Point and Click

Readers should be aware that drawings and updates for this blog may decrease slightly for a week or so because I have recently broken a finger. Well, I'm exaggerating, I didn't break my finger, but it is injured enough that a doctor wrapped it in bandage with a splint, so making use of my hand is an awkward ordeal at best.

Now how can I point at strangers and laugh uproariously? How will I finger paint, test the direction of the wind, do the 'wink and the gun', pick up wet pennies off the floor, or rub my finger across dusty mantles and scoff at the maid? And don't say I should use my other hand! This is the index finger of my alpha hand; the writing/ drawing/ wiping hand. (Even now I'm typing with one hand and one elbow.)

Anyway, instead of just revealing how it happened. I offer multiple choice. Play the game: "How I Hurt Myself"

A) I had a fight with a brown bear in an airplane over a girl. Luckily I was able to eject the bear from the aircraft, but not before he struck me in the finger with his powerful forepaws.

B) I was water skiing and hit a rogue wave, wiped out on an Indo-Pacific Bottlenose dolphin and got my finger lodged in its blowhole. The dolphin thrashed in panic and injured my finger.

C) While playing some basketball with strangers, I misjudged my skills and the trajectory of a pass to me. Instead of it landing gracefully in my hands so I could perform a layup, I flailed my hands out like a fat kid rushing for the last marshmallow square, and let the ball smash into my finger instead.

The lines are open, submit your answers now.

Mitch & Roland: #3 Subway

The weekend finally appears and forecasts declare it shall be a frosty maiden arriving at your door with gifts of wind and precipitation. It would be best to don both a scarf and a toque to keep the chill from humping your ears into submission. And on an unrelated note, here's another comic.

Get Full or Die Tryin'

Sometimes in this crazy world, people's opinions, desires, and vehicles clash, though hardly ever. And there's only one correct way to end a dispute. In Korea that way is Rock, Scissors, Paper. Back in the west, we have a much more vocal solution.

Save the Goombas

Long have we heard the stories of how video games are corrupting the youth of society. That they numb the brain, encourage violence, and promote indecent lifestyles. I'm saddened to say that it is completely true. Not only have clever politicians uncovered video games as the source of many of history's recent tragedies, but I have done some careful research and discovered some more isolated cases.

Culprit: Mario Bros. (1983)
Details: Jeremy Nickels, age 11, died after eating a series of forest mushrooms in the hopes that one would make him grow larger.

Culprit: Resident Evil 2 (1998)
Details: Mike Branstein, age 16, snuck into his neighborhood police station and used all the typewriters without permission. He also took all their gems and eagle medallions.

Culprit: Wolfenstein 3D (1992)
Details: Donnie Jacobs, age 15, and his brother Wally Jacobs, age 13, stole their father's machine gun and took it to the nearest castle where they savagely gunned-down four dozen innocent Nazis.

Culprit: Final Fantasy Series (1987-Present)
Details: Rob Wishaw, age 9, began a habit of holding newly obtained items (whether a book, pencil, or granola bar, etc.) above his head in triumph and shouting "Ta-da-da-DA-DUM!". Family, friends, and classmates quickly found him annoying as shit.

Culprit: Dr. Mario (1990)
Details: Vanessa Malle, age 11, was told by her mother that she had the flu and the girl then consumed handfuls and handfuls of pills because they had matching color combinations. She did not get better.

Culprit: Tetris (1985)
Details: Bobby Rothe, age 9, was stacking toy building blocks in his living room when he completed four rows at once with a long vertical column, creating a violent tetris that ignited the carpet. He suffered third degree burns over half his body and was lucky to escape the house before it was engulfed entirely in flame.

Culprit: Donkey Kong (1981)
Details: Martin Johnson, age 14, bludgeoned a monkey to death at the zoo with a mallet. He later told officials that he believed the monkey was reaching for a barrel. He then inquired if the princess had been saved.

Culprit: Super Metroid (1994)
Details: Duane Pemberton, age 13, attempted to swing from rooftop to rooftop with his grappling beam/ skipping rope. He may have avoided falling to his death had he not been weighed down with several thermoses filled with grape kool-aid that he called his 'energy tanks'.

Culprit: Grand Theft Auto 3 (2001)
Details: Mark Tannor, age 16, was so eager to purchase the game on its release day that he stole a car. While racing to the mall he hit an old woman, panicked, and raced off in the ambulance that had come to help her. After a long chase with the police, he rolled the ambulance over in a field, outran the ensuing explosion and held the cops off with a flame thrower. Out of ammo, Mark then ran around until a crappy pickup truck appeared, which he drove off in, narrowly avoiding a car full of FBI agents who totally creamed a sidewalk filled with pedestrians. After an unsuccessful jump over a bus, Mark fled the vehicle again, shot down a police helicopter, and was run over by a tank. Sadly he had enough money to cover the hospital bill and was able to purchase the game the following day.

Mitch & Roland: #2 Brick

It's the weekend, and you know what that means, right? No....well, yes. You should feed your dog and visit your grandmother - they both need the attention. But also the weekend means another one of these:

Where have all the weirdos gone?

In the past many sitcoms were built on the premise of one really strange character being thrown into a mix of normal people. They have been anything from genies to monsters to witches to aliens. Mostly aliens (Mork and Mindy, Alf, Third Rock from the Sun).

In fact, I can recall playing a video game based on the show Alf when I was very young for the Commodore 64 ( a computer so powerful, it could display text without hemorrhaging sparks into your lap). The game was filled with vibrant colors (three, I think) and a rich story about a brown smudge - that represented Alf - running around a PacMan-esque environment trying to devour cats and avoid capture.

Sure it was exaggerated a bit, but the game is essentially based on the sitcom. I can't think of any sitcoms nowadays, or in recent memory, that are worthy of a video game - even a poorly designed one. Could you imagine playing a game based on According to Jim or Two and a Half Men? I can, and it involves me shrieking and putting a foot through a monitor.

Sitcoms today still use the idea that one character can stir up all the madness, but now it's usually a cocky kid or an exuberant homosexual. We need to get back to our comedy roots with some extreme ideas. Like how about a couple who inherit a large expensive house, but the catch is that the home is already home to a blind ogre.

Drink, Drink, Drink, Drink ...

I've come across an alarming bit of news which I have to share with you now. The article is from http://www.shortnews.com/. Let's read it together, how 'bout? Alright:

"Woman Enjoys Large Glass of Antifreeze, Dies (Okay, hold on right there. Enjoys? A woman enjoys the large glass of antifreeze that kills her? I think we can settle on the fact that she consumed it, and let it go at that.)

An Alaskan woman is dead after drinking a significant quantity of antifreeze. (What exactly is an insignificant quantity of antifreeze to drink? Like, a shot? I will be bold and say that any amount, even a cap full you try in the basement because it smells so good, is significant.) The woman, who was looking for something to drink, came across a soft drink container. Unbeknownst to her, the container was actually filled with the deadly chemical. (Where the hell was she to come across this container of liquid and decide that it was okay to guzzle? Was she in a garage? At a party with a bunch of mechanics? And how thirsty do you need to be to drink a 'found' bottle of mislabelled fluid?)

She cracked it open, and began to drink it (This woman must have been thirsty. Like, desert thirsty. And yet she lives in Alaska.). Apparently, she somehow thought it was a glass of home brew (the ideal thing to drink when you find it), and continued consuming the liquid. Soon, her husband (who was also very trusting of strange smelling liquids, and dying of thirst) began drinking it with her. The woman then began to feel ill, then promptly died (At least she enjoyed it....right?).

Paramedics were called, and her husband was taken to a hospital. He told troopers he had a few sips (he had to drive home and you know how coolant messes you up), but that his wife had much more (a significant amount. Maybe a quart). He claimed they didn't know what they were drinking (not a stranger's moonshine, or mountain burst powerade as they had hoped). His condition at this time is not known."

Well, obviously a woman dying is no laughing matter, but the carelessness of these two people boggles my mind. You'd think that drinking antifreeze would be a generally easy thing to avoid in life, but thousands of people drink it every year. Why? Because it's delicious! Something has to be done. We need to stop making our toxic chemicals scrumptious!

From The Library of Funktastic

I think in many ways the books we read as a child define who we become in life. Those first few bits of colorful literature that we get our mitts on definitely influence us. When I was just a lad I can remember totally loving Dr. Seuss, Robert Munsch, Shel Silverstein, and my ultimate favourite, Roald Dahl. They still rock to this day.

Whether you were reading The Berenstain Bears, or The Adventures of Tintin, I'm sure you still hold fond memories of those readings. The children I teach all seem to be hooked on mangas and Harry Potter, and they will all grow up wanting to be ninjas, robots, and wizards. Those are fine aspirations.

Anyway, not all children's books are wonderful and appropriate for the youth. Here are the worst: