Comic for Monday, May 8th, 2006

Posted: 7:40 am, Monday, May 8th

Hola, gang. Everyone have a good weekend? It was a busy one here. 2.0 was workin' all weekend on her show, which you are instructed to go to tonight. In fact, I'm going to make you look at the invite before I go any further.

And me? What was I doing? Much less, I assure you. A little drawin', a little writin' - I've been working on some short stories lately to try and get myself into the writing groove again, and I'm kind of enjoying it - and a little PlayStationin'. The Blue-Gold game stirred up the football lust in my blood, so I've been playing the old Irish teams on NCAA whichever one I have, the one with Carson Palmer on the cover, and have been wishboning it all up in fools' grills. 1938 Tennessee's got nothing on me. Watched the ponies - Reggie Ho was down there - and basically had the same thoughts as this guy did. I used to go to the Belmont every year before weddings started happening on that weekend with alarming regularity, but basically for the atmosphere. I can't tell what the hell's going on with those horses. One wins, but they fly by so fast, I can never tell if it's the one I've got money on (as a rule of thumb, it's not).

Oh, the other thing I did was - and this is embarrassing to admit - set up my MySpace page. RAW had invited me to be his friend back in December or something, and since I'm actually friends with RAW, I said yes. Then I saw what a freaking nightmare it was and ran away for several months. Then Retrocrush joined, and for some reason I felt the need to be Robert Berry's friendster or whatever the hell you call it. ("MySpace friend"? I dunno.) I also noticed that, for some reason, a few people from my past seem to have tracked me down. Well, what the hell, I figured, if I could for some reason direct more people to the site, why not fill out all the retarded questions they ask over at MySpace. I do seem to have taken on the persona of someone who hates talking to people, but that's largely because I filled out that part while I was at the office. Frickin', the office. Anyway, hey, if you'd like, why not be my MySpace friendster? Please? 'Cause right now "Tom" is a quarter of all the friends I have. I promise to not horrid up the background with some awful tiled .gif of a pot leaf or a Baywatch babe or something, honest.

Oh, another thing I did was - well, for one, I started two paragraphs almost identically, and I seem obsessed with telling you what I did over the weekend, which I can't expect any of you actually find that interesting, but, oh well. What was it I did? Oh, right. I came up with yet another shirt design, having long ago abandoned the original idea I had back in September or sometime (I need to act on things almost immediately, or I can get bogged down in minutiae and whatnot forever, as evidenced by the span of several years that I've been sitting on the four novels I've written). Anyway, it's just a rough sketch right now and I need to make it a bit more graphically interesting than it is at the present moment, but I kind of like it. I'll show you it as it gets closer to completion.

My favorite thing I found this weekend? The Sports Editor of the Philly Inquirer has a blog. He has a blog in which he liveblogged Bonds' visit to Philly this past weekend, absolutely shredding everyone's least favorite juicer. Here's game one (start at the bottom and work your way up), game two, and game three. It's worth noting that the guy, in true Philly phasion (don't worry, I'll hit myself with something blunt and heavy as punishment for that one), also rips on the local. My favorite? This entry, in which

Pat the Bat strikes again, and swings the Phillies out of a big inning.

Two singles, a hit batsman and a walk has one run in for the Phils, the bases loaded and Jamey Wright on the verge of imploding. Along comes Burrell, and doesn't he swing at the first pitch he sees?

Bang ... 5-4-3 DP.

You can't teach that, you know.

Hi-larious.

Anyway, that's all I've got for the moment. Seriously, get to Pratt tonight.

bullfrog

dude, myspace?

Yeah, I know. Feel free to beat me to death with a rusty hammer next time you see me.

Actually, make it a rusty shovel. That ought to take longer and hurt more.

i'm going to pratt!

You know... I have a myspace, and I have to say - I don't really see the animosity towards it, but I don't really see the appeal, either. It's just some dumb site for pictures and music. How on earth did it become such a national obsession?

I think it's the music aspect that gets people - that band the Arctic Monkeys basically manufactured themselves into gold-selling artists solely by using MySpace well.

My animosity towards it comes almost entirely from the tiled .gif backgrounds it allows morans to throw up in the background. Not to sound like a brownshirt, but allowing people to lay things out in any way they seem fit without results in shit like this:

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseactio n=user.viewprofile&friendid=15547515

which is an abomination and should be stricken from the web.

Seriously, save that guy from himself, if you ever really cared. It's friggin' raining skulls on him!

i agree with jeremiah. design skills are seriously lacking.

there's also a narcissism thing that bugs me.

What, Grafe, you don't want to know my mood when I write these things?

You (bullfrog, 5$), have nothing to do with my problem with myspace. However, most myspace sites tend to be a shrine to themselves and serve no other purpose.

5$ is substantive like oatmeal. Myspace is substantive like pop rocks.

Yes, I called you oatmeal.

Didn't mean to imply that I thought you thought I was.. Well, shoot, that got complicated. I was mainly mocking the incredibly in-depth mood-o-meter that MySpace seems to afford its clientele - I could choose from, I'm ballparking, maybe about 250 moods to attach to my 'blog entry.'

But, yeah, I get the shrine-to-thineself aspect, too, and tried to avoid it.

I am honored to be oatmeal.

With raisins.