of things, cartoon-wise, how I miss TV, even though there's never anything on, why I have this self-destructive attraction to broken women and untrustworthy men, Why I am losing my love of comic books, but still think they're the good enough to spend money on week after week, apple fritters, Sunny Delight, coffeecoffeecoffee, The Afterlife and America's sick obsession with anorexia -- I mean "beauty".

I could go into all that, but my life right now can be summed up in ( FOUR WORDS )

=end transmission=

I'm dru nkk, my coworkers ater talking about golf and i have putt in my 2weeks notice.
thigs dont gett any betttter than ths.

I've been tickled!

another chip of tooth.
At least there's no pain, but I'm gonna be a toothless old man by the time I'm 38!

MAYDAY!! MAYDAY!!
we're going down!
we're goi--
-transmission lost-

Why is every woman I know so damned attractive?

Gotta go to work....
GAH!!

Well, I had a rather interesting night last night at The Betty Show.
I don't have the time to write about it right now, as I am due at work in like -1 minute.
I am mainly writing this here to remind myself not to forget to write it later.

Oh, and Happy Birthsday to
psychopomp_girl and delilarei.