It’s one thing for Comcast’s website to be down and I have to call up to pay my bill. It happens. Though my ISP’s website being down is something of a bad omen. But if the sole contents of the “cancel your account” page is “call this 800 number,” you’ve failed at life. Like, that ‘an hero’ dude looks down on your failed ass from whatever pit he ended up in. Just saying.

(Because I wasn’t exactly clear above, the company in question is Columbia House, and they fail at a lot more than just account cancellations. Comcast isn’t much better, but there’s a Comcast office a block and a half from where I work so I can at least avoid the god damned phone call.)

Dug up the original sketch that inspired my AIM screen name. This was going to be a tattoo for my sister once upon a time. I drew (and she shot down) a stitch down his crotch. She didn’t find gender realignment bunny as awesome as I did. I guess she wanted a more traditional stuffed rabbit holding a knife and a flag with the heartagram on it. (Protip: The heartagram looks cool, but HIM isn’t worth the amount of worship you people dish out. Don’t get the fucking band logo etched into your skin, kids.)

I switched up my Firefox theme yesterday, and discovered that I do not understand how this program works one fucking bit. See, the Tab Mix Plus extension allows you, among other things, to have the tab list drop into multiple rows instead of shrinking to near-infinity, or forcing you to scroll the list. This is precisely what it failed to do around the time I switched up to Firefox 2. As it turns out, the problem only existed in the Nautipolis theme, and I have no goddamn idea why. All I know is that there is a very low threshold for the things which can cause me joy. Seriously, I’m enamored enough with an interface to sit down and write about it.

Which probably explains why I spent half an hour looking at leekspin earlier this morning.

Horseshoes and Handgrenades is skipping, and I can’t tell if it’s because their internet connection sucks balls, or the NHB server is sucking balls. I’d also accept my internet connection sucking balls, which would be a wondrous bridge between Comcast of Denver and Comcast of Grand Rapids, as neither can seem to get their shit together. Anyhow, I finally got around to doing a user icon for my AIM account. Only took me a few years and three screen names. (Four counting my private SN, and yay for selective invisibility!)

Anyhow, the account is “genderbunny,” which came about because I didn’t want my old SN to be read over the air when I write in to NHB, as it was lame. Way lame. And like a genius, I drew the head too large to draw the bunny ears, so I had to use a carrot, possibly inviting a lawsuit from both Warner Brothers and Jhonen Vasquez simultaneously. And yay for you if you got the Vasquez reference.

I tried to make the carrot look a bit like a cigarette, because nothing says “tobacco, not marijuana” like greenish smoke. I suppose I could’ve used an old, wilted-ass carrot or something. I dunno, I’ve spent more time typing so far than working on this, I didn’t leave a whole lot of time for thinking.

Done with Photoshop vectors, one layer effect, and a raster gradient background, hence why it’s still so crisp at 10x zoom. (In a gross reversal of standard procedure, I worked at the final size, 50×50 px and scaled it up for the internet.)

The first sketchblog for two months, wow! because I haven’t done shit for the last two months. Unless I never posted my progress on the next page of SEP, which I will finish someday. For now, I’m gonna watch Lilo & Stitch or something, the skipping on NHB has entered the realm of the criminal.

I’ve learned the following life lessons today:

1. When shouting at a leashless dog to “back off,” owner of said dog will automatically assume that you’ve threatened the safety and or life of the dog
2. That a hospital visit that I literally cannot afford is not a sufficient reason to react negatively to said leashless dog
3. That I will be killed should I carry out the aforementioned nonextant threat
4. That I’d better buy a coffin and/or tombstone, I can’t quite recall
5. That an unarmed, overweight man can kill an armed man half his age and weight
6. That I’d give him the chance when I can easily outrun him
7. That I can easily talk my way out of a fight
8. That the worst I’ll actually do is to vent my impotent rage via the internet

Most importantly, I was reminded that dog owners are truly the scum of the earth. Seriously, go fucking shoot yourselves.

What? Pencils have barrels. Non-heretical mechanical pencils do. What, that gun euphemism? If I recall correctly, you sight down the barrel. If you’re being shot at, you’re looking up the barrel, and won’t be for long if you are indeed being shot at at the time. The title does so make sense! Fine, be that way.

Okay, seriously, how many hells did freeze over? Of course, it’s Howard Taylor. The more it goes right at the start, the more it’s gonna go wrong in the climax. I’ll be surprised if Yoming is still in one by there end of this one.

The planet. That they’re currently on. It’s called Yoming. Honestly, if you have to ask then you’re not gonna care what Taylor writes anyway. Yeah, just keep up the attitude, see where it gets you, buster.

In other news, why didn’t anyone tell me how good Lilo and Stitch was? Disney gets something right for once and it takes me five years to sit down and watch it.

Seriously, though, fucking awesome flick. I’d recommend it, but I’m like the only guy in the country who hadn’t already seen it.

Aaron “Dresden Codak” Diaz bears no relation to Sophia from Brimzero. Just sayin’.

Speaking of which, I bet I should actually draw a page or something.

Also, Jeanne D’arc rocks very, very hard. And I’m not just saying that because my SRPG options are FF Tactics or buying a PS2 to play Disgaea again.

The odd thing is that when you really get right down to it, Jon is just yelling at a comic book.

I really have to buy some mesh heads for my fake drums, the heads are still a little louder than I’d like in an apartment type setting. Particularly the bass, I can hardly hear the sample over the sound of the pedal smacking the trigger. (Fortunately, there’s a really nice sample for the floor tom that works in a pinch.) Though my neighbors haven’t come over to complain yet, so it might not be carrying as bad as I think.

After beating the everloving fuck out of the tom triggers for half an hour, I have to ask how in the hell drummers stand being so sweaty after those long-ass solos. (My dad had a similar question, but it was centered more on him being out of breath. I think it has something to do with how drummers have played the drums once or twice before.) I’m just glad that I happened to set up the kit almost directly underneath my air conditioner. That could be considered a Good Thing.

Also, comics sometime soon. It occurred to me that I can’t really get away with that “screw off, guitar-monkey, I’m a cartoonist, not a drummer” bit I gave my dad unless i actually draw something every once in a while.