I Choose To Blame Ninjas

As some of you may have noticed, I did not blog for most of the week due to illness. I am feeling much better now, thanks in part to all the people who sent me ‘get well soon’ messages. Or rather, to the person who sent me a ‘get well soon’ message (thanks, Mom). Though, technically, she did send it to ‘Susan’ so it may not have actually been for me.

Now, to the casual onlooker who happened to be spying on me via hi-tech equipment, it may have seemed that I merely had a good case of food poisoning. The lack of fever and copious quantities of ‘material’ that came out of me would seem to suggest that. However, where did the food poisoning come from?

I choose to blame ninjas. I did not eat anywhere new or unusual in the days preceding the attack, so I am forced to assume that the poisoning was deliberate. I have long waged war against the various ninja clans and this would not be their first attempt to destroy me (I refer specifically to the ‘Hangnail of ‘03’ and the ‘Flat-Tire of ’99 and ’00’ respectively).

So, be on your guard, ninjas, for your plot has only redoubled my determination to rid the world of your black pajama’d legions! Just don’t hit me in the stomach right now. Trust me, everyone would regret it.

Cheers,
-Jason

Jason is under the weather.

Hello folks! Jason is feeling under the weather at the moment, so he will not be gracing us with his normal razor sharp wit today, since he’s not honestly all that witty while he’s sleeping. Hopefully he’ll be feeling better soon and writing his stubby fingers to the bone.

-Leigh

Watchman!

Leigh sent me this the other day. There have been other Watchman trailers, but this one is almost three minutes long and has some great footage I hadn't seen before.

I must admit I'm getting excited about this movie. The Watchman was one of the books that got me into comics (along with The Dark Knight and the Elementals), so seeing it come to life is just a 'wow' moment.



Enjoy!

Cheers,
-Jason

Please Ignore the Following

Things are hopping around here at Wayfarer's Moon. Our minions are almost finished tunneling into the center of the earth and the nuclear torpedo is already in position. All we need to do now is tap in the UN . . . oh, yeah.

Please disregard the previous paragraph. We are in no way thinking of or attempting to hold the world hostage by blowing up the center of the earth. Really. That would be silly, I mean, we live here too. It's not like we have a secret moon base full of supermodels to retreat to.

. . .

Once again, please disregard the preceding paragraphs.

We are, however, getting ready for Wizard World Texas! Yep, in about two weeks, Leigh and I will be in sunny (I hope) Arlington for three days of comic goodness.

This will probably be our last con this year, so unless you want to invite us to your house, it'll be '09 before we're allowed out in public again(keeping our fingers crossed to get into the San Diego Comic Con).

Look for an update on Tuesday and the usual blogging for the rest of the week.

Cheers,
-Jason

ZOMBIES!

If you’re a WoW player, go now and become a zombie. I played it for all of 20 minutes today and had an absolute blast!

Here’s how it works: You get infected by a zombie and eventually die. You are then raised as a zombie and can infect others. You get a whole new tool bar of zombie related powers and anyone you infect will become a zombie as well.

You get to Mangle, a slow attack that makes people turn into zombies faster; Retch, a ranged attack to slow people down (‘cause you’re a traditional, slow zombie); and Beckoning Groan, which is used to call NPC zombies to your side. There are a couple others that I haven’t played with, but I’m sure they’re just as fun as the others.

This is amazing amounts of fun. It’s probably the cleverest holiday event ever done, so kudos to the Dev Team for coming up with and implementing it so well.

I know what I’m going to be doing with my Friday night . . .

Brains!
-Jason

Random Thought #212

What happens if Iron Man sneezes?

I happened to be watching some Cartoon Network (The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy) and they advertised an Iron Man figure with removable helmet. It then occurred to me that sneezing with the helmet on might be bad. Not only would it mess up your view screen, but it might also fire a missile. That would be bad if you hit a town or something, probably worse if you hit Thor or the Hulk.

By that measure, having a runny nose wouldn’t be quite as bad, as you probably wouldn’t accidentally kill anyone.

An itch would be just as bad, though in a completely different way. Then again, Tony Stark is a genius, so he probably installed some sort of auto-itching, viewport wiping system.

What if, dare I say it, you really, really had to, y’know, go?

Some things are probably best not thought about.

Cheers,
-Jason

For Best Results: Smite!

Whilst brushing my teeth the other day (something I do once a week even if I don’t need it) I happened across the directions on the back.

NOTE: Sorry, that was ‘ewww’ even for me. I do brush my teeth twice a day. Honestly. And floss. And use mouthwash. It’s showering I do once a week.

Anyway, I noticed a sentence in big red letters at the bottom of the directions. ‘For best results, squeeze the tube from the bottom and flatten as you go up.’

I wondered as I stood there, clad in my Spiderman Underoos, my teeth gleaming from my vigorous and dare I say, manly, brushing, ‘how else do you get the toothpaste out?’

Obviously there was a reason they included this in the directions. The marketers didn’t just look at the tube and say ‘Huh, this isn’t clear enough. Let’s add text!’ I’m honestly curious as to what people must have been doing to get the toothpaste out that the manufacturer felt it necessary to add a hint.

Did they discover that the average user was smashing the tube with a hammer and collecting the paste off the wall? Mayhap was a chainsaw being employed to tear the tube asunder, so the minty goodness inside could be reached? Was radiation involved? Gamma rays? A Rube Goldberg-ian contraption that involved a stuffed shark, three penguin feet, an eye patch and the bones of an Australopithecus?

NOTE: I am particularly pleased with myself as I spelled ‘Australopithecus’ correctly on the first try. Honest.

Granted, the directions may have been left over from the 1920’s, when toothpaste in a tube was ‘new’ and flappers were doing the Lindy Hop and things smelt of turnips, but still, how hard is it? They didn’t bother to inform the consumer to remove the cap and that seems to be the tricky part. They had faith, it seemed, that the cap would be removed, yet the user would then be unable to squeeze the tube.

It’s weird. Puzzling even.

Cheers,
-Jason

Kiwi

Well, it's Tuesday, which means a video!

I can't recall how I ran across this, but I thought it was a lot of fun. It kind of reminded me of 'A Wish For Wings That Work,' so of course I had to post it.



I like to think he flew forever . . .

Cheers,
-Jason

The 19th!

Hey, it's the 19th! You all know what that means!

Ummmm, actually, I have no idea what that means. I'm sure something happened on the 19th, but I don't know what. Some of you, perhaps, had birthdays (Happy B-Day!). Other than that, no clue.

Anyhow, Halloween is fast approaching. I have almost all of my costume assembled, now all I need is the left-hand of a enologist. Seriously. If anyone happens to have most of an enologist around, drop me a line. I'll even take a vintner . . .

Hah! Had you going. I'm going to be an extinct mollusk.

But, if there's a enologist or vinter on hand that you just need to get rid of, I'll totally pay for the shipping.

Look for an update tomorrow and the usual blogging later on in the week!

Cheers,
-Jason

The Adventures of Leigh and Jason: Part 3

Jason whipped of his glasses as his eyes adjusted to the dark store, and then put them back on because they were prescription. “What’s up?”

“Guy got robbed,” Leigh said absently, without looking up from his pad.

“Huh.” Jason looked around. He nudged an overturned rack with his toe and it made a ‘moo’ sound. “Got everything but the air freshener and the Mounds, eh?”

“Yes,” said the owner. “Your friend is doing a sketch, but I don’t think we need a writer.”

Jason shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

A team of mice moved across the floor. They were dragging a trebuchet. No one noticed.

“Y’know said Leigh. “He’s been doing kung-fu for forever. He could probably beat the snot out of them.”

“Really?” said the owner. “Maybe you could help me out after the sketch is done?”

“Depends,” said Jason. “Are they ninjas?”

The owner considered this. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I only really fight ninjas.” Jason explained. “I get +3 against ‘em. They’re my ‘preferred enemy.’”

“Why?”

“A ninja pantsed him in high school,” Leigh chimed in.

Jason turned to his friend. “Must you tell everyone?”

Leigh nodded. “I must.” He rose and held out his pad. “Sketch’s done.”

The owner took and looked down. Then looked up again. And then looked down. After a few more volleys, he cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to complain, but this is a picture of a scantily clad woman-“

“Efl,” Leigh interrupted.

“Elf,” continued the owner. “With a spear.”

“I started on your description, but it was boring so I did the elf instead.”

Jason leaned over to get a look at the pad. “Nice.”

“Thanks.”

“Ummm, thanks?” said the owner.

“No thanks are necessary,” said Leigh, mainly so he could say 'thanks' too.

“We’re nerds,” added Jason. “It’s what we do.”

The duo waited for a moment, glancing around at the wrecked convenience store. “So,” said Leigh finally. “Could we get twenty on pump #2?” He held out a bill.

The owner took it without a word and punched something into the pad. “All set.”

A few minutes later, the silver Honda pulled out of the convenience store. The banjo continued its mournful song, until the Honda was out of sight.

Cheers,
-Jason

The Adventures of Leigh and Jason: Part 2

The man at the counter looked up from where he was cleaning up the glass from his smashed counter. “Are you here about the robbery?”

“Robbery?”

“Yeah.” The proprietor gestured at his store. Most of the racks were knocked over and the various goods had been swept from the shelves. Only a lone, pine-scented car freshener remained, impotent in its ‘stay fresh’ pouch, a box of Almond Joys. “We were hit about an hour ago. They took everything!”

“Except the pine-scented car freshener and the Almond Joys.”

“Uh, yeah," said the owner, "he said they were allergic.” He turned to dump a pan full of broken glass into the nearby trashcan. “So, are you here to help?”

Leigh paused, scratching at his ear with a car key he kept on hand for that very purpose. “I suppose I could do a sketch.”

“Well, that would help identify them,” said the owner.

“I’ll get my pad,” said Leigh. He returned 83-seconds later, settled onto a stool and took his pencil in hand. “Go ahead.”

“The first one was about 6 feet, with long blond hair and the second one was a bit shorter and had short, dark hair. They were wearing jeans, plaid shirts and baseball caps. Oh, and the blond one had a giant Johnny Cash tattoo on his back and the shorter one seemed very knowledgeable about the Monroe Doctrine."

Leigh raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “This’ll take a minute.” He bent over his sketch pad and aside from the occasional scream from out back, the store was silent.

“Are we getting gas or what?” came a new voice. Both Leigh and the owner looked up, to see a new figure in the doorway. He was wearing a Nike hoodie, with bits of toilet paper stuck to his freshly shaved face. “Oh, wait,” he said. He struck a pose, arms akimbo. “Jason Janicki,” he said. “Writer.”

Tomorrow: Part 3

The Adventures of Leigh and Jason: Part 1

A silver Honda headed south down the highway, the sun gleaming off the bits that weren’t covered in dust and grime. A bullet-riddled sign appeared, proclaiming ‘Gas – Food – Mimes – 5 miles.’ The silver Honda sped onward.

A small gas station/convenience store appeared on the horizon, dominated by a giant, neon turtle smoking a cigar. The silver Honda slowed and took the exit, barely missing a duck, and then drove up to the convenience store and stopped beside a pump.

The doors opened and in the distance, a lone banjo suddenly began plucking a mournful tune that sounded like ‘Shave and a Haircut.’ It was joined a few seconds later by a harmonica. The banjo music abruptly stopped, there was a gunshot, and the harmonica fell silent. The banjo began to play once again.

The doors opened and a pair of hiking boots descended from the passenger side, while a pair of engineer’s boots exited from the driver’s seat. A pair of stiletto heels did not exit from the trunk, though that would have been cool. The driver, a man of medium height with a thick beard and glasses walked to the entrance of the convenience store, ignoring the door that was lying on the ground beside it. He paused in the doorway, framed in the light of the noonday sun. “Leigh Kellogg,” he said. “Artist.”

Tomorrow: Part 2

Darth Vader in Love

This was sent to me by a good friend who shall remain nameless (Sean).

I may be mistaken, but this might be the same Peter Serafinowicz from Spaced and Sean of the Dead. Anyway, enjoy!



Cheers,
-Jason

Tri-Cities Wrap-Up

Well, both Leigh and I survived the Tri-Cities con. It was, all things considered, pretty good. This was the first year, so it was a little small, but the staff was exceptionally nice and really went out of their way to make us feel welcome. There was even a party afterwards, but Leigh and I had to miss it due to Leigh having relatives in town.

We did eat dinner with Jason Metcalf and his lovely wife, Laura and Randy 'Rantz' Kintz. Both Jason and Randy are great artists, as well as nice guys, and I urge you to click on their links to see their work. We had a nice dinner and discussed many, many con and art related things.

However, the con was not all fun and games. I did learn something. I am, surprisingly, not as young as I used to be. You see, I got up at 4:30 for the three-hour drive and didn't get home 'til about midnight. I was up for about 20-hours and holy crap was I tired. Back in my twenties, I could have done that with no problem, but now, in my (cough) thirties, my butt was thoroughly kicked.

Look for an update on Tuesday and more blogs throughout the week.

Cheers,
-Jason

Con!

Just a gentle reminder, Leigh and I will be at the Tri-Cities Comic Con Saturday. Please come on by if you happen to be in the area. Or in the continental United States. Every one else is excused.

Leigh will be doing sketches and I will be handing out bookmarks to everyone that comes by. They are rather lovely, if I do say so myself, and everyone needs bookmarks.

They go rather well with the comics we will be selling.

Have a great weekend!

Cheers,
-Jason

A Question of the Ages

I have another question for you, my three loyal readers (and that one guy who keeps sending me pictures of his feet). It is a question that has plagued me for many, many years and is the source of great friction amongst my friends and me.

The question is – ready for it – is it weird to eat cereal without milk?

I don’t. Rather, I don’t eat my cereal with milk. I eat it dry. Plain, even. I do like milk, but just separately. Frankly, the thought of putting milk on my cereal is just ‘ewww.’ I have literally done this my entire life. I once went on a camping trip when I was 4 or 5 and was sitting down to a nice bowl of Cheerios when the father of the family we went with decided to ‘help’ me out by pouring a bunch of milk on my cereal. At the time, I wasn’t quite capable of properly expressing myself concerning the situation, but if he did it today I would probably call him a ‘bastard.’

Actually, I wouldn’t. He was a very nice man. I would probably just push him in the lake later.

Anyhow, all my friends think this is weird. Leigh teases me about it with a certain frequency. I’ve only met ONE other person my whole life who did this.

So, is this weird? And do any of you out there in reader land do this as well?

NOTE: If there are enough of us we could form a support group. Or a PAC. Or some sort of sports team (we could call ourselves the Dry Demons or something).

Cheers,
-Jason

The Moon is Chewy!

Whilst watching television this past weekend, I happened to see a commercial for some new memory enhancing drug. The commercial basically starts with ‘People in Iceland lead longer, healthier lives’ and then the announcer goes on to talk about memory loss.

However, although he repeats the bit about people in Iceland several times, he never actually says they use the product (who's name escapes me). He’s basically saying ‘People in Iceland are healthier! We have this product!’ without establishing a link between the two.

Obviously, they’re trying to imply a link, but the legal department won’t actually let them come out and say there was a link, as someone might actually check that. So they just sort of ‘infer’ a link.

So, what you end up with is two completely separate statements. He could literally have said anything in the first part. The commercial could very well have gone ‘The moon is chewy! Buy our product!’

With that in mind, here are a few suggestions for alternate phrases to start the commercial with:

1. It’s not easy being green!
2. Pelvis!
3. It hurts when I pee!
4. Duckbill Platypuses are mammals!
5. Water is wet!
6. I’m allergic to pain!
7. Je regrete rien!
8. Where are my keys?
9. Hey! That does not belong in your nose, Mister!
10. You are getting sleepy!

Cheers,
-Jason

Physics!

Here is a really funny series I came across which discusses the physics of comic-books. It appears to be the highlights of a longer talk, but it's really great nonetheless.

The speaker has a great sense of humor and seems to really enjoy comics as much as physics.

Enjoy!







Cheers,
-Jason

Tri-Cities

Next Saturday, Leigh and I will be attending the Tri-Cities Comic Con! Presumably, Leigh will be sketching all day and I will be waiting in vain for someone to ask for a sentence.

We will, of course, be overjoyed to chat with anyone who happens to come by, so if you happen to be in the area and can make it, come on by! We'll be the two nerds at the table full of comic books.

On a further note, it was pointed out to me that you can actually Follow a blog now. There's a little blue button at the bottom left hand corner that says 'Follow' (oddly enough). You click that, select the Single Edge Studios Blog, hit 'Okay' and magic happens. You will then be notified whenever the blog is updated.

Feel free to Follow my blog. Really.

Stay tuned for a new page Tuesday and the usual bloggy goodness the rest of the week.

Cheers,
-Jason

‘Cause They’ll Eat Your Liver

I happened to be reminded of the phrase ‘and don’t let the bed-bugs bite’ today. It brought back fond childhood memories of my dad saying that when he tucked me in. Of course, he used to add ‘’cause they’ll eat your liver’ on the end.

And my mother wonders why I’m an insomniac who keeps a machete by the bed.

Now, in all seriousness, when I was a kid I was both terrified of and fascinated with bed bugs. I had this idea that they were these huge Great Dane-sized monstrosities that were quite capable of severing your leg and then running away with it, presumably to eat it in the darkness with ketchup.

I figured they were called bed-bugs because they would attack when they thought you were asleep, suggesting a malevolent intelligence as well. I really, really wanted to see one and if possible, make friends with it. Oh, the adventures we would have had, romping around the countryside, scaring the cattle and devouring large quantities of Captain Crunch.

Of course, I was a pragmatic child and thus I always kept a blue plastic bat near my bed just in case the bed bugs turned out to be mean. It is not a well known fact, but there are few forces in the universe capable of withstanding a determined five-year-old with a blue plastic bat.

NOTE: On one occasion I actually defeated both my older brothers with it. I still have it, in fact.

Anyhow, I never did get to see a bed bug and was vaguely disappointed to learn that they were quite small. Still, there’s always the chance that some mad scientist will grow them to the appropriate size and my wish will be fulfilled (and hopefully, humanity won’t be destroyed in the process).

Cheers,
-Jason

Your First Scream of the Day

This morning, after my bike ride, breakfast, ritual chicken-sacrifice, and shower, I decided to go ahead and shave.

I lathered up, mowed my face (more or less), and then splashed on a palm-full of aftershave. A few minutes later, after I finished running in a circle and screaming, I returned to the mirror to brush my hair and put the cap back on the aftershave.

It was then that I wondered: Why the hell do I do this? Shaving is painful enough, but why do I then insist on slathering blue alcohol on scraped and bleeding skin?

Well, in all honesty, it’s ‘cause my dad told me to. I remember well the day he taught me to shave, shortly after my sixth birthday. He handed me a can of Barbasol, a razor, and a bottle of Aqua Velva and said “You’ll figure it out.”

Oddly enough, that was the same thing he said to me when he explained sex.

So, why do we men slap alcohol on our faces after we just scraped it with a really thin piece of metal? I had no idea, so I went to that bastion of modern knowledge: Wikipedia.

Apparently, ‘It is said that the alcohol in the aftershave closes pores in the skin and prevents irritation ("razor burn").[‘

Huh. Well it is also said that if you throw a potato at a full moon, a werewolf loses its bunions. So, yeah. I am deeply suspicious that this is one of those things that is ‘just done.’ There may have been some reason in the past, when razors were large, ungainly things that doubled as chicken de-boners and were often used to fell trees, but I don’t know if it still applies.

Well, I’m going to keep doing it, even though I don’t know why. With my luck, I’ll stop doing it and they’ll discover that aftershave scares off the bed squid and then I’ll wake up with a face full of sucker-marks.

Which, of course, will make shaving even more painful.

Cheers,
-Jason