Dear friends and family,
Due to the "numerous" (read: one) complaints about the length of my previous entry, I have decided to be more succinct with this one. To that end, I have scoured the web in search of something which can sum up my life, and function adequately as a proper blog post for this site. To that end, gentlemen (ladies, look away. Viewing this would be....unbecoming):
So, recently I took part in a contest that was held by the Escapist Magazine’s website. Anyone could submit four comic strips to the website, the winner would be featured on the website weekly and the writer/artist would have a paid contract etc…
Simple enough, I thought I had what it took. So, the seemingly elementary task of creating a “videoed game webcomic” was taken upon myself. I slaved away for practically a month conceiving and digitally drawing a webcomic that incorporated modern gaming humor, a complicating task for a young man who only owns a Nintendo 64.
With the brief knowledge I had about gaming culture at the time, I was able to stumble upon silly scenarios involving the “Mario Brothers” and “Sonic the Hedgehog” or whatever.
And nerf herders.
I looked up what nerfs looked like and I drew them. For a whole month.
I tried to suit the standards incorporated in a variety of video game webcomics (the good ones, which are very few) and steered away from what most of my art delves into (instances where all sense of reality is distorted or corrupted to a degree in which mankind realizes there is no God, male characters making out with each other in the last panel).
I was proud of the outcome; it wasn’t groundbreaking, but good for a farm boy finding his way around the vast plains of the inter-net.
I submitted my entries, waited, and lost.
I didn’t even place.
I could go on a diatribe concerning the winner and honorable mentions, but I think they speak for themselves.
At least I am technically on the internet. Here I am.
(here doesn't count)
I’m on the 8th page of listed entries. Next to a bunch of furry comics. Yeah.
I accept my defeat. Backs were broken and I learned valuable lessons. And I still like my comic, so there (can’t do anything with the characters, I believe the Escapist owns them from now until eternity [HAHAHAHA]).
HERE IS MY SONG OF DEFEAT.
nerf herders.
Good afternoon. I assume its afternoon as you’re reading this, because you’re all horrendous slackers. That’s alright, I am too, and that’s actually why we’re all here. Together. Forever. I would like to share with you all a few things I’ve discovered recently, while drinking scotch at 3 in the morning for the past week.
1. Scotch is, in fact, the most wonderful thing ever invented. It is much, much better than the affection of a child or the love of a good woman. Anyone else who tells you differently is clearly just trying to hoard the scotch for themselves and should, for that reason, be carefully followed home every night for at least a month. Once his or her daily pattern has been established, as well as their general likes and dislikes (easily found by watching their tv from across the street), they should be seduced so that their key may be taken and copied. Preferably, this will be done by Jason Statham, as he has demonstrated aptitude for such an act in The Italian Job. It shouldn’t really matter whether the hoarder is male or female, as all men are driven, almost biologically, to obey such a glorious alpha male. Women just really dig bald muscle-y kung-fu dudes. Once a copy of the key has been obtained, leisurely enter the hoarder’s place of residence and remove all of their scotch. Also, leave a loaded Winchester shotgun wherever they were keeping their scotch in order to better facilitate their depression driven suicide.
2. Caster Shells are awesome. They always have been, and they make Outlaw Star awesome. It is a terrible shame that episodes are impossible to find on the internet.
3. Space-ships that forego missile and laser attacks for hand to hand combat with giant axe-wielding waldos is a combat strategy that, no matter what the situation, will always succeed provided there’s a nude android girl floating in a tank of coolant helping you pilot your ship. Also, snarky j.a.r.v.i.s.-esque robot voices named Gilliam and really, just spectacular red-black hair and a tank-top. Center-points for any space fight, to be sure
4. I fear that the stress of trying to come up with an astounding super-awesome blog post as web master has led me to crack, and my newfound affection for childlike shows about space-ships that wrestle and guns that shoot magic is just evidence of my growing insanity.
5. If I turn up to the next meeting wearing nothing but post-it-notes with penises drawn on them, know that I blame Will.
