Banal Hemorrhage

When I thought of this comic, I thought this song was created and performed by a Michael Bolton type. In a petty predictable turn of events, the original creator and composer was an African American.  And his version is perfect from the get go. 

When I was doing research on lizard-men, this picture of a human performance artist always came up. He lives in Austin. In one of those late night deep dives I went to his webpage and discovered two things. One, he’s a Philosophy graduate. Two, if I would’ve had to guess what his major was, I would have guessed Philosophy.  Thelizardman.com At one point in my life, I would have scoffed at this guy. ‘What a waste of a life’ I would’ve said, while sitting in my recliner watching superhero movies and being super basic. As I’ve grown, him and others like him are what makes life interesting. You think you’ve met all possible combinations of bipedal, primate prancers, and then this guy slinks by; making you change the size and shape of all your conceptual containers.  It’s a wonderful life if you’re willing to let it be.  He seems like a cool guy but I decided to go with a less earthly version. A combination of aliens and dinosaurs was my final design note, hastily written on ...

One of these languishing months I set myself down in bed fully awake. Anxious and worried about everything, my mind was in quick despair.  Doomscrolling was part of this process. In between these hazardous thoughts, the idea for this comic series was sprung.  So, enjoy the fruits of my warped brain, and let me know in the comments if you like this! I have character arcs and many episodes lined up already from that one feverish night.  

I'm not what most humans between the age of 18-75 would call "handy." Sure, I've fixed my dishwasher and my laundry washer a few times; but only because I really, really need those things to work. And I muttered ‘righty, tighty lefty, loosy’ the whole time. And there's always extra pieces when I'm done, which I contribute to the special drawer we all have but don't talk about. I have severe drill anxiety (Freud just raised a very judgmental spectral eyebrow). I mean, if you somehow screw up the location of your drilling, those holes aren't going to un-drill themselves are they? And what do you fill those holes with if you mess it up? Elmer's glue? Coconut Oil? Nobody taught me these things. My dad taught me how to program in Basic and my Mom taught me unconditional love. None of those things prepared me for this whole growing up scam.  I do have to give it up for YouTube though. I'd have negative handiness if it weren't for those how-to vid...

I know. Another comic about our stupid dogs. Well it’s been a little bit over a year since we’ve gotten them so let me obsess about them before we return them to the pound. Just kidding, no pound will ever take these bastards. Conan, the male chihuahua depicted here, is an absolute dick to me. He pees on my shoes, he ignores me if Roxanne is around, bites me if I touch Roxanne in front of him and overall acts like a tiny Danny Trejo bodyguarding his favorite female.  And yet, here I am. On my vacation in Hawaii, drawing him and missing him like hell. Like most con artists, he knows how far he can push me and what to do to get me back. In his case, all he has to do is roll over in his back and look like this. He’s an absolute genius.  (Credit for the Barkbarian pun goes to John, thanks man!) Extra Panel: His sister is my little girl though. Love her to pieces, too. 

Our dogs ain’t right. We love them, they have managed to enrich our lives in new wonderful ways and we would take *tiny* bullets for them. However…  If there’s peace to be disrupted, they’ll be there. They start their walks with excited barking, which grow into curious barking and evolve into a zen-like frolicky barking. They bark at other dogs, pedestrians, bicycles, squirrels, things that look like squirrels, and their own barks.  They posture and tense their leashes with murder in their eyes. We found out that if we unleash them, their bravado goes from 11 to 1. So at least we now know they’re only acting as annoying, aggressive assholes. “Just an act” we tell our neighbors, which doesn’t seem to help any. I know we are those people now. I’ve never been those people before.  The only thing they do better than publicly shaming us is their snuggling. These are world class snugglers. Like thousands-of-years-of-developing-physical-bonds-as-a-survival-instinct world class...

When I lived in Venezuela, we used to say that United States citizens “Lived to Work instead of Working to Live.” After almost 20 years here in the USA, that stereotype rings true; specially for boomers. Labor is Jesus for so many of the people in this country. It seems that no matter if your job is actually saving people in the emergency room  or selling subscriptions for the National Enquirer, people in the United States give their all to their job. They spend their earnings on pools they don’t have time to swim in and call it good with a one week curated vacation a year. It’s always resorts and cruises with these folks, a formulaic approach to life. Hard work plus cruise = live, laugh, love. For the last few months I’ve been running a COVID vaccine clinic. 11 hours a day 5 days a week, with the occasional weekend. This is the main reason why I haven’t been able to draw and write. It’s the most I’ve ever worked in my life for such as sustained time. It’s easy, though, when you be...

Greetings, readers! It is 2021. We have evicted the worst tenant of the White House, we are vaccinating millions of people a week and everything is getting better! Except me. I’m still a lousy husband.  I’ve been a bit worse, since I’ve been working on a vaccination clinic in my town. It’s the hardest, most stressful task I’ve ever done. And I can’t have enough of it. Unlike many of my previous roles, what I am accomplishing is immediately observable: Shots in Arms. It’s way better than my typical reward of “someone may eventually use this knowledge to on occasion do something potentially useful.”  This makes me understand doctors and nurses a bit more. It’s hard to not be a workaholic when what you do is help people stay healthy. It also makes me understand burnout more. I’ve worked 3 weeks with two and a half days off. And I’m itching to go back tomorrow. This is unsustainable, and it will change soon, but I can see why it’s hard to stop. As for my marriage, it will be fine....

Bathrooms are the Water Temple of social anxiety. That’s a Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time (1998) reference and trust me it’s very, very funny. On point though, public bathrooms, locker rooms, and other  loci of excreta have always been challenging locations when my social anxiety is at its highest. I don’t want to learn about others in these quarters, I feel no need to reach out to anything but my self. One time, as a new employee, I went to the bathroom adjacent to where I was being onboarded. The CEO came bounding in, loudly announcing himself and patting other urinators on the back. He then proceeded to let go of his liquid waste hands-free while holding a power pose and whistling. It dawned on me that that’s probably why he was the CEO. He had conquered the bathroom. Surely the people who hired him could tell this is a person who can pee while loudly talking about the weather! “He’s going places”, they must've said to themselves!  Extra panel:  Listen, I know it...

I have often been scolded for recycling sweet nothings on others. And yet, I have the slimmest of hopes that I’m not alone here. A hope that maybe there’s other male idiots (even female idiots!) out there who make this vapid generalization error. And we can laugh together. Otherwise this comic will simply hammer down the fact that I’m a subhuman absent-minded foolboy. Of course there is only one true love in my life! But there’s so many cute things things around me that it’s hard to reserve terms. All I can say is that my wife is the only cute Roxanne that I have in my periphery, so I’ll never use her sweet nothings on another Roxanne! This I can almost swear. Rox: I love you mi bebecita linda! Extra Panel: So, the elephant in the room is a PS5 (get it? because it’s large). The reason I haven’t been drawing as frequently as before is not anxiety. It’s not increased booze intake. Sure, both of those things are around, but the main culprit is that I am loving my time with my PS5. I playe...

Things have been... weird. We finally beat the worst president we’ve ever had. He’s out. More than 80 million people hate him. His autocratic style was transparent and against what the United States stands for, regardless of if you are a Democrat or a Republican. A weight is lifted for immigrants, LGBQT, liberals and the environment. And yet... tens of millions of people voted for him. Many have moved on since, but at least half (the same half that put credence to Q Anon) believe that the election was systematically rigged and that it will be turned back to Trump. Let me be clear, these people are idiots or monsters. These are the worst of our society. People keep telling me that many of them are ignorant, as if that excuses their dangerous wants. At this point what they want, based on slim evidence, is to overthrow the election in swing states. They want to have the legislatures (many Republican due to gerrymandering) elect their own electors.  The gulf between what they want and ...

Public policies work. They have always worked. The number of adult smokers has plummeted since restrictions were put in place . Many of us are too dumb to realize how good this is for us and society in general. I was definitely (and likely still am) one of the dumb ones. A snowflake if you will, like a Republican refusing to accept the 2020 election.  “But what about my rights?”, I voiced to no one in particular when indoor smoking was banned. Why would it be their business what I did with my body? Well it turns out there’s many reasons why.  First of all, these decisions rarely affect just one person. My smoking caused second had smoke, litter and probably a litany of regrets when waking up next to my stinky pack-a-day ass.  Second of all, we are not great at seeing 20 years down the line. Public policy tries to bridge that gap. I may not care that I will be a wheezing, smoke-spewing, leathery sack of crap when I’m 70, but the healthcare system sure will. Lastly & ul...

Time is a flat circle. It's dizzying how things come back at you, like that nasty rash in your nether-regions. Speaking of rashes, let's speak about mothers. My mother and I can irritate each other every once in awhile. I say this with full candor, but armed with the certainty that this happens to all relationships. Specially to the earliest relationship you've ever had. For example, I get irritated at her continuous concern for my wellbeing; she gets irritated at my manic driving down the wrong lane while swerving to the music. It's maddening. And yet, I am a huge momma’s boy. In another dimension that may be an insult, but if you ever met my mom, you’d probably understand. She is intelligence, humor, courage, humility all rolled into one. I’ve spoken at length about it .  I know not everyone had a role model of a mother, and I understand that. For those people I hope that they find someone who loves them unconditionally. We all deserve that, an ardent, blistering, con...

This year has been rough. I’m not going to list the ways it has been awful for most of us. Okay, I will, because I love lists: Fires, RBG, COVID, unemployment, stress, Trump, police killings, tabloids, lost children, friends lost in cults, being home-bound, finding out Kirstie Alley is a gender-bent James Woods. The George Floyd killing was one of the terrible things that happened, no mistaking that. However, this year, more than any other year, I found increased support for BLM. More people seem to have bought-in to the fact that Black Americans are being policed, prosecuted and punished more severely than their white counterparts. I was pleasantly surprised at some of the support this idea found, in the year of despair 2020.  Let’s talk about Republicans, though. Only about 16% of white Republicans support BLM in some way. Compare that to 88% of white Democrats. I just don’t get the Republican philosophy. Imagine being a Republican your whole life. Over the past 4 years, you hav...

One of the biggest issues that I brought into this marriage was a broken belief system. It went something like this: “She married me with all my flaws and issues, so therefore I am all good to go as long as death do us part.” I even made sure she knew exactly how flawed I was before getting married. She survived the gauntlet that I crafted for her, mostly me just being a little too much me.  No one was as surprised as me that she went through with the wedding. My wife adopts a growth mindset to marriage. She sees marriage as an opportunity to change and improve each other. And you know what? Like with everything, except in the pronunciation of “jewelry” and “realtor,” she is absolutely right.  No other force in this planet has made me want to change as much as this pale yooper*. Back in Venezuela I was known to finish every argument with “I am what I am.” Long gone are those times. Since being graced by her companionship, I’ve volunteered, learned to draw, exercised, reached ...

This month has been difficult for my psyche. I’m not alone, I know, so I won’t dwell on it. It has been hard to stay alert and continue drawing silly things with all the doom scrolling units left to complete. When this happens it is counterintuitive, because drawing is one of the few ways I can find relaxation these days So for the time being, here’s a collection of a few doodles I’ve been able to finish during my few awake and free hours.

This is what I came up with for comictober’s prompt of  “Twist.” I don’t know why, but I’ve always loved Bill Murray’s urban myths. There’s always stories of him showing up at people’s parties, trolling strangers and generally being a cool human being. It’s one of the few celebrity stories that interest me.  As an extra panel, I’ll give you the other comictober drawings I’ve made up. October in the United States is drama-dense as it is already; so I don’t know if I will be able to continue making ‘near’ daily drawings, but it was great fun.  Here’s for the prompt: werewolf Here’s for the prompt: seasonal Here’s for the prompt: black cat

Besides falling leaves, our dogs are afraid of: Their shadows Doors Stairs Petting Toys Raindrops Leashes Things that our dogs are not afraid of: Huge dogs Feral cats Burly men in the shadows Cars barreling towards them Obviously we have our work cut out for us. These guys are the least befitting of donning the crown of evolution out of any other dog I’ve ever met. Admittedly, in just five months they have burrowed so deep in our lives that I have no doubt we would take a bullet for them. So maybe that’s how they evolved.  They transform whoever adopts them into soft, malleable, unrecognizable pieces of putty. Extra Panel: This is what I imagine when I hear about dog therapists. Here’s an extra: A video of Conan who, we are convinced, learned to dog by watching YouTube tutorials. 

Well, by now most of you know the drill. Information has changed and we are all a bit screwed because of it. Our choices change our news in ways that have never happened before. The news are bottled up and served as a product to people. You are drinking Coke and your neighbor is drinking Mr. Pibb; a bizarre, dubious and objectively wrong choice. I know I can't claim to be right, I mostly jest. I am extremely biased when it comes to immigration, women's choice and LGBQT rights. I will favor those over stock market increases and regulation reductions, even though I am an avid stock market investor. I click on articles that show how immigrants are less prone to commit crimes, while my neighbor may click on articles talking about the hive of scum and villainy that files up to ask for asylum. Just like rashes, the amount of biased news you get grows the more you pick them. If you still are not clear how this works, there's an accessible documentary on Netflix: The Social Dilemma...

Have I been nauseating enough about our Coronapups? I’m gonna go with no.  We’ve had our  dobergoblins  (Conan and Xena) for the last four months and all I can say is that they’ve changed us. Roxanne and I look at each other and wince at what we have become.   There’s not an hour of the day in which these dogs aren’t an extension of our bodies. Furry, needy, whiny extensions. And what do we do with this dependent behavior? We encourage the hell out of it. Over the last month we’ve done incredibly disgusting things like:  Bought them little tiny sweaters  Put them in pouches attached to our sweaters Smuggled them into restaurants Handcrafted some masks for them Hiked with them on our backpack Only one of those is a lie. We are so screwed. Extra Panel:  They are our world. 

The inescapable irony of this is that I do the same thing. I make many of you read through my oodles of disparate, manic, poorly construed sentences to get to the mostly anticlimactic event of the “extra panel”. I’m well aware of this human tendency to bloviate once they get handed a microphone. If life was fair, you’d be hearing the Oscar music right now prompting me to shut up.  I was depressed last week. (This is the quality humor content you get when you subscribe to my blog!). I’m okay as of the writing of this post.  I just came from a heavenly vacation with my wife and I feel much better. I-drank-a-bottle-of-champagne-floating-in-a-lake levels of better. The thing that triggered this latest depression is heavy, noisy and grotesque. I’m talking, of course, of Trump. If you're a supporter, please skip ahead, I know you have a knack for selective blindness. I was affected by his post-GOP-convention bump and how his supporters seem to not understand why I am distraught by T...

Empathy towards strangers is learnable. So why are some of us so uneducated?   I'm not always empathetic towards strangers. During the Paris terrorist attack I wondered why Muslims weren’t decrying this heinous attack. Spoiler alert: They WERE decrying it (I was just too angry to see it) and they didn’t have to. You don’t expect Christians to apologize for every insane Christian. They'd spend every Sunday apologizing half the time.  My mind changed after a single act: meeting Muslim people. We helped a family from Syria as they were welcomed in our community. The “them” became “us.” Their amazing cooking skills and easy laughter will always stay with me. How do we get this to happen to people? There's value in learning that we are all extremely similar. We all worry about COVID, we all want to protect our own, we all occasionally leave skid marks in our underwear and never really talk about it. I’m the most introverted person I know, and I still have been able to meet Jew...

Every relationship is fake and I don’t know why, because the truth is funnier. Even I, lover of vulnerability and all things taboo, don’t post about our weekend-destroying arguments about sponges. Oh wait, perhaps I do sometimes. Am I being a cynical doo-doo head? Yes, of course. But I’m also speaking from experience. Walk back a divorce in modern times. Go back through the public postings and you'll find yourself going from "That wretched witch took all my money" to "Enjoying the sunset with my booboo" in a few swipes. Where’s the in between? How did it get from point A to point B so quickly? String Theory? More like creative editing. I find this a bit peculiar, but it actually makes things more understandable to me. That family you see always dancing in perfection, whereas it be in movies, books or your social feed... it’s about as real as farmed salmon is pink . Like a red herring, its image is set to distract. In the same way a jellyfish is not a real fish, ...