City News entry for Friday, October 27th, 2006
1. You break. You give up. You collapse. You cry. You just fucking break. I dunno what that’s like because I always reach the second…
2. You stop caring. You reach a point where life is so seemingly difficult that everything you originally valued no longer matters. You’re forced to reevaluate why you are torturing yourself and end up reasoning with yourself until you find a loop hole.
The other day, I pretty much hit my limit. Having just finished that essay (relatively the most important part of my recent academic career) I decided that the other subjects which I now deemed worthless could take a hike. I slept. I ate breakfast. I rode an exercise bike. I walked the freakin dog. After hitting such a limit, I am very glad I did. Yesterday was one of the most wonderful days of my life!
One might even think that now everything is on the way up. I’ve got my eye on a girl, I’ve got a tiny bit of cash in my pocket, and I’ve got high…hopes? Oh, right, I got a new job! Sweet! (By the way, I’m working with children! Parents beware! BWAHAHAHA…but I’m just kiddin! I’ll take good care of the little guys and gals. Teach them to hate the things I hate!)
*(I’m almost done, readers! I’ll stop bitching in a second and save my emo-like rants for my guitar! Your girlfriend left you? FUCK YOU! I don’t even HAVE a girlfriend!)
I am by no means “in the clear.” What punishments I have undergone are merely the first wave in a soon-to-be very bloody onslaught of literary and scholarly pain so severe that I might just get a lobotomy to relieve myself of its horrors and count myself a lucky survivor if I did so.
But I am being selfish and conceited. What about you? How was your day? Would you like a cup of cocoa? Sure you would…one marshmallow or two? See…we here at the City want to remind you that we’re here for you. We may not show it, but that’s because we’re so busy working in this little hole that we scarcely get the time to rise above ground, peeking out our wee heads for the sun to grace our vitamin-d starved bodies.
Naw…I’m bullshittin ya. We here at the City fuck around practically non-stop. It’s only after the comic is a half-hour late that we get serious. Those guys at Mota…now THEY get down and dirty for you! Makin shirts and all that. But not everything I said up there was a lie. We will bring you cocoa and we do have heads and holes to peek and repeek from. It’s actually quite frightening. But serious…We do work for you. If you have any questions, comments, weird drawings, cool recipes, funny stories about your exes…whatever…we have a “contacts” page dedicated to you, the Reader. What did you like? Not like? Drop us a line. At least one of us (probably ReDfielD) will be sure you catch it. And I’ll be glad to read it too!
So feel free to tour the site. Spend some time here and there. We’ll be right here waiting to help you. Unless we’re Haloing. Then you’re on your own. You’ll just have to suck it up. Sorry.
Sincerely,
Your Whiskey Johnson
(by the way, fuck double standards. Eliza…Sanford…you BOTH suck.
How am I supposed to know that you’re high if you won’t let me touch you?-The Hold Steady)
Discovery Channel Destinations: Stroke City
If you’ve ever pushed yourself to your limit, only running on a few hours sleep and a couple of cokes for days, even weeks at a time, you might be familiar with one of two outcomes:1. You break. You give up. You collapse. You cry. You just fucking break. I dunno what that’s like because I always reach the second…
2. You stop caring. You reach a point where life is so seemingly difficult that everything you originally valued no longer matters. You’re forced to reevaluate why you are torturing yourself and end up reasoning with yourself until you find a loop hole.
The other day, I pretty much hit my limit. Having just finished that essay (relatively the most important part of my recent academic career) I decided that the other subjects which I now deemed worthless could take a hike. I slept. I ate breakfast. I rode an exercise bike. I walked the freakin dog. After hitting such a limit, I am very glad I did. Yesterday was one of the most wonderful days of my life!
One might even think that now everything is on the way up. I’ve got my eye on a girl, I’ve got a tiny bit of cash in my pocket, and I’ve got high…hopes? Oh, right, I got a new job! Sweet! (By the way, I’m working with children! Parents beware! BWAHAHAHA…but I’m just kiddin! I’ll take good care of the little guys and gals. Teach them to hate the things I hate!)
*(I’m almost done, readers! I’ll stop bitching in a second and save my emo-like rants for my guitar! Your girlfriend left you? FUCK YOU! I don’t even HAVE a girlfriend!)
I am by no means “in the clear.” What punishments I have undergone are merely the first wave in a soon-to-be very bloody onslaught of literary and scholarly pain so severe that I might just get a lobotomy to relieve myself of its horrors and count myself a lucky survivor if I did so.
But I am being selfish and conceited. What about you? How was your day? Would you like a cup of cocoa? Sure you would…one marshmallow or two? See…we here at the City want to remind you that we’re here for you. We may not show it, but that’s because we’re so busy working in this little hole that we scarcely get the time to rise above ground, peeking out our wee heads for the sun to grace our vitamin-d starved bodies.
Naw…I’m bullshittin ya. We here at the City fuck around practically non-stop. It’s only after the comic is a half-hour late that we get serious. Those guys at Mota…now THEY get down and dirty for you! Makin shirts and all that. But not everything I said up there was a lie. We will bring you cocoa and we do have heads and holes to peek and repeek from. It’s actually quite frightening. But serious…We do work for you. If you have any questions, comments, weird drawings, cool recipes, funny stories about your exes…whatever…we have a “contacts” page dedicated to you, the Reader. What did you like? Not like? Drop us a line. At least one of us (probably ReDfielD) will be sure you catch it. And I’ll be glad to read it too!
So feel free to tour the site. Spend some time here and there. We’ll be right here waiting to help you. Unless we’re Haloing. Then you’re on your own. You’ll just have to suck it up. Sorry.
Sincerely,
Your Whiskey Johnson
(by the way, fuck double standards. Eliza…Sanford…you BOTH suck.
How am I supposed to know that you’re high if you won’t let me touch you?-The Hold Steady)
City News entry for Wednesday, October 25th, 2006
Tuesday:
Get Your Fill
WHISKEY’S SCHEDULE-Tuesday:
- 4pm-Woke up from some sort of nap? No, wait...took nap.
- 6:30~7ishpm(?) Woke up for real. Wanted to watch Simpsons, but had to work on paper.
- 8 or 9pm-Taking random breaks to sneak bites of pie before going back to work on paper.
- 10:50pm-Run out to CarlsJr to get food before the 11pm Simpsons showing. Order 1 Western Bacon Cheeseburger, 1 Spicy Chicken Sandwich. Pay with debit card.
- 11:10pm-Return home to find housemate Drew watching Daily Show. Mutter curses under breath. Decide to watch Daily Show while eating.
- 11:30pm-Promptly return to writing paper. Continue reading 56 pages on Ralph Waldo Emerson for background info.
- 11:45????-realize a comic must be drawn for tomorrow. Deadline in 45 minutes. Analysis: Pretty much impossible. Note: ReDfielD is babbling annoyingly on phone in next room. Currently too delirious to determine exact length of conversation. Estimated time: Many days.
- 12:00am-Somewhere after this time, ReDfielD breaks his yak to discuss possible comic plots with me. A suitable one is determined and fleshed out.
- 12:15am-ReDfielD returns to his world of dog and amphetamines and I am left to grudgingly produce astounding work of art.
- 12:45am-task failed. Now frantically sketching.
- 12:50am-Finish comic and deliver to Redfield. He puts it in his “shit to do that I will not do until tomorrow morning maybe” pile. Convince him to upload now. Leave to work on paper.
- 4:00am-Somewhere around here I complete my paper and in a delirious fashion, attempt to find the mattress upon which I sleep. After locating it positioning myself in the horizontal fashion and setting my alarm for two hours from now, I make great efforts to fall unconscious.
- 4:15am-Realize stomach has turned violently against me. Curse the organ for its ill doings.
- 5:00am-Realize I will not be sleeping tonight. Contemplate skipping sleep. Decide against it. Contemplate drinking. Decide against it. Contemplate skipping class. Decide for it. Compose excuse in head. Done.
- 5:30am-Get up and ride exercise bike, do push-ups and sit-ups.
- 6:15am-shower
- 6:30am-Turn on computer. Compose absence excuses for teachers.
- 7:00am-Decide to write post.
- 7:10am-Finish post. Listen to morning birds singing. Ponder the ridiculous nature of the world, Emerson’s conjecture on idealism, the nature of tragedy as it relates to comedy, and my life currently scraping the rocky bottom. Regret missing shapely brunette in French class. Contemplate drinking.
City News entry for Friday, October 20th, 2006
What does this mean to you, the reader or you, the person who chooses comics over literature because the graphical interface is much easier to digest? That comics and news posts have been shifting around. They may be here, they may appear there, who knows? More importantly, who cares? Lets just forget that these shifts ever happened, ignore them when they appear, or don’t, and move on to business.
We’re back, updating and creating comics in our consistently haphazard fashion. We hope you are enjoying them. Perhaps one day we will even finish some of the projects we pretend to start. Hope you guys keep coming back to visit!
Night all!
-WHISKEY
(P.S. The Martin is a great success!)
Hive Mind
Hey, Kids! You might have noticed some inconsistencies here around the City. The reason for this, we have discovered, is attributed to something known as temporal displacement holes or “Whiskey Gaps”. Trailing scientists agree, “Whiskey Gaps” do exist. Have you ever drunk too much, only to wake up the next day and not remember who or where you are? Whiskey Gaps. Ever had extensive periods of blackness followed by a quick burst of reality? Then you were probably watching UPN and changed the channel. But if you weren’t…WHISKEY GAPS! These are also referred to as “Tequila Worm Holes” or “Rum-outs.”What does this mean to you, the reader or you, the person who chooses comics over literature because the graphical interface is much easier to digest? That comics and news posts have been shifting around. They may be here, they may appear there, who knows? More importantly, who cares? Lets just forget that these shifts ever happened, ignore them when they appear, or don’t, and move on to business.
We’re back, updating and creating comics in our consistently haphazard fashion. We hope you are enjoying them. Perhaps one day we will even finish some of the projects we pretend to start. Hope you guys keep coming back to visit!
Night all!
-WHISKEY
(P.S. The Martin is a great success!)
City News entry for Wednesday, October 18th, 2006
Crap. A lot has happened since the last post. Nothing significant, but as things tend to occur in a rather linear fashion in the progression of time, time has passed and things have indeed occurred.
Awhile back, I was trying to merge into a lane to get to a freeway onramp and the driver in that lane would not let me in. I did the typical California maneuver called for in such an instance and continued to pull into his lane until he could either slow down or force an accident. Keep in mind I do not LIKE doing this. It is a matter of necessity that I, happening to miss my lane change while trying to make a stoplight, must “cut in” at the last minute and debatably “screw” the people behind me in that lane. I became very angry when this falsely judicious stranger attempted, with his ill-conceived sense of righteousness, to bring the vengeance of numerous drivers upon my unfortunate being. I contemplated all the times I had been charitable to others in my exact situation, repented for my accidental crimes, and even vowed to let TWO people in that day…twice the number of favors this man had done me (if you could even call it such.)
So fuck him.
I sped onto the freeway and never looked back.
Situation two: I don’t quite remember what this was, so I will skip it.
Situation three: If I have enough money by the time they are in range, I will engage two targets of fun and blow the fun out of them! What a convoluted metaphor. Anyways, the Queen Mary Shipwreck Halloween Terror Fest is coming up. Supposedly, they deck out the Queen Mary boat with seven…uh…decks of freaky mazes. All the mazes lead to a gigantic dance floor where all the freaky creatures can get their…uh…freak on. I need a thesaurus for Christmas, folks. Anyways, the whole thing sounds awesome. If we get super drunk later, all the better! I just hope we don’t get seasickness AND get the shit scared out of us, or we’ll be very soggy Halloweeners, indeed!
Another great event coming up is the Say Anything show at the House of Blues, San Diego chapter. I’m a rather new fan of this band, but I’ve heard they’re a lot of fun in person. Also, Kerry has agreed to accompany me and our lovely friend Michelle might even join us. AND the HOB means DRINKS on me! Well, not on me, but in me for sure. Maybe I’ll even buy Kerry a drink if she ends up getting our tickets.
I remember what the second situation was, but since it came after the third situation in this post, it will now be referred to as the fourth.
Situation Fourth: er…four. Justin decided that, after an enlightening experience at Dave and Busters, he will no longer be drinking “girly drinks” like Apple-tinis, but instead will only be drinking “man-drinks” from now on. His first step in this precarious direction: the original James Bond martini from the first book. According to Justin’s internet sources, it consists of 2 shots vodka, 2/3rds of a shot gin, and 1/3rd vermouth. And a lemon slice. Don’t forget that citrusy waste.
Always one to follow Justin’s lead, I asked him to make a Bond martini for me as well. Shit, that stuff took forever to drink. I thought I was man enough with a handful of Yukon Jack shots (which I can shoot again, thank goodness) or by helping drain a bottle of tequila, but I am not. Yet. Once again I must rise to the challenge and, this time, master the martini. Soon I will be putting martinis away like Justin putting away his Baby Big Girl Alcoholic Tea Set.
However, Justin raised a good point: All this alcohol is expensive. Until we start some sort of alcohol savings-account, we must start conserving. What is the answer to our dilemma, asked Justin. “We’ll make Martins!” I replied.
I honestly don’t know if this has ever been thought up (probably has) but I refer to the “Martin” as “the poor man’s martini.” It is basically any alcoholic beverage in a martini glass with some sort of extra, be it olive, onion, or fruit slice. I believe the first attempt will be with beer and an olive, but we’ll see where we go from there. If you like the idea of the “Martin, the poor man’s martini,” please spread the word! And enjoy! Feel free to send us any cool recipes to simple, cheap drinks you’ve created or prefer. We’d really appreciate it!
I think I actually hear ReDfielD trying to convince Justin to have an Apple-tini. Speak of the devil! Later kids, I got a lot of tiredness to cure.
To the Martin!
-WHISKEY
It Came In Through The Bathroom Window
Crap. A lot has happened since the last post. Nothing significant, but as things tend to occur in a rather linear fashion in the progression of time, time has passed and things have indeed occurred.
Awhile back, I was trying to merge into a lane to get to a freeway onramp and the driver in that lane would not let me in. I did the typical California maneuver called for in such an instance and continued to pull into his lane until he could either slow down or force an accident. Keep in mind I do not LIKE doing this. It is a matter of necessity that I, happening to miss my lane change while trying to make a stoplight, must “cut in” at the last minute and debatably “screw” the people behind me in that lane. I became very angry when this falsely judicious stranger attempted, with his ill-conceived sense of righteousness, to bring the vengeance of numerous drivers upon my unfortunate being. I contemplated all the times I had been charitable to others in my exact situation, repented for my accidental crimes, and even vowed to let TWO people in that day…twice the number of favors this man had done me (if you could even call it such.)
So fuck him.
I sped onto the freeway and never looked back.
Situation two: I don’t quite remember what this was, so I will skip it.
Situation three: If I have enough money by the time they are in range, I will engage two targets of fun and blow the fun out of them! What a convoluted metaphor. Anyways, the Queen Mary Shipwreck Halloween Terror Fest is coming up. Supposedly, they deck out the Queen Mary boat with seven…uh…decks of freaky mazes. All the mazes lead to a gigantic dance floor where all the freaky creatures can get their…uh…freak on. I need a thesaurus for Christmas, folks. Anyways, the whole thing sounds awesome. If we get super drunk later, all the better! I just hope we don’t get seasickness AND get the shit scared out of us, or we’ll be very soggy Halloweeners, indeed!
Another great event coming up is the Say Anything show at the House of Blues, San Diego chapter. I’m a rather new fan of this band, but I’ve heard they’re a lot of fun in person. Also, Kerry has agreed to accompany me and our lovely friend Michelle might even join us. AND the HOB means DRINKS on me! Well, not on me, but in me for sure. Maybe I’ll even buy Kerry a drink if she ends up getting our tickets.
I remember what the second situation was, but since it came after the third situation in this post, it will now be referred to as the fourth.
Situation Fourth: er…four. Justin decided that, after an enlightening experience at Dave and Busters, he will no longer be drinking “girly drinks” like Apple-tinis, but instead will only be drinking “man-drinks” from now on. His first step in this precarious direction: the original James Bond martini from the first book. According to Justin’s internet sources, it consists of 2 shots vodka, 2/3rds of a shot gin, and 1/3rd vermouth. And a lemon slice. Don’t forget that citrusy waste.
Always one to follow Justin’s lead, I asked him to make a Bond martini for me as well. Shit, that stuff took forever to drink. I thought I was man enough with a handful of Yukon Jack shots (which I can shoot again, thank goodness) or by helping drain a bottle of tequila, but I am not. Yet. Once again I must rise to the challenge and, this time, master the martini. Soon I will be putting martinis away like Justin putting away his Baby Big Girl Alcoholic Tea Set.
However, Justin raised a good point: All this alcohol is expensive. Until we start some sort of alcohol savings-account, we must start conserving. What is the answer to our dilemma, asked Justin. “We’ll make Martins!” I replied.
I honestly don’t know if this has ever been thought up (probably has) but I refer to the “Martin” as “the poor man’s martini.” It is basically any alcoholic beverage in a martini glass with some sort of extra, be it olive, onion, or fruit slice. I believe the first attempt will be with beer and an olive, but we’ll see where we go from there. If you like the idea of the “Martin, the poor man’s martini,” please spread the word! And enjoy! Feel free to send us any cool recipes to simple, cheap drinks you’ve created or prefer. We’d really appreciate it!
I think I actually hear ReDfielD trying to convince Justin to have an Apple-tini. Speak of the devil! Later kids, I got a lot of tiredness to cure.
To the Martin!
-WHISKEY
City News entry for Friday, October 13th, 2006
I actually felt very bad for the driver, who immediately got out of the car to see if the biker was okay. The biker said he was fine, picked up his bike, hobbled off to the sidewalk, and road away down a path away from the main road. Okay, for sure the biker was shook up, but what about the driver? Imagine hitting someone with your car. Every thought in your head must suddenly become meaningless: “What should I have for dinner? I wonder whether (wife) fixed those pork chops that I like. Damn, I’m gonna have to take out the trash. Trash...man, that Ted at the office is a huge jerk...I just wanna...OH SHIT! A FUCKING BIKER! OH, FUCK, HE’S UNDER MY CAR!!!” It happens that fast and then the guy just rides off and disappears. I bet the next thought in that guy’s head isn’t about little Suzy’s boring-ass recital anymore.
What does this have to do with StrokeCity, the website? StrokeCity, the comic? I dunno. It all factors in somewhere. Maybe not today, but that wasn’t hard to guess. It’s already 2am and the comic has already been up for an hour.
Lemme see...anything else interesting? Nope. Not unless ReDfielD has anything to say. Ol’ Red? No? Okay, than we’re done.
Night kids. This has been one weird Stroke City Post day.
-WHISKEY J
And Then There Were Two
Today I saw a bike-rider get hit by a car. In the driver’s defense, it was entirely the biker’s fault. The biker was riding against traffic, did not use the cross walk, and road out when the light had just turned green for traffic going perpendicular to his direction, not to mention he wasn’t even wearing a helmet. Sure, maybe a helmet sounds lame, but when you’re the type of biker to ride out into traffic, wearing a helmet is most likely the only smart decision you’ll make. That and putting that pink “donor” sticker on your drivers license.I actually felt very bad for the driver, who immediately got out of the car to see if the biker was okay. The biker said he was fine, picked up his bike, hobbled off to the sidewalk, and road away down a path away from the main road. Okay, for sure the biker was shook up, but what about the driver? Imagine hitting someone with your car. Every thought in your head must suddenly become meaningless: “What should I have for dinner? I wonder whether (wife) fixed those pork chops that I like. Damn, I’m gonna have to take out the trash. Trash...man, that Ted at the office is a huge jerk...I just wanna...OH SHIT! A FUCKING BIKER! OH, FUCK, HE’S UNDER MY CAR!!!” It happens that fast and then the guy just rides off and disappears. I bet the next thought in that guy’s head isn’t about little Suzy’s boring-ass recital anymore.
What does this have to do with StrokeCity, the website? StrokeCity, the comic? I dunno. It all factors in somewhere. Maybe not today, but that wasn’t hard to guess. It’s already 2am and the comic has already been up for an hour.
Lemme see...anything else interesting? Nope. Not unless ReDfielD has anything to say. Ol’ Red? No? Okay, than we’re done.
Night kids. This has been one weird Stroke City Post day.
-WHISKEY J
City News entry for Wednesday, October 11th, 2006
Her: That will be $1.21
Me: (I hand her a $5 bill) I think I have 21 cents.
Her: Oh, that’s okay.
Me: No, I have it right here.
Her: Oh, no, it’s fine!
Me: Wait, I have 21 cents! HERE!
Her: Don’t worry, I got it! (clothes cash register drawer)
(Gives me $3.79) Have a nice day!
I was so surprised that I didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t until I was walking to the parking lot with a pound of change clinking in my pocket that I realized I was furious. For anyone who’s ever worked as, been attended by, or even seen a cashier, you must know there’s a certain script that’s being acted out here people! When someone says “I have that change,” you do not go out of your way to find a penny that dropped on the floor. The customer is not asking if it would inconvenient for you, the cashier, to take cash, but rather he or she most likely wants to use this currency to pay for the godamn purchase!!!! I understand where she went wrong. She obviously misinterpreted the “I have the change you’ve requested” response with “I do NOT have the change you’ve requested.” Small but important detail here, people.
Perhaps I was more bitter over my lack of assertiveness, and rightly so. I should have hopped the counter, grabbed her by her ponytail and told her to her face in a cool and collected manner that I want a GODAMN DOLLAR BILL! But that would be overreacting and we are all great, respectable, compassionate people, right?
(SIGH) So I tried to let the entire day sink from my memory as I gorged myself on some post-drug test Rice King. One odd thing about the drug test: it was both a drug AND alcohol screening. Are they just trying to weed out the applicants who are so unfit for the job that they’ll drink the day of their drug test? Hm…on second thought, that’s a very clever system! Our children are at least safe from blatant inadequacy. Haha…weed out! Drug test! Get it? Awwww…I lost my place.
A comment on today’s strip: A while back I was driving with a friend through Hillcrest, one of San Diego’s gay districts, and there in an S&M store window I spied a Batman costume. Someone more naïve may have thought this particular costume unfinished since there was no shirt and no pants. However, there was a very clever ass-less chaps configuration going on. On this particular day, we had no time to stop by the time I did get back down to Hillcrest more than a year later (consequently, to try on funny hats), both the shop and the costume were no where to be found. Still, I often dream of how cool it would be to have my very own sexy Batman costume. It would go great for parties! Perhaps…All Hallow’s eve?
I will leave you with these delectable visions of vinyl and flesh as I bid you a tired adieu. Hope your day was much better than mine!
Here’s to hopefully passing my drug test and the celebration that follows!
-WHISKEY A GO-GO
(For your records, I like to pronounce “God damn” as “GODAMN”; one long, flowing, beautiful composition of phonemes, consonants, and what have you swirling around my tongue like cool liqueur in the bottom of a tumbler.)
For The Boobs!
I wasn’t so happy coming home today. Not only did I get no sleep AND spend several hours in traffic AND circle a business park for ten minutes looking for a mysterious and allusive medical building in which I had to regulate the flow of my urine as to not overfill a small plastic sampling cup, yet provided enough of the liquid as to clear my name of any drug-based injustice or alcohol-infused debauchery…no, THAT was all cool. It was the damn cashier girl from midday. The conversation went like this:Her: That will be $1.21
Me: (I hand her a $5 bill) I think I have 21 cents.
Her: Oh, that’s okay.
Me: No, I have it right here.
Her: Oh, no, it’s fine!
Me: Wait, I have 21 cents! HERE!
Her: Don’t worry, I got it! (clothes cash register drawer)
(Gives me $3.79) Have a nice day!
I was so surprised that I didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t until I was walking to the parking lot with a pound of change clinking in my pocket that I realized I was furious. For anyone who’s ever worked as, been attended by, or even seen a cashier, you must know there’s a certain script that’s being acted out here people! When someone says “I have that change,” you do not go out of your way to find a penny that dropped on the floor. The customer is not asking if it would inconvenient for you, the cashier, to take cash, but rather he or she most likely wants to use this currency to pay for the godamn purchase!!!! I understand where she went wrong. She obviously misinterpreted the “I have the change you’ve requested” response with “I do NOT have the change you’ve requested.” Small but important detail here, people.
Perhaps I was more bitter over my lack of assertiveness, and rightly so. I should have hopped the counter, grabbed her by her ponytail and told her to her face in a cool and collected manner that I want a GODAMN DOLLAR BILL! But that would be overreacting and we are all great, respectable, compassionate people, right?
(SIGH) So I tried to let the entire day sink from my memory as I gorged myself on some post-drug test Rice King. One odd thing about the drug test: it was both a drug AND alcohol screening. Are they just trying to weed out the applicants who are so unfit for the job that they’ll drink the day of their drug test? Hm…on second thought, that’s a very clever system! Our children are at least safe from blatant inadequacy. Haha…weed out! Drug test! Get it? Awwww…I lost my place.
A comment on today’s strip: A while back I was driving with a friend through Hillcrest, one of San Diego’s gay districts, and there in an S&M store window I spied a Batman costume. Someone more naïve may have thought this particular costume unfinished since there was no shirt and no pants. However, there was a very clever ass-less chaps configuration going on. On this particular day, we had no time to stop by the time I did get back down to Hillcrest more than a year later (consequently, to try on funny hats), both the shop and the costume were no where to be found. Still, I often dream of how cool it would be to have my very own sexy Batman costume. It would go great for parties! Perhaps…All Hallow’s eve?
I will leave you with these delectable visions of vinyl and flesh as I bid you a tired adieu. Hope your day was much better than mine!
Here’s to hopefully passing my drug test and the celebration that follows!
-WHISKEY A GO-GO
(For your records, I like to pronounce “God damn” as “GODAMN”; one long, flowing, beautiful composition of phonemes, consonants, and what have you swirling around my tongue like cool liqueur in the bottom of a tumbler.)
City News entry for Monday, October 9th, 2006
I've been subscribing to the teachings of Whiskey Johnson for some time now and finally thought I'd take my first step to achieving Whiskey Nirvana: I quit my job. I put in my two-weeks and today was my last day as a room service attendant. So Stroke City, the site that is as-of-yet incapable of making money, now has to support two bright-eyed and bushy-tailed gents. o.O
Wish Whisky and I luck on our unemployed endeavors!
- Redfield
I suppose we are all the diggers of our own graves. Being as lazy as I am, one would think I’d live well into my hundreds. Alas, that will not be so. Contrary to such logic, it would appear that I am destined to die hairy and alone clutching an out-of-tune guitar in a gutter somewhere, preferably France. It’s not that France is really that great a place (it seemed pretty old and dirty when I went there), but in terms of being a decent place to die, I bet it would afford a nice view.
Is this fate entirely unexpected? Well, …no. When one looks back on the lives of many great artists, it is quite common for them to die young and broke. If there were any records of value of any not-so-great artists, I’m sure they too died young and broke or, at least, found other jobs. When one tacks on the title of “webcomic”, my future is not only grim and dim, but the black hole I call my life is indeed so dark that no light will escape to illuminate it.
So, until my early demise, enjoy these panels and take to heart these words: always zip up your pants tight, for you never know when misfortune will strike. However, if it does, take it as an opportunity to present yourself in the best of lights. Nothing quite catches the heart of a good woman like humor. Well, besides maybe money, but I think you can decipher from this post, and Redfield’s, that I indeed have none of that.
Goodnight, fellow StrokeCitians! May your tomorrows fare much better than those of State and County combined. (A convoluted pun.)
Drink well and always to great things!
-Whiskey
Next Time...Suspenders
Hey guys, I'm giving Whiskey a little time off so he can do his homework and get some sleep for school tomorrow. Even ol' Whiskey J. needs rest.I've been subscribing to the teachings of Whiskey Johnson for some time now and finally thought I'd take my first step to achieving Whiskey Nirvana: I quit my job. I put in my two-weeks and today was my last day as a room service attendant. So Stroke City, the site that is as-of-yet incapable of making money, now has to support two bright-eyed and bushy-tailed gents. o.O
Wish Whisky and I luck on our unemployed endeavors!
- Redfield
|
|
Is this fate entirely unexpected? Well, …no. When one looks back on the lives of many great artists, it is quite common for them to die young and broke. If there were any records of value of any not-so-great artists, I’m sure they too died young and broke or, at least, found other jobs. When one tacks on the title of “webcomic”, my future is not only grim and dim, but the black hole I call my life is indeed so dark that no light will escape to illuminate it.
So, until my early demise, enjoy these panels and take to heart these words: always zip up your pants tight, for you never know when misfortune will strike. However, if it does, take it as an opportunity to present yourself in the best of lights. Nothing quite catches the heart of a good woman like humor. Well, besides maybe money, but I think you can decipher from this post, and Redfield’s, that I indeed have none of that.
Goodnight, fellow StrokeCitians! May your tomorrows fare much better than those of State and County combined. (A convoluted pun.)
Drink well and always to great things!
-Whiskey
City News entry for Friday, October 6th, 2006
With such a heavy sense of worry bearing down on me half the week, one would think I would try to compensate with profuse amounts of sleep the other half. However, this is not the case. I treasure my evenings of endless mild enjoyment to the point where deprivation is a small price to pay. What am I saying? This is getting too long!!!
Point being, I didn’t do the post because I stayed up all night watching TV, going to Dennys and then playing Halo until six in the morning. As I began to close my eyes, covering my face with a sock I had lying around to block out the morning sun, I recalled my eve with a deep sense of satisfaction and a smile upon my face. ::Happy SIGH::
So, now, here at 4:30 in the afternoon, I create this post for your weekend enjoyment. I’d like to think we managed to kill some time together. Just wanted to let you know we work occasionally hard to keep you happy and are thrilled to have those of you who show up week after week to partake in our adventures…we appreciate your support. Also, the tardiness of this post is all reDfielD’s fault.
-WHISKEY out
(Whiskey out? NOOOOO! HOW WILL THE POOR PEOPLE DRINK NOW?!?! Let them eat bleach! I mean, cake.)
Bad-Ass Nachos
If I had to think of one characteristic common to the majority of my evenings, it would be this: no sleep. Sunday nights, Tuesday nights, and on occasion Monday nights, all yield independent sleep totals as high as 4 hours and as low as no sleep whatsoever. Needless to say, my Mondays and Wednesdays are pure agony and every time I get behind the wheel I question whether this will be my last glimpse of the world. Will I nod off into impending vehicular doom? Will I wake to the sounds of sirens and flashing red lights? Will I dream?With such a heavy sense of worry bearing down on me half the week, one would think I would try to compensate with profuse amounts of sleep the other half. However, this is not the case. I treasure my evenings of endless mild enjoyment to the point where deprivation is a small price to pay. What am I saying? This is getting too long!!!
Point being, I didn’t do the post because I stayed up all night watching TV, going to Dennys and then playing Halo until six in the morning. As I began to close my eyes, covering my face with a sock I had lying around to block out the morning sun, I recalled my eve with a deep sense of satisfaction and a smile upon my face. ::Happy SIGH::
So, now, here at 4:30 in the afternoon, I create this post for your weekend enjoyment. I’d like to think we managed to kill some time together. Just wanted to let you know we work occasionally hard to keep you happy and are thrilled to have those of you who show up week after week to partake in our adventures…we appreciate your support. Also, the tardiness of this post is all reDfielD’s fault.
-WHISKEY out
(Whiskey out? NOOOOO! HOW WILL THE POOR PEOPLE DRINK NOW?!?! Let them eat bleach! I mean, cake.)
City News entry for Wednesday, October 4th, 2006
(It’s pretty unreasonable that I still wonder why I drink when so much evidence continues to present itself! But that is a study for another post...perhaps when May 5 rolls around and I get really really drunk.)
But back to my influences…
Any of you remember Looney Tunes and such? Bugs Bunny and Wile E. Coyote? That sorta thing? I think these cartoons are why I laugh at the idea of something blowing up in someone’s face or something getting hit by a semi-truck without any warning whatsoever. Some may not see the similarities and instead will think only a sick and deranged person would laugh at such misfortunes. However, I believe they either have not enough imagination or rather, so much so that it blinds them from the separation between comedic fantasy and boring reality. It’s people like these that keep us from putting up the “Baby/Balloon/Shotgun” comic!
I expected to say more, but got horribly sidetracked. I hope you all don’t mind. Some day I can catalogue all this and include appropriate notes and annotations, but for now, my 3 hours of sleep beckons to me like some beautiful, nude woman covered in birthday cake frosting and humming Fountains of Wayne’s “Sink to the Bottom”.
Yeah. You know. Just like that.
Lates, kiddos!
-WHISKEY
Censored...For YOU!
As I get older, I often find myself dissecting my sense of humor and trying to analyze its origins. I have broken these down into several categories including: early cartoons from my childhood, underground comics during my teenage years, and a lifetime of parental influence. This is not to say that my parents will laugh at the same things I do. Far from it. When I showed my father this website that I spend all my time working on instead of searching for a job, he did not seem impressed. God help me if my mother ever sees this site. She loves me like any mother loves her son, but recognizes certain dark and avoidable evils all the same. If anything has affected me at all from my childhood, it’s the vicious and emotionally painful scolding of a caring mother; something I do my best to avoid these days.(It’s pretty unreasonable that I still wonder why I drink when so much evidence continues to present itself! But that is a study for another post...perhaps when May 5 rolls around and I get really really drunk.)
But back to my influences…
Any of you remember Looney Tunes and such? Bugs Bunny and Wile E. Coyote? That sorta thing? I think these cartoons are why I laugh at the idea of something blowing up in someone’s face or something getting hit by a semi-truck without any warning whatsoever. Some may not see the similarities and instead will think only a sick and deranged person would laugh at such misfortunes. However, I believe they either have not enough imagination or rather, so much so that it blinds them from the separation between comedic fantasy and boring reality. It’s people like these that keep us from putting up the “Baby/Balloon/Shotgun” comic!
I expected to say more, but got horribly sidetracked. I hope you all don’t mind. Some day I can catalogue all this and include appropriate notes and annotations, but for now, my 3 hours of sleep beckons to me like some beautiful, nude woman covered in birthday cake frosting and humming Fountains of Wayne’s “Sink to the Bottom”.
Yeah. You know. Just like that.
Lates, kiddos!
-WHISKEY
City News entry for Monday, October 2nd, 2006
Last night marked the return of Kings and the continuation of my beerly torment. Once again I had shot problems. I think this is some sort of sinus related thing caused by lack of airflow in my room at night. Each morning I wake...okay, I don’t want to get into it, but the result is that when taking in whiskey, it goes up my throat and through my nasal cavities and burns the entire trip through, thus rendering shots of 100 proof alcohol practically undrinkable. Sobriety? Not likely. As long as we have wonderful people like Kerry willing to drive us (however dangerously) to the store and purchasing 18 packs of beer, our Offices will never go dry.
I re-watched some FLCL today. Great stuff, even if it is only six episodes. And the soundtrack made up almost entirely of The Pillows music, is great fun! Makes me feel all nostalgic, though. It’s been awhile since I’ve settled down to watch the old stuff. Perhaps I’ll soon go double or nothing and bust out the Evangelion. Maybe an Eva marathon is in order!
By the way, if I haven’t mentioned it, The Office is a great show. Hopefully Patrick will return to watch it with us every Thursday! We’d be glad to have him!
Well, that about wraps up this weekend. Another week, another three comics, and a chance to start some new projects. Keep your eyes peeled, kids! (In about another three months)
OH SHIT! I forgot! A few nights ago, Crutchfield and I were sitting around munching on double-westerns and came across The 40 Year Old Virgin. I’d never seen it before and was pleasantly surprised. Like Wedding Crashers, the writers/directors/whoever decided to go above the normal level of comedic crudeness and actually included some character development! Frick yes! For those of you who don’t like that sorta thing, there’s still plenty of everything to go around.
Okay, now we’re done. Goodnight everyone, and have a safe and happy whatever the hell. Oh right, Jewish holiday on Monday! Enjoy it, everyone! Unless it’s one of those solemn ones. I dunno, I’m not down with the religious in-crowd these days.
Later!
-Mr. McWhiskey
Seeing Double(D)
We’ve begun to overflow with ideas, so it seems. The drought is over for now! Everyone get your mental bathing suits on so that we may partake in this lovely gift from the Lord above! Viva los comics! Viva los ideas politicas y ideas sin perspectivas politicas! Wow, is any of that sentence right?Last night marked the return of Kings and the continuation of my beerly torment. Once again I had shot problems. I think this is some sort of sinus related thing caused by lack of airflow in my room at night. Each morning I wake...okay, I don’t want to get into it, but the result is that when taking in whiskey, it goes up my throat and through my nasal cavities and burns the entire trip through, thus rendering shots of 100 proof alcohol practically undrinkable. Sobriety? Not likely. As long as we have wonderful people like Kerry willing to drive us (however dangerously) to the store and purchasing 18 packs of beer, our Offices will never go dry.
I re-watched some FLCL today. Great stuff, even if it is only six episodes. And the soundtrack made up almost entirely of The Pillows music, is great fun! Makes me feel all nostalgic, though. It’s been awhile since I’ve settled down to watch the old stuff. Perhaps I’ll soon go double or nothing and bust out the Evangelion. Maybe an Eva marathon is in order!
By the way, if I haven’t mentioned it, The Office is a great show. Hopefully Patrick will return to watch it with us every Thursday! We’d be glad to have him!
Well, that about wraps up this weekend. Another week, another three comics, and a chance to start some new projects. Keep your eyes peeled, kids! (In about another three months)
OH SHIT! I forgot! A few nights ago, Crutchfield and I were sitting around munching on double-westerns and came across The 40 Year Old Virgin. I’d never seen it before and was pleasantly surprised. Like Wedding Crashers, the writers/directors/whoever decided to go above the normal level of comedic crudeness and actually included some character development! Frick yes! For those of you who don’t like that sorta thing, there’s still plenty of everything to go around.
Okay, now we’re done. Goodnight everyone, and have a safe and happy whatever the hell. Oh right, Jewish holiday on Monday! Enjoy it, everyone! Unless it’s one of those solemn ones. I dunno, I’m not down with the religious in-crowd these days.
Later!
-Mr. McWhiskey
