A few months back, I bought the Criterion DVD of Richard Linklater’s DAZED AND CONFUSED. I love the movie, although the first time I saw it I felt like I was having a ‘Nam flashback and barely made it all the way to the closing credits.

I’ve had other fans of the movie ask me which character was closest to representing me in those days. Randall “Pink” Floyd, star quarterback? Mike Newhouse, would-be journalist (the guy people tend to assume I was)? Or perhaps David Wooderson, rockin’ the fine porno mustache?

None of the above. During my scholastic career, I would have been this blink-and-you’ll-miss-him young lad:

What do you think that guy did on the night of May 28th, 1976? Do you think he went to the big beer bust and scored on the foxy chicks? Hell no — I can tell you exactly what that guy did: he sat at home, thanked Jesus that he survived another year of school, then made himself up as Dr. Zaius while watching INVASION OF THE STAR CREATURES on the late show.

I wouldn’t have been caught dead in those khaki pants, though.

Bob Vardeman (star of THE STINK OF FLESH and GIMME SKELTER, and author of lots and lots of novels and short stories) has opened The Cenotaph Road Store, where you can purchase and download novels and short stories by Bob and other writers, including me. Right now, you can get my short story They Don’t Drive Cars (featuring a nifty little illustration by John Howard) for a mere $1.99!

This is a cool experiment and I hope people will support it. Bob’s planning to add new stories and books on a regular basis, and as far as my own work goes, he’ll be adding two more shorts (Stedman Eats It and Uncertain Times at Uncle Fatty’s) over the next couple weeks. Beyond that, my long-talked-about (by me, anyway) novel The Monster Hammer will be serialized on the site beginning very soon (I’m guessing a chapter a month until it’s complete).

So get on over to The Cenotaph Road Store and buy a story or two! Support hungry writers!

This thing is apparently known as a Mexican House Centipede.

a.k.a “Jen! What’s this creepy goddamn bug coming out of the sink?”

I’m taking a little break from drawing and figured I’d do a quick post. I’ve got three panels left to complete on the current page — one of ‘em is penciled and the others are roughed out, so I think I can finish it off fairly quickly. Then it’s onto the scanner and into Photoshop for some phony zip-a-tone.

I finally worked up my courage enough to make an appointment with the oral surgeon to see about getting that broken tooth yanked. I couldn’t get in until May 29th, and that’s just so the doc can give it the once-over — I’ll have to make another appointment after that to have the tooth pulled. Ugh.

Speaking of doctors, I took Casey to the vet today. Her lip has been kinda raw and swollen lately — it was so bad on Saturday that it looked like she was wearing those goofy wax lips, but it’s gotten better since then. I was worried sick about her, though, and Jen made me take her in so I’d shut up about it. The vet gave us some ointment, so as long as we can keep her from licking it all off she should be fine. And speaking of Casey, how about a photo of my favorite doggie (pre-fat lip)?

I finally pulled my head out of my butt, went to the links page, and added a link to my buddy Brian Jones’ website. His blog is much more interesting than mine. And he has a cleaner office.

What the — how the heck did I not know about this toy? How the heck do I not own this toy?

And how about that incredibly disturbing moment when the little girl nuzzles the Great Garloo?

(via Blog Flume)

The trip to the dentist was kind of anticlimactic. A nice lady led me to a room, told me to lay back on the comfy chair, then flopped a big lead-lined bib across my chest. After the x-ray, the dentist came in and said the tooth looked bad. He asked how things were going and I mentioned the septic tank problems. He has one too, so we discussed that for a while. Then he looked in my mouth, went “Hm,” then said “It looks better in the x-ray.”

His assessment: the tooth died a long time ago, and he doesn’t want to pull it because it’s probably gonna get ugly. So he recommended an oral surgeon, which means I have to make another appointment and anticipate the pain all over again.

His comment about the tooth dying a long time ago made me realize something, though: I had a really lousy dentist as a kid, and to this day I think he needlessly put fillings in four of my molars just to make the cash. I mean, what normal kid who brushes his teeth and doesn’t eat that much crap has to have four teeth filled before he’s 15? And that busted tooth? A piece of it broke off when I was 17, but it never bothered me so I never had it fixed. The fact that it broke back then and never hurt (and doesn’t hurt now, despite having the dentist’s Pick of Doom jabbed heartily into its broken center) makes me think that crappy dentist killed the tooth when he filled it. So I’ve been hauling a necrotic tooth around for 97 years.

Anyway, I’m gonna make an appointment with that oral surgeon and get the thing yanked outta my head. Boy oh boy, am I looking forward to that.

The septic tank and new drain field are buried underground where they belong (although there was a harrowing half-hour or so wherein the inspector waffled about signing off on the tank) and flushing has returned to normal levels of productivity.

However, on Tuesday afternoon I broke a tooth, so today I’m going to the dentist. I hate going to the dentist, so I’ve been in a real swell mood this week, I can assure you.

On an entirely unrelated note, is it just me or is that Shamwow guy utterly terrifying? It’s like having Two-Face try to sell you a rag.

Here’s the back cover for the funnybook:

The comic almost certainly won’t be called The Also-Rans (although it’s a good title) — I just wanted something to slap on the back cover and liked the sound of it. I’m writing the next one-page strip now, a little intro page. After that, Howie and I will both be doing one-pagers from our respective points-of-view on the infamous Wondercon Drunken Donut Fight. It’ll be like Rashomon only really really stupid.

More exciting septic tank action today. I swear, it never ends. The pumping truck showed up this morning and sucked all the slop out of the tank (for the third time), then a little while after that, the guys showed up to start work on the new drain field. I spent a good chunk of the morning running back and forth to open and close the gate for ‘em (so Casey wouldn’t take off running after any passing bicyclists — she hates bicyclists) and holding up the Internet cable with a rake so the backhoe and gravel truck wouldn’t tear it down.

They finished the drain field around 4:00, but the inspector “probably won’t be here” until 9 AM Wednesday, so they had to leave the tank, drain pipes and drain field uncovered. As long as the inspector doesn’t find anything untoward (and I’m not betting on that simply because this has turned into such a drawn-out ordeal already), we might have it all buried again by Wednesday afternoon.

Meanwhile, when I wasn’t running around with the rake, I worked on the back cover for the still-untitled Me-n-Howie comic. I’m close to being finished with the inks, then I’ll scan it so I can add the lettering and phony zip-a-tone in Photoshop. I have to start on the next page by Wednesday to stay on schedule (a page a week until it’s all done).

Me and Jen almost bought a ‘64 Ford Falcon yesterday, but we overcame the urges. Besides, what she really wants is a Duster.