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The most insane things I have done because bugs.

The most insane things I have done because bugs. published on No Comments on The most insane things I have done because bugs.

Sorry for the absence, everyone. I had computer problems. Where did we leave off? Oh yeah… bugs are terrible.


This cartoon was inspired by real life events, a bit of an unusual move for me. If there’s a lesson to be learned here, it’s that it’s not just spiders that terrorize me. Once upon a time, which is fancy story telling terms for ‘about a week and a half ago’ I had an incident which started out with a clogged toilet, It was that toilet that prevented me from noticing the wasp on the faucet when I went to wash my hands. This left me with a dilemma- do I brave the wasp again to turn the faucet off or do I leave the water running forever? Gathering every single iota of bravery I had, I lunged at the faucet and promptly tore my fingernail down to the quick (boy am I glad I didn’t get stung!). Miraculously, the wasp didn’t move. Not wanting to press my luck, I backed slowly out of the bathroom, which seemed like a brilliant plan until I tripped over that shoe.

I honestly don’t know why bugs frighten me so. I have no enemy more determined to do me in than me. Over the course of the next week, that wasp moved around my sink just far enough to let me know he was still alive and could (I assume) kill me. Sure, you can lighten up on the liquids as much as you like, but eventually you’re going to have to go in there. I thought about hitting it with a magazine, but what if I only made it mad? It could be a mutant super wasp. I thought about catching it under a cup, but it kept hanging out on the edge where nothing could really cover it, so clearly it had the genius of at least Einstein, if not Stephen Hawking,

Finally, I broke out the vacuum cleaner. Thankfully I have a super light super tight Dyson (who did not pay me to characterize it this way, but I wouldn’t say no to a few bucks Dyson reps who may be reading this), which allowed me to get him from a verrrrry long ways away. But even though this vacuum is so mighty that I can tear the nap right out of my carpet if I’m not careful, I had to immediately run it to the closet because what if this adamantine warrior of the miniature set survived and was really really mad about the involuntary amusement park I just ran it through? Clearly the vacuum will need to be quarantined for oh… I think about two years. Just to be safe.

This is part of a larger pattern with me. A laughably irrational pattern. In the past I have:

*Thrown a laptop across the room because a spider crawled across the screen in the dark. My panic as it left my fingertips doubled when it hit the wall.

*Slept under a nest of blankets because I couldn’t force myself to turn off that lamp while that moth kept hogging that space around the switch.

*Gone to the movies just because, the because being that I would assume that spider was somewhere less visible by the time I got home from the theater.

*And of course there’s the ‘I don’t want to look like an idiot’ dance I do every year because I’m really trying to play it cool but I have yet to discover signature scent that bees don’t recognize as ‘pollen’.

Please tell me, oh loyal readers, that I’m not alone in this bugaphobia. Because my shrink and I have been at this make me less insane thing awhile now, and we haven’t even got to the bugs yet.

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Rethinking the Obvious (Or Uatu Barada Nikto!)

Rethinking the Obvious (Or Uatu Barada Nikto!) published on No Comments on Rethinking the Obvious (Or Uatu Barada Nikto!)

In the Marvel Universe there’s a character known as the Watcher. It’s his job to y’know… watch things. Think of him as a peeping Tom with the entire solar system as the bathroom (I know there are plenty of other ways in which you can envision reality as a toilet, but let’s not depress ourselves).

The Watcher is someone who is, above all else, supposed to watch and not get involved. See, he has this Prime Directive that he can’t interfere with developing cultures. Wait…. that’s Star Trek. I’m always confusing the Watcher with Jean-Luc Picard. But still… you get the gist.

Here’s the thing though, the Watcher is about as faithful to his guiding principle as a Star Fleet officer three days removed from his Kobayashi Maru (boy, these genre mash-ups are fun!), and that has a tendency to get him in a lot of trouble with his people. His problem, as I see it, was that he felt too clever by hiding in plain sight. The Watcher lives on the moon, which even mortal man can get to with rockets, to say nothing of reality bending smarty pants like Dr. Strange.

If the Watcher hid in the Sun instead, all his problems could have been averted. You look at people from the one place they literally can’t look at and you’re safe as long as men have retinas.

Behold

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Now That’s a Large Hadron…

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hadronfinalSome time ago, my good friend Ben- who is a genius and my biggest fan that’s not my mom (hi Ben!) had an idea that I still feel was eons ahead of it’s time: The Large Hadron Collider Joke Facebook page. I was lucky enough to be a part of that and it sparked my interest in the large hadron collider in Geneva.

Before anyone calls out my ignorance, I do know that the collider is what’s large and that the hadrons are in fact subatomic. But that’s what makes a joke a joke. The idea of Godzilla Higgs-Boson eating Switzerland and then the world cracks me up.

Why do I bring this up now? Because the big news this week is that our friendly neighbors to the North (unless you’re in Alaska, in which case it’s the friendly neighbors to the South…. Oh and Hawaii I guess makes them…. You know what? Let’s call them Canadians) have a theory that there are alternate two dimensional universes lying one on top of another and microscopically separated. These theoretical universes are known as branes (or in zombie universe: BRRAAAANNNESSSSSS!!!!) and it’s possible that Black Holes may be doorways to these dimensions.

This is big news to us for two reasons. One, because it means that DISNEY WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG and we can finally bring Hans Reinhardt home.  Second, we may in fact be Universe 616.

This leads me to one inescapable conclusion: The Large Hadron Collider is going to be used to prove that God is, in fact, the disembodied frozen head of Walt Disney, running the omniverse from an underground bunker deep in the hills of Anaheim. God has one prophet, and Stan Lee is his name. There’s a reason why Disney acquired Marvel on it’s way to acquiring everything else. (Side theory:Michael Eisner is Galactus -think about it).  All the public figures that are making our lives so… huh? are in fact animatronic next gen Disney cyborgs that are paving the way for us to want to move a universe over.

 

… I am of course open to alternate theories.

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So the Thing About Chickens is…

So the Thing About Chickens is… published on No Comments on So the Thing About Chickens is…

4 out of 5 chickens you meet are going to end up in a KFC bucket. It’s an ugly fact no one wants to talk about because it would make it that much harder to look our chicken friends in the eye.

The unfortunate side effect is that the 1 in 5 that are left make up a very vulnerable subpopulation and many, if not most, of those chickens end up as sex workers. What else are they going to do?

Bob was going to be different. He had mighty chicken dreams. He was always the first to school and the last to leave. He was undeterred when his classmates laughed at his chicken accent. The answers were still right. He was still Valeclucktorian. His teachers all said chickens couldn’t be doctors, but he knew that chickens couldn’t be doctors yet. He would break through that shell barrier.

He made the grades, he had the extracurricular activities and he thought his entrance essay was nothing short of brilliant (Bob had a pretty big head for a chicken sometimes). His heart was broken when he received back the reply from Stanford that was a mere 4 words long. “Chickens can’t be doctors”.

So here he was. For now. Doing what a chicken has to do to survive. But he still has his dreams and he knows that one day he’ll be Dr. Robert Alinsky, M.D. with a specialty in gastroenterology.

If she hadn’t gone to meet her maker at that Kenny Rogers Roasters, he knew his mother would be proud.

chickfinal

(This piece of speculative semi-fanfiction owes a debt of gratitude to Elmer, by Gerry Alanguilan)

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