More Office Speak

In summation...

A couple of things rolling around the old noodle recently:

-Well, I was able to watch the fight this weekend. The planets aligned for me. Sort of.

The fight itself, and the undercard, not so good. The highlight of the undercard was Paulie Malignaggi coming in with a weave in his hair, making him look like a cross between Gary Oldman’s pimp character in True Romance and the Play-dough fun factory hair. The hilarity began about two minutes in when his ponytail came out and he couldn’t see anymore. So between rounds they had to use the scissors they cut the glove tape off with to give him a haircut. So for the rest of the fight he looked like a goof.

The main event did have any hair drama but it did have a very shady ref. At one point, the hometown kid was pretty much out on his feet and the ref stopped the fight so he could tie his shoe. I crap you negative. Boxing has given us some great phrases. “Had his bell rung.” “He’s on dream street.” “Saved by the bell.” But perhaps the best and most common for me to say is “The fix is in.” This was a case of that. Oh yeah, and “Had his dick knocked stiff.” That one cracks me up.

-People like to say, “Oh criminals WANT to get caught.” I’ve never believed that. I think it’s because I’ve always thought most people hate the idea of being forcibly sodomized. Well, that’s what I think of when I think of going to prison. Not the boredom. Not the hard labor. It’s the sodomy. The forcible, forcible sodomy. I DO think criminals (or at least criminal masterminds) want to have all their hard work recognized and get their kudos, but not forcibly sodomized. I’m not saying there aren’t criminals or normal people who are into sodomy, I just think it’s the forcible part, or using chicken grease as lube.

Anyway, I digress. I totally almost got busted goofing off at work in the most horrible way. I’ve been working on a spreadsheet for sometime now, filling it in as I can. Well, reviewing my work the other day (mostly by accident), I noticed the phrase “Hey Dave, you remember a couple of months ago when your god did something awesome or something, etc.” Ring a bell? Well, it should. It was a copy of text from my comic strip that had somehow found its way into my spreadsheet. Not sure how it happened but there it was, on my long ass spreadsheet, plain as day. I can’t tell you what I would have done to explain this little snafu had I actually turned in the spreadsheet. It actually frightens me to think about it. So needless to say, I did NOT wish to get caught but my own cockiness almost got me cold busted. Sure I wouldn’t have gone to prison, but trying to explain to the wife how I got fired because I accidently pasted a line form my comic strip into my work would be a little difficult.

-Holy crap, I’m so into this story.

Anyone know who MF Doom is? He’s a rapper. He wears a mask. He used to be in a group called KMD (you may have heard his verse on the 3rd Bass song ‘Gas face’ back in the day). Anywho, his rapper personae is based on the comic book character villain Dr Doom. His ‘origin’ is based largely on the villain’s origin. Well, he’s taken the similarity to a new high as he has started sending imposters of himself around the country to play shows (wearing the mask, of course). They apparently badly lip-sync his songs then steal the venue’s money and leave.

He played at MJQ not too long ago and did the same thing. The audience was pissed and so was the promoter when the MF Doom-bot badly lip-synced and then ran with the $$$$. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not condoning thievery (see above, SODOMY, ‘nuff said) but I think this is hilarious and brilliant. I would have been pissed to pay $30 to watch this all go down, but man, that’s just good drama. So MF Doom, if you’re chilling at you castle in Latveria, kudos to you on a clever job well done. Maybe I should dress up as MF Fantastic and challenge him to a battle.

High on Life

This weekend in boxing...

Big fight this weekend.

Well not a huge fight, but a very interesting fight. I’ll set the stage.

On one side is Juan Lazcano. ‘The Hispanic causing Panic.’ I love this guy’s nickname. Juan’s sort of an underachiever. He’s a darn good fighter but when he’s stepped up to an elite level, he’s fallen a little short. And times running out for him, in my opinion. He’s 37-4, so he can’t take any more loses really, or else he’ll fall out of contention. So, to not overstate it, his back is against the wall. Maybe he’s ‘the Hispanic in a Panic.’

On the other side is Ricky Hatton. ‘The Hitman.’ It’s always bothered me he calls himself ‘the Hitman’ (hey, to me, that’s Tommy Hearn’s name) but Hatton is pretty great, personality-wise. He’s a limey, he drinks, he loves his family, the pub, and fried foods. And he loves fighting. So, sufficed to say, I like him. And the Brits ADORE him. They sing through his fights. No kidding. They have songs they sing about him. “Walking in a Hatton Wonderland” for instance. His fighting style leaves a bit to be desired. He’s rough on his opponent, usually clinching and jostling them around and gradually beating them into submission, which can be a little boring as he’ll punch and clinch, but when he gets someone in trouble, he hooks to the body and they are brutal.

Hatton is coming off his first loss. It’s not a bad loss. It was to the #1 lbs-4-lbs fighter in the world. You’ve maybe heard of his opponent. His name is Floyd Mayweather Jr. He was on dancing with the Stars and WWE. The hard part is that Hatton lost by KO, which is a rough way to go out the first time (he’s 43-1 now). Hatton charged, got caught with a hook and then ran himself into the turnbuckle due to his own momentum and the hook. Hatton was very cool after the loss, making jokes and being a good sport, which is rare in boxing. The worrysome part is that Ring magazine was saying he fell into a deep depression and went boozing and running around the world afterwards. Anyway, it makes me worry about his mental state. And he must win too, because he has to show he still has the goods or else people will say he’s ruined. That’s the way boxing works. It’s hard to build a reputation and people write you off after one or two losses.

These fights are always interesting to me, the crossroads fight (as the spinners of boxing clichés like to say). Often, a guy will give up before he gets in the ring when he starts realizing his career maybe over. You can see it everything the do when they walk to the ring, get in the ring, and by the way they fight. I don’t think either of these guys are quitters, but they’ve been through a lot. So the fight could be sad, as one or both of them has hit a wall and aren’t going to get past it and are having a ‘please don’t hurt me and let me retire after this fight’ fight, or it could be an awesome fight as both guys go from broke and try to show they’ve still got it.

The sad part for me is I probably won’t be able to see it. I’ll be out of town and most places don’t have Versus network. So I’ll have to read about it later. But if you’re bored on Saturday night and you have Versus, click over to it, pour some beer on the curb for me, and check and see if these guys are going for broke. If nothing else, listening to 50,000 Brits drunkenly singing is pretty great.

Happy Memorial Day

I can't seem to make the comics a good size so, as per usual, click on it to see it normal sized.

Best,

mmyers

The war is over, God is dead

Well the Cold War is finally over.

What’s that you say? The Cold War has been over (according to Wikipedia) since 1991? No, comrade, no. It has raged like the winters in St. Petersburg (Russia, not the tourist trap), it has been turbulent like going on a bender with vodka (the non-potato kind) and orange juice (the orange kind), it has been barely perceptible like the career of Yakov Smirnoff. It has been all of these things and the capper is: I won.

Yes, that’s right, I won the Cold War.

When I first moved to our fair city, there was a video store right down the road, really close to my apartment. It was filled with a bunch of video tapes of movies long-since out of print. Most stores were getting rid of their videos in favor of DVDs but time had forgotten this little nugget. So when I picked up a bunch of crappy videos to entertain myself, I met the Russian family that owned it. They were nice enough, a little stiff in that eastern European way, but here was the thing: they were still charging $4 per video. This was the year 2000, mind you, and although we weren’t driving around in flying cars or using Buck Roger’s style ‘credits’ to pay for things, these Russians must have thought that VHS tapes had gone retro already, but no, Tovarich, no, they had not. And most places were renting for $1-2 for old movies anyway.

So I put some back. But I like the small business man so I rented a couple and went on my merry way.

Well, when I went to return them, I was caught unawares that they were only ONE DAY RENTALS. Lackluster Video® down the street was charging $2.50 for 3 days but Glasnost Video® was charging $4 for old movies for one day, so mine were two days late. Well, no biggie, thought I, I’ll just pay the charges. However, Ivan Koloff, the Russian Bear, told me that they don’t charge your normal $1-ish late fee, no sir, they charge an additional $4 a day. Using their communistic methods, you didn’t pay until you returned the movies (should have known something was up then), leaving me owing $24 for Brain Candy and Shocker. Well, needless to same I was not a happy camper. They were cool enough to say that I could keep renting there as long as I eventually paid off the balance. And logic like that, my friend, is why they had to wait in line for bread.

I did rent there a couple of more times, paying what was owed on my immediate movie (4 effing dollars) but never touching that other amount (24 large). And when they charged me a late fee for a movie that I brought back at 8 o’clock (“Change in policy. All movie due back at 6 o’clock.”), well the Cold War was on. No more patronage from me, comrade.

For years I drove by that place. Eventually they had a banner that said “5 Movies for $5”. Too late, Ursa Major and Crimson Dynamo, too late. I watched their business go from two spaces down to one. I watched them have sales. Heck, a couple of times they sent us cards asking to come back, from Russia with Love. But no. No dice. You blew it. Now I break YOU!

So last week, I drove by and they were out of business. Score one for American Ingenuity. Or stubbornness. Or cheapness. Whoever you score it for, put me on their side and put the Soviet Super Soldiers on the other.

But, like the Scorpions and Gorky Park, I kind of miss them a little. I guess because I don’t have an enemy any longer. In that spirit, I recount one of my favorite stories from their store:

One day, coming home from work after leaving early (sick), I stopped in Glasnost Video® to pick up a feel better flick. In the back of the store was a door, and behind this door (that I called the Iron Curtain) was porn. Good old American porn. Or I assumed it was American. I never went back there, actually. It creeped me out. Anyway, this guy comes in and he has rented a movie from the Iron Curtain section and said movie apparently wasn’t up to snuff (snuff film? I dunno) and so he brings it in to complain to the Kremlin. Well, Father Kremlin decides to put it in the VCR and check it himself. Now in Communistic fashion, the VCR plays for everyone in the store so murky blasting porn goes out over the store monitors. And they watch it. FOR A WHILE. WITH PEOPLE IN THE STORE. Are you kidding me????? No. And Father Kremlin is like, “Well, you need to adjust tracking. Tracking make picture come clear.” And the dude left. No refund. That Russian dude had been through harsh winters, oppression, and Dolph Lundgren movies. Someone doing it in the stinky on a bunch of TVs was nothing to that dude. And for that, you had to respect him.

So I bid you adieu, Glasnost Video, and I hope we can be friends again one day and dance together when Lackluster goes out of business too.

GLASNOST VIDEO
1991?-May 2008

Headshot but no kill

So my headshot pictures are done and I’ve seen them. They look awesome…well, as awesome as pictures of me can look. Stacey is a wizard (Wizardess? Sorceress? Harriet Potter? I dunno. Anyway, she’s good.) with a camera. Now I have to figure out which one to use.

For the record, I chose to go with my ‘young dad’ look, which is kind of what I feel like I’m bridging into, which is much cooler than my ‘too old to be in college, too young to be a dad’ phase that I’ve been in the last few years. (My mom said I shouldn't use any of the ones were you can see my wedding ring. Sorry ladies...)

I had two auditions on the same day this week, which always makes me feel like a pro-actor. The one that I went to on my lunch break (Sherlock Holmes, to be exact) was all set to go well. I had read the script (which I don’t always do), I had some bits set up to do in the audition (I was prepared, ya see), and I was auditioning for a director I like and consider a friend so no pressure. Anyway, I sat there for 40 minutes watching my lunch break tick away so when I finally got in there to audition, I was sweating and watching the clock. Anyway I did OK. Except for the awkward conversation about the fact that rehearsals are in the daytime. I didn’t notice that fact until I looked at the sheet I had to fill out so in the question marked ‘conflicts’ I wrote: “I hate my day job and I’d like to quit it.” Subtle, right?

Anyway, the nighttime audition went not-so-good (it was for Dracula). I have a precedent of doing horribly when I audition in Lawrenceville. Not sure what it is. I think it’s that I’ve never auditioned for a show there were an English accent wasn’t required. Strange that English accents are so prevalent in Lawrenceville theatre, but it is often called The Thames of the South. OK, no one ever calls it that. Anyway, I psyche myself out and have shitty auditions and this was no exception. The nice thing is that you usually run into a couple of folks you know, as I did, and I sat on the floor behind a desk and chatted up my pals like we were hiding from bullies while I waited to speak in my crappy accent.

A funny side story about auditions: actors (who are not douche bags) will look out for each other in very cool ways. So my pal Matt comes up to me and asks about Renfield being immortal. I didn’t remember that happening in the story so Matt hands me the play and walks off. He’d only read the first page (I quote Matt: “I couldn’t get through it.”) but on there, Renfield addresses the audience and says how Bram Stoker had made him immortal. Just a mistake on Matt’s part (I guess that first page really was hard to get through) and I considered for a minute really f’ing with Matt and telling him something ridiculous, but instead I went and told him the story of Dracula so he’d know what he was saying. And other actors have hooked me up on stuff I hadn’t read too, so I paid it forward. But I fought the urge to mess with him.

It reminded me of my friend Jason in high school who did a book report (complete with drawings) for To Kill a Mockingbird. Jason never read the story but guessed that it was about a mockingbird being killed and he knew that Gregory Peck was in a court room in the movie, so he filled in the blanks. It was about a boy who killed a mockingbird and went to court for it. Fantastic. I would KILL to have that book report now. KILL.

Oh yeah, also on their sheet it asks you your name and then it says ‘nickname?’, so I wrote “Thunder.” No one calls me Thunder but it would be awesome if they did.

Col' Busted

At least once a day, this happens:

Someone walks into or beside my cube quietly while I’m internetting and I am forced to quickly close whatever I’m looking at and pretend I was working. I’m certainly not a huge slacker, just a minimal one (bearing in mind that I make comic strips as well, so, um, yeah). Well, this is what I was busted looking at earlier.

For the record, he’s a boxer. It was a boxing site. However, to the passerby, in this case my coworker Ricky stopping by to see ‘what’s up?’, I’m almost certain it had to look like gay pron. Just glance at it. Whiz your head by the picture. Yeah, quite gay. I’m guessing Ricky will not be going to the gym with me anymore. Still, you’ve got to admit that dude (Junior Welterweight Tim Bradley) is in killer shape.

For the record, the picture of the women boxers on the same page wasn't that much better.

I believe these gals are known as 'butter faces'. The bodies are nice, but her face...

True Story

Oh you can be sure I'm keeping a list, True Believer.

Excelsior!

mmyers

HAYDER

Click on comic to make bigger.

One of my favorite professors in school used to tell us that, while we were studying acting, that we would learn all sorts of techniques and skills that would help us. And each time we would learn one of these new techniques, we put it in our little tackle box, as if we were fishermen. Then after a long time of filling this box with lures and baits and all sorts of goodies, we would go fishing. However, when we went fishing, we wouldn’t use all of our fancy-shcmancy baits and lures. We would probably just end up using a cane pole with a lure on it. We still had our box of stuff if we ever needed but chances are we wouldn’t.

This was a very complex metaphor that, to me, meant ‘the simplest way is probably the best.’ Or, as my Mom says, ‘KISS= keep it simple, stupid.’ She doesn’t call me ‘stupid’, FYI. It’s just an acronym.

All of this to say, I did a comic for two years, twice a week when I could. It was started as fun but once I felt pressured to perform, it was not fun. In an attempt to make it fun, I bought a bunch of complex programs and drawing utensils to give me back the sense that I was really drawing and not point and clicking with my old pal MS Paint. Well, I’m back on the horse, sort of, and I’ve brought my old pal MS Paint with me. But I’m not on a schedule. I’m just making some comics. For fun. For friends. For amusement. No pressure. And for better or worse, no access to all the great tools that I have at my disposal.

I’d love to say I may push myself to make better looking comics and all that, but it probably won’t happen. I’ve got work to do and comics ain’t work. Or they shouldn’t be. Unless you’re getting paid for it. Then it’s work. But I love you anyway.

I remember when rock was young,
Mmyers

PS. Happy belated Mom’s Day to all you mommas.

Modern Art

Yesterday I was working on finding a proper size for comics for this site and I just made this one to futz with the sizes. It wasn't meant to be seen and I just wrote the joke as I went (no ending in sight). Anyway, for some reason it's tickling me today, the idea of 'modern art' discussing pop culture. Who knows, I may do more if the mood strikes me.

Downward Rat

My day today started with walking out my front door and my dog Yoshi (pictured) peeing while holding a dead rat in his mouth.

To get the full effect of this, you need to know Yoshi. OK, Yoshi was a street doggie. My wife found him in the parking lot of Wal-Mart in Florida. He was running around, no tags, licking discarded cups in the parking lot, and apparently trying to get him by a car. Not sure why. He’s never told me and he didn’t have a note. Anyway, my wife beckoned him to get in the car and he did and quickly adopted me as his dad (allowing him to stay on at our house because I had voted to drop him off at the Humane Society. He sensed this and buddied up to me very quickly. Thus, he is my dog.)

At the time, we had a Rottweiler, a fantastic dog named Sydnee. She’s gone now but we loved her a lot and she exemplified the ‘alpha dog’ mentality. So, when the crazy street dog showed up at our place, she put it on herself to kick his butt and get him to follow house rules. If you have animals, you know what I mean. Sydnee was very particular about the way things had to be and she expected the boy dog to follow suit. I had never seen that trait in a dog before.

Yoshi was (and sometimes is) what we call ‘a runner’, meaning if the door or gate is open, he runs. He runs for dear life, like we beat him or something. So when he would make a break for it at our old apartment, Sydnee would shoot out after him and push him down to the ground. Or he, being ecstatic about being outside, would immediately get diarrhea. Yep, he was that thrilled to be outside off a leash he’d quickly haunch over and start squirting. Sad really, but it made him easier to catch for both Sydnee and myself.

So Sydnee began overseeing his transformation from crazy street dog to well-adjusted home dog. And she rode that dude. If he barked for no reason, she’d run and clamp down on him and force him to the ground (never hurting him, although she could have, she was just teaching him a lesson). If my wife yelled at Yoshi, Sydnee would growl at him. It was weird. But he learned a lot, and one of the habits is the fact that he doesn’t hike his leg when he pees. He actually goes into ‘downward dog’ (pictured), the yoga stance, when he pees. It’s silly but cracks me up when I see it.

So, this morning I walked out of the door and saw Yoshi in Downward Dog with a rat in his mouth, it was gross and hilarious. Much grosser was having to throw the rat away. If I was a picture minded person, I would have clicked off a shot. Sadly, I just turned around and went inside to get some gloves. But picture it in your head. It’s worth it.

Hayder

Welp, here goes. This is my attempt to start making a new comic strip. I'll talk more about this later but for now, let's just say 'meet Hayder'.

Update: I'm working getting the sizes all nice and proper. For now, if you click on the strip, it makes it legible sized.

I'm a photograph

Well, I had pictures taken of me yesterday. Nothing provocative, all very tasteful. Minimal leather. Actually it was new headshots.

Headshots are kind of an odd beast for me. First off, I don’t photograph well. I started to realize that at a relatively young age, the fact that if I tried to look happy, I’d end up looking stupid, and if I tried to look serious, I’d look stupid, and if I tried to look relaxed, I looked tense and stupid. To counteract this, I started making what I call my ‘Goofy excited face’. In every picture short of a funeral picture (Who takes pictures at funerals, anyway?), I make this face. It beats the camera to the punch, sort of an, “I know you’re going to make me look bad so I’ll beat you to it. Take that, Nikkon.” Honestly, I don't even have control over it anymore.



See? Sadly, even when nice looking people are taking a picture with me, I end up dragging them down in my ‘Goofy Excited Face’ Hell. Even if you’re a 9 or 10 on the “How hot is that person on a 1-10 scale?” I’ll probably knock you down by at least ½ a point. More if I give you bunny ears. All courtesy of my picture face.

Unfortunately, headshots are a necessary evil for what I do. And I can’t make the ‘Goofy Excited Face’ for them, either. Getting my picture taken and having to look ‘cool’ for it ranks right up there with: having to write my bio for playbills, having to introduce myself to people who obviously don’t care who I am, and having to comb my hair and shave my face. These are things that give me no real pleasure.

However, to make the experience less painful, I enlisted the help of my pal Stacey (http://www.staceybode.com/) to snap the shots. Stacey is a talented lady (in no particular order: dancer, piano player, actress, scientist, photographer) and probably one of the 3 funniest girls I’ve ever met in my life. So we wandered around East Atlanta and snapped shots. And Stacey made it very easy. Instead of the pressure of getting the ‘perfect shot’, it felt like to buds running around the city being silly. Didn’t everyone have that friend in high school who suddenly got into the camera and wanted to take pictures of everything (usually graveyards)? Well, it was like that, sans the graveyard and teen angst. I laughed quite a bit so I imagine there will be lots of pictures of my mouth gaping open and me laughing.

Not sure how they turned out by Stacey seemed pleased so that’s fine with me. I looked at a couple and they seemed cool. Always hard for me to judge. So new pictures soon. But never fear: I’ll unleashing the ‘Goofy Excited Face’ again at a party near you.

Moving furniture in the middle of the night

I've never been one for moving during the night time. If I have my way, I'm a middle of the day, cooler full of beer kind of guy. Still this time, with this space, I'm sneaking in. I don't want to do too much too quick.

See, I've had a myspace page and I've had my own little comic strip/blog page (mr-pixel.com) and I've had places I've went and lolly gagged about at (stripcreator.com), but this is a little different. On the run from the fine IT folks of the company I work for (who prevent users from going to Twitter or myspace or Facebook), I've decided I'll make a little home for myself here. A place where I can post comic strips if I so desire, or stories, or even shamelessly self-promote. Who knows, if I figure out the technology

I didn't really have a good name for my place away from prying eyes so I settled on Black Smoke Factory. I think it makes a nice image. Well, not in real life but it certainly conjures an image in your head, or I hope it does.

So welcome. And maybe I'll eventually invite folks over to this place. Or not. Maybe it's a my cabin in the woods. Did you know that they once found a cabin in the woods that belonged to Gustav Klimt. It had several unfinished paintings of his in it and he had the people in all sorts of crazy, sexual positions before he painted over it. I promise you I won't have any crazy, sexual paintings but that's about all I can promise.

Best,
mmyers