What I'd like to do, but lack the resources

I worked up a little three-panel comic today, that I ended up being discontent with because I couldn't make it look just how I wanted.

PANEL 1 (Brainfreeze sits at a bar, depressed): So I robbed the 7-11 earlier.
PANEL 2 (Brainfreeze extends hand menacingly): As I was leaving, I pointed at the girl behind the counter and said "Have an ice day."
PANEL 2 (Bartender, off-panel): Didn't Schwarzenegger say that in Batman and Robin?
PANEL 3 (Brainfreeze even more depressed): That's what she asked.

ALT TEXT: For a supervillain, this is basically like contracting cancer.

The more I hammered at it, the more I thought: Damn, this would be so much easier to do - and so much better to look at - if instead of drawings, I just used photographs. Had people dress up as supervillains and do a photo comic strip about the trivialities of their lives.

It would be easy to do, it would be fun to do, it would be fun to read. The setup is the only hard part. The costuming and the hiring of people to play the part. But that "only hard part" is sufficiently hard that the project will never get off the ground. GRUMBLE, GRUMBLE...

Quiero!

I recently inherited a chihuahua. His name was "Mickey", but that name kind of sucked so I changed his name to "Quiero" (as in "Yo quiero Taco Bell"). Since they both have the "kee" sound in them, he has taken to it easily. Now if we could just teach him to pee in the proper place, he'd be a real joy to have around. Luckily, his bladder and bowels are only about the size of a walnut.

I weigh four-hundred and forty-eight pounds this morning, which is about 25 pounds away from where I started my current diet regimen. It feels good to be under 450. I don't know when the last time was that I weighed this little (literally, I don't remember). Why, in a hundred more pounds, I'll be able to safely use most exercise equipment!

Red VS Blue

Wish Fulfillment Dreams!

I hate 'em.

Last night I dreamed that I was in a World of Warcraft-esque world, which began with me consulting my map and deciding that I was going to venture into the lands south of what was marked on my map as my old high school, Dobyns-Bennett. With me was a klutzy female companion of some kind who I do not recognize. She seemed to be wearing the robe and hood of a magic user of some sort.

So into that southern land we ventured. The land seemed to be a dark, dragon's-mountain-dungeon sort of land, controlled by her father, who I recall was named something like "Boros". Boros was about seven feet tall and classified as an "Icon" by the game's identification system. He happily volunteered to single-handedly run me through a difficult dungeon, and said that later he didn't see any reason why he couldn't use his vast empire to help me publish comic books and t-shirts of my design.

It was around this time that the logical part of my brain began to say "too much of a good thing", and I awoke, irritated.

I ran a red light!

... and at any other time of day would have been unceremoniously t-boned, but luckily it was bleary-eyes o'clock this morning in downtown Johnson City and nobody was around except for me and the truck rumbling toward me that indicated I was running a red light. When his deceleration did not occur, I craned my head around my irritatingly low car ceiling, saw the red light, flashed a hurried "I'm sorry" wave to the truck, and squirted on through.

I had stopped at the traffic light while it was green to let Christina out of the car, and I guess a part of me just assumed it would remain green all the while. Whoopsy-daisy!

I have to go to Kingsport for dental shenanigans later today, and I really don't want to. I imagine that's where my mind was when it should have been concentrating on the duration of traffic signals.