Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Criticizin' Commercials with Garrett

In this post, I'm going to show some of my least favorite commercials, followed by the insightful criticisms that I have of them.  Are you as excited as I am?!

1. Dentyne Ice: "The Hunt"
(The funny thing about this commercial is... the guy got herpes that night!)

2. Poise Pads - Presented by Whoopi Goldberg
(During a Law & Order: SVU marathon, filled with baby rapes and incest, this commercial was the hardest thing to deal with.)

3.Verizon 4G Speed
(Look, it doesn't matter to me that you can download Gulliver's Travels in eight seconds.  I just need to know, that if god forbid someone I love gets injured, that I will be able to download pornography while they go to the hospital.)




Monday, May 16, 2011

Hiatus

I'm sorry for how long it's been since I last blogged.  I guess I just got caught up in the hustle and bustle of the big city.  Also it is way easier to send my thoughts one at a time via twitter.  Any-who... here are the latest cartoons.  I keep e-mailing them to MAD Magazine under threatening subject lines about what will happen if they don't publish them, but, still no luck.  









Wednesday, March 23, 2011

New York City: Week 1

 I need a job.  Not because I want one, but because drawing cartoons and writing a blog for my friends won’t pay the bills here.  The trick is to find a job that won’t beat my spirit down so severely that I lose the will to come home and draw something funny, and one that won’t cause me to drink during the week and resent the fact that Iris makes more than me.  The trick is to find a way to make money without caring only about doing so.  The first week has been great!  Living on my savings has afforded me the time to draw cartoons, explore the city and come to terms with how finite my funds really are.  If it really is about “who you know,” I think that I have my resume in the hands of the right people and should be starting the interview process soon.  Until then I’ll continue my work as a “tortured cartoonist” and homemaker, although I don’t believe there is such a thing as a tortured cartoonist, “I can’t live in a world where they don’t laugh at my doodle of a cow deciding what to pay for gratuity!”
Week 1 Highlights:
1. Found a couple of great restaurants and handed out the first "Golden Meal Award"
2. Explored Central Park 
3. Showcased my unique brand of Karaoke to a crowd of dozens
4. Saw the guy from "Royal Pains" at brunch
5. Attempted to cure a hangover by walking over to the dog park and petting the little doggies


the 'toons



(Caption Contest 3/17/2010)



Tuesday, March 22, 2011


Whether you agree with their lifestyle choice or not, you have to admit... they look happy.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

St. Patrick must have the spins in his grave...

Short blog today as it is St. Patty's Day and Penn State is in the NCAA Tournament.  Drawing a cartoon, watching the game, then going to explore.  

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

From a Starbucks


My NCAA Tournament bracket is due tomorrow, and because my apartment is still without internet, I am forced to take lappy for a walk to the nearest Starbucks to soak in some of their sweet, sweet  wi-fi.  I am word processing the bulk of this post while still at home because I don’t want to spend too much time there, not drinking their coffee, I don’t like coffee, unless it’s one of those delicious, frothy, “Mocha-Frappa,” deals which I feel very effeminate ordering.  If I ever really do want one of them I pull out a piece of paper and pretend to read my order, as if someone sent me in there to order it for them, preserving my street rep in the eyes of the Starbucks baristas.

I handed out my first Golden Meal Award last night at a restaurant called, “The Stumble Inn.”  Iris and I passed it on Sunday night on our way to another restaurant, which ended up sucking, so we went back to see what it was all about.

(write-up)
Boasting a nice list of daily drink specials, The Stumble Inn wins you over right away with friendly service and affordable prices.  They offer a wide array of pub grub including all of the staples; mozzarella sticks, nachos, buffalo wings, etc. but what really sets them apart is their selection of  “stuffed” burgers.  The piping hot blue cheese and bacon burger came to the table alongside a heaping portion of crispy fries and the next round of beers.  Great food, drinks, and flat-screen TVs make The Stumble Inn a great place to watch a game and unwind.
3/16/11
The Stumble Inn… (The Stuffed Stumbler)

I just realized that I do not own an umbrella so I am going to have to use one of Iris’s for my walk to Starbucks.  If that doesn’t make me look girly enough, my Caramel-Mocha-Frappacini surely will.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Friday, February 25, 2011

The Final Chapter

The Adventures of Richard Garrettson
Chapter 6
The Final Chapter

Still reeling from his job at the country club, Richard could tell instantly he was in a better work environment at the pharmacy.  It helped that he had one of his best friends training him, but he could sense that he was among good people.  The job seemed easy enough; transport medicine between four pharmacy branches, make one deposit per day at the bank, supply medications to retirement homes and make a couple home deliveries along the way.  His in-store duties were slightly more stressful but nothing he couldn't handle.  With the exception of a few early cash register blunders, Richard found his way quickly and was off and running at his new job.  As well as things were going, he learned one truth about himself very early on in his career, down on the pharm...  He was way too immature to handle the uncomfortable questions of the health care world.  
"Do you have anything to get a stool sample out of the toilet?"
"You mean like a spoon?" (Turning purple trying not to laugh)
This made things difficult for Richard.  These people weren't weird or gross, they just had an uncomfortable health concern that needed to be addressed. He simply was not equipped to handle such questions.  He had a tendency to be absent minded at times as well.  For someone whose mind tends to wander, the delivery car was a place where his thoughts ran wild.  Despite these issues, he found his place and had a more fulfilling work experience than he had in his previous jobs.  He got to know his co-workers and returning customers, and his delivery duties became second nature to him.  He wasn't scheduled for many hours, but that afforded him time to take a second job working with his old high school basketball team, and allowed him a day or two per week to draw cartoons.  This would be his life until he and Begonia could find a way to move to the city in which they both had always dreamed of living, New York.  Well, fast forward seven months and a department from Begonia's office was transported to New York.  She put her name in the mix for a transfer and through a whirlwind of events, Richard found himself searching for apartments with Begonia and a real estate broker in the Big Apple.  Just like that his dreams were coming true.  He now had the opportunity to find his true calling in the most awesome-est city ever.  
He was sorry to have to leave the pharmacy before he anticipated, but everyone understood that this was a great opportunity and he and Begonia had to take it while they had the chance.  
And that brings us to the present, Richard is finishing his stint at the pharmacy and preparing for his big move into the great unknown.
Are you ready for the surprise twist that would make M. Night Shyamalan poop himself in disbelief?  
Richard Garrettson... is me.  I created an alter ego to tell my tale as I careened through the working world.  If you look closely, you'll see that I simply mixed up the letters in my name to form the pseudonym.

G  a  r  r  e  t  t   R  i  c  h  a  r  d  s  o  n
R i t t a r d  G a r r e c h s o n
Richard Garrettson

Begonia is Iris, Preston is Dustin, Siggy is Justin (because he loves his Sigma Pi fraternity so much), so on, and so on.  Thanks to everyone who made my adventure so great thus far, there are good times ahead for all of us.
You will notice that this blog will have a new look when I move, it will chronicle my journey as I, like Carmelo Anthony before me, take my talents to New York.



  




Friday, January 28, 2011

"Truth or Dare?"



Movie Song
Punch Drunk and Disorderly is a boxing movie that has a lot in common with the classics like Cinderella Man and The Fighter. It centers around a boxer (Mike "Speedy Gonzales" Gonzales) who is nearing the end of his career.  In his early days he showed much promise, but after losing some key bouts, it looked like he would never fulfill his true potential.  After a particularly devastating defeat at the hands of a one armed up-and-comer they called, Tony "Left, left, left," McGregor, Mike found himself walking into a bar.  You see, Mike never drank because he was a Mormon, did I mention that? He plopped down at the bar and asked for the stiffest drink they served.  The bartender whipped up his secret recipe that he called a "Tequila Mockingbird" and handed it to Mike.  He choked it down and asked for another.  This pattern continued on into the night.  
After awhile another patron in the watering hole recognized Mike and said, "Hey! You're Speedy Gonzales Gonzales! Can I have an autograph?"
To which Mike replied, "YOU'RE Shpeedy Gonzales Poopzales, I'll show YOU an autograph!" as he punched the unsuspecting fan in the face.  
He was immediately arrested.  While he sat in his cell at the county jail he looked drunkenly at his hands.  He felt like he never had before, like nothing could hurt him.  He realized that if he drank before every match he could have this same invincible feeling in the ring.  When he was released he started to train diligently, and by that I mean drink often.  He quickly climbed his way back through the amateur ranks and found himself as the lead contender for the belt.  This would surely be his toughest fight yet so he tried to get super drunk.  His trainer pleaded with him to stop drinking fearing for his safety, so Mike dismissed his trainer saying that he already had two trainers, Jack Daniels and Jose Cuervo.  He stumbled confidently into the ring and the bell rang.  Seconds into the fight, Mike was caught with a upper-cut and found himself horizontal above the ring. 
(Cue the Music)
(Right click and open in new window)
"What a Day for a Daydream" by The Lovin' Spoonful plays as Mike falls in slow motion, looking around at all of the faces in the crowd.  He has a goofy smile on his face, not having any idea where he is.  His trainer ends up coming back and helps him win the title somehow, I haven't written the whole movie yet, just wanted to set up the song.






Friday, January 21, 2011

The Road Less Traveled (is rarely plowed)


The Adventures of Richard Garrettson
Chapter Five
The Darkest Hour

Richard walked into the country club like he had every summer and went to talk to the club manager, Mr. Grey.  Richard knew that he would get the job because he had been a reliable worker in previous years, but to his dismay, Mr. Grey wasn't there.  He walked up to the pool to investigate, perhaps if one of the pool or snack bar managers was there he could talk to them.  He found Sam, the pool manager. He explained his situation and asked if he could have his old post back at the tiki bar.  It was his understanding that he would start on memorial day bar tending.  
Memorial day came and when he showed up, there were already two girls working the tiki bar.  Assuming that they were over-staffing the pool for the memorial day rush, he took his post behind the bar.  The two girls seemed surprised that Richard was there, given that there were already two people doing a job that can easily be handled by one, but he didn't let that deter him, he was back at his post, tiki-bar-tending.  
Minutes later Sam came down and sent him home, he was apparently supposed to come in the day after memorial day to get his schedule.  
When he got his schedule, he was only working twice a week, and as nice as that would be, it was no way to get back into a working routine.  He ran into Mr. Grey and asked if there was any way he could get some more hours.
"Do you really want to work?" said Grey.
"Sure do!" replied Richard, thinking that he meant at the tiki bar.
"Good! meet me at the clubhouse tomorrow at 7 a.m. to start with the house crew," ordered Grey.
Richard wondered what he would be doing with the house crew but before he could ask, the conversation was over and he found himself walking back to his car.  7 a.m. was early, but how bad could it be?
He arrived at 7 the next morning and by 7:13 he knew how bad it could be.  It turned out that the house crew sets up for every event that happens at the country club; weddings, graduation parties, concerts.  On his first day Richard was taught how to set up the dance floor, then left to do it on his own.  He set up many-a-dance floor in the following weeks and with each forty pound slab he screwed into place he hoped, that in some small way, someone would hurt themselves on the dance floor that night.
Vacuuming was a big part of Richard's workload.  It was tedious, but sweeping up candy wrappers that young country club patrons threw on the floor had its own sort of, quiet dignity.  Throughout the endless hours of vacuuming, the song, While My Guitar Gently Weeps, by The Beatles became the soundtrack for Richard's day.  He was stopped by a co-worker once because they had already swept the room that he was working on, but there were crumbs visibly scattered on the floor.  "I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping... While my guitar gently weeps." Richard would think.  Another time the vacuum was laboring because he was using the hardwood floor setting on a carpeted room, unaware that vacuums had settings, and was quickly set straight by a different co-worker.  "With every mistake, I must surely be learning... While my guitar gently weeps." Richard sang to himself.
His schedule was the real kicker.  He had Monday and Tuesday off, then he worked every other day from 7 a.m. until 3:30 p.m., usually later.  So if he would ever partake in social events with his friends, or take Begonia out on a date, he did so with the knowledge that he would be waking up at 6 the following morning.  This simply could not go on.  In a last ditch effort to continue on with the country club, he worked out a deal so that a couple days a week, he could work the morning shift on the house crew, then finish up the afternoon tending to the tiki bar.  This managed to keep him from taking his own life with the vacuum cord, but working the weekend mornings was too much for him.  He searched every job option available to him and decided to re-apply to a job at a local pharmacy with his friend Kevin.  He had applied a couple of months earlier and didn't hear back, but when he saw the HELP WANTED sign still hanging in the window, he gave it another shot.  He talked to the manager and set up an interview using his cell phone while he was hauling garbage up to the burn pile at the country club and minutes later he was in Mr. Grey's office putting in his two weeks notice.  He finished his sentence and was finally free from the worst job he ever had.  It was like the escape in the movie, Shawshank Redemption. He had to crawl through a couple of weeks of a poopy sewer job, but in the end he came out of the other side clean.  Well, pretty clean, even though Andy Dufresne flopped into a little creek and it was raining, I'm sure he still washed his hands before eating.
Richard's interview went well and he and his new manager decided that whenever he got back from his family vacation, he would start his new job as a pharmacy delivery driver.  
  


Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Keystone State of Mind

"Bucking Ham Palace"

The Adventures of Richard Garrettson
Chapter Four
"Unemployed and Fat as Shit"

Richard returned home, out of work, and out of shape.  Without realizing it, he let his weight balloon to over 230 pounds.  He had more chins than a Chinese phonebook has pages.  After taking a couple of days to rest and reacquaint himself with his Pittsburgh friends, (glug, glug, glug) he kicked into gear and got to work.  He got a membership at the local rec center and worked out every morning.  After he finished, he would come home and lock himself in his room, drawing and writing until dinner.  When his website went live, it had several pages that he updated daily.  One for the latest cartoon, one for caricatures of friends and family, and a page where he wrote a humorous advice blog.  After a couple of weeks he realized that some people were actually checking it.  
Things were good again.  Richard spent his days doing the thing that he loved and people were actually responding to it.  For awhile the routine went on.  Five days a week something went up on that blog.  There wasn't necessarily a new cartoon each day but there would at least be some form of blog entry.  This was truly a golden age of cartooning.
Then one weekend, he planned one of his excursions.
On Thursday, after he had finished his blog, he posted that he would be out of the office on Friday and there wouldn't be an entry.  People can't possibly expect him to do one everyday can they?!  But he wasn't letting the readers down, he was letting himself down.
Since he started the website he held himself to a high standard daily, and once he took one day off, why not another? And another...
Soon he wasn't a struggling cartoonist, just an unemployed bum.  Barely able to muster the energy to draw a bath, let alone a cartoon, or even a cartoon of a guy in a bath, lifting little tiny weights with a caption reading: the bath of least resistance. (Hey that's not bad!)  
Spring was coming and as the weather got warmer, Richard realized that he would soon have to find a job.  For years he worked the summers as a tiki-bartender for a country club and he decided that he would try to get that job back as he clawed his way up into the working world.  
He had no idea what Fortuna's cruel wheel had in store for him...

Monday, January 17, 2011

The End of the Kona Ice Saga


This certainly makes me want to join the wrestling team!

The Adventures of Richard Garrettson
The Kona Days
Vol III "The Final Run"

Fall arrived, and with it came El Nino.  The snow cone business that relies on sunny days and overheated children was crippled by the cold temperatures and rain.  Richard was working three days a week if he was lucky and on his days off, he was stuck inside.  The bee population in North America was dropping, and Richard liked to think it was partly thanks to him.  
Times were dark.  The sought after Saturday shifts at the flag football field, turned into boring, cold, pointless endeavors.  You know the saying, "He's so good, he could sell ice to an eskimo."  I think it should be, "He's so good, he can sell a snow cone to a blonde Texas housewife during El Nino, who isn't used to the cold so she doesn't dress warmly enough and when she sees a snow cone truck with a cartoon penguin on it, thinks she ought to ask if they sell hot cocoa, then gets indignant when they don't, and feels that she should tell the salesman that no one is going to buy a snow cone on a day like this, as if he is out there selling snow cones by choice and not because his boss told him to."
Richard was ready for a change.  The Kona experience was a great adventure but it was a temporary solution that was coming to an end.  Richard and Begonia would soon be on their way back to Pittsburgh and the Kona Crew would find new members in the spring.
The long car ride back gave the couple plenty of time to talk about their hopes and dreams.  Begonia talked about different jobs she would like to have and cities she would like to live in, Richard talked about cartoons.  He decided that when he got home, he would create a website to display his portfolio to the world.  He would then send the link to his website to newspapers and magazines and before long he would be the most influential cartoonist of our generation probably.  They got back to Pittsburgh, Richard bought a tablet so he could play around with drawing digitally, and he got back to the  drawing board, A.K.A. his desk.


Friday, January 7, 2011

Professional Cartoonist

I am proud to announce that today, after the PayPal transaction goes through, I will be a professional cartoonist!  I was commissioned by someone outside my family to draw the following...
Commissioned by Matt Huelsenbeck
Now that I am a paid contributor to the art world you may notice a few changes in me.  When people ask what I do, I will no longer say that I am a delivery driver for a pharmacy.  I will say that am an artist as I look off into the distance.  I will no longer wear jeans that aren't skinny, or shirts that aren't VERY deep V-necks.  To keep my neck warm from now on I will use scarfs and when referring to things I don't like I will use words like, "trite."  
Sincerely,
- `Garet

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

First 'toon of 2011

Newest 'Toon

Forgive me Father for I have sinned.  It has been two months since my last cartoon (watch children didn't count).  I strayed from my normal cartooning schedule due to an influx of caricature orders for Christmas. The patrons got their orders in plenty early but like I did for so many years of schooling, I waited until the last minute and had to work my little buns off to get them finished.  During those sessions I was in a very dark place, and there was no way I could muster up the energy to draw a good ol' fashioned 'toon.  But I am happy to say that I am taking a hiatus from caricatures and I am ready to get back to work.

I hope to finish the adventures of Richard Garrettson within the next two weeks.  There are only two more chapters to go and you do not want to miss the surprise ending, trust me.  


And now the latest creative writing sample submitted by CR...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Burdens a-plenty

 Tereesa was not a woman who shied away from taking advantage of others, and she thought that she had the perfect money making plan...to pose as a struggling art collector.

The plan was simple...go around and befriend local struggling artists, playing on their “struggling artist” sensitivities to weasel them into selling their art for dirt cheap. Once she could confirm that she had a lion’s share of their work, she would see to it that the artist would die of a drug overdose.

Next came the hype campaign; posting positive anonymous comments online about the late artists’ work, inquiring of the masses whether anyone knew where her or his work could be acquired. After a few dozen posts, and the inevitability of one or more morning news shows catching wind of and reporting on the story of an artist overdosing on drugs, she would casually produce works for sale.

She implemented the plan with a dexterity of mind attributable to her ability to forget about those whom she was trampling underfoot in her race to early retirement. As an analogy, Tereesa was to the art world what DeBeers is said to be to the diamond market...the monopoly that controls prices, taking the customer to the ringer.

The only problem, as is often the case with greedy sociopaths, was that she kept collecting. Before long, the long arm of the law had her in its grasp, through a few deft maneuvers, including planting a “struggling artist” in a nearby city for her to prey upon. (While those of you who watch Cops may wonder if Tereesa asked, “Are you a cop?” before buying any of the art, consider the following: 1) remember that this question seems to be quite useless, as deception works in favor of the righteous as well as the morally suspect, and a cop who had ANY training would hopefully say “no” in response to this ridiculous question; and, 2) she needed to befriend the artist, not make her or him suspicious, so the employment of this strategy would not at all have been efficacious.)

After a somewhat lengthy trial and conviction proceeding, and in defense of her unseemly employment, Tereesa was heard mumbling something about the power of the free market as she was escorted out of the courtroom to her jail cell.

Catching as much of what Tereesa had said as is relayed here, and waiting until she was far enough away to do her no harm even if she tried, the dull prosecutor yelled in a rather inappropriate manner above the din of the courtroom, “Not so tough without your free market magic, are ya?!?” The pundits would later remark, not without a bit of hyperbole to drive ratings, that ne’er had a more confusing rejoinder been issued from a prominent personage in a courtroom.

-CR


Friday, December 3, 2010

The Season of the Bees

PSA



The Kona Days
Vol II

As the snow coning went on, the job proved to be harder than Richard initially thought.  It wasn't all just playing cell phone games and watching flag football.  It was driving around the same neighborhoods week after week, stopping the truck for the same little deadbeats every time even though he knew they had no money.  It was dealing with parents who, after ordering eleven snow cones for the kids on their block, tipped him fifty cents, only to ask for it back to pay for kid #12 who, upon further review, brought his own money, leaving the fifty cents unused, and available to re-tip Richard.  
And then, there were the bees... 
The bees that made Richard question his very being, and life, and religion.  Every event that Richard parked at must have been on top of an underground hive because within minutes of serving the first cone, the truck would be swarmed with hundreds of bees, sucking up flavors and landing on the hands and hair of his young customers, sending them squealing back into their parents arms.  But did the bees deter people from ordering their cool treats? Not at all.  They forged through the swarm, pausing to read every single flavor to their kids, and insisting that they get more than one flavor when all their child really wanted was, "a Red one."  It takes a certain kind of person to expect a squirming and sweaty snow cone truck driver to serve them sugar-filled shaved ice through this bee-filled hell on earth.  
The breaking point was reached on a Saturday morning when Richard was working the youth soccer league at, "Silver Creek," or, "Cypress Landing," or whatever the stupid name of the newly developed Texas suburban neighborhood was.  He had just served a small cactus juice snow cone to a golden-haired little boy when one of the hundreds of swarming bees landed right on top of it.  The young lad shrieked and waddled over to his parents dropping the snow cone on the ground in a heap, which was instantly covered with bees. 
That was it.
Richard decided it was either him, or the bees.  He turned on the truck and parked it in a different sector of the parking lot, away from the sugary pile of cactus juice ice.  He fashioned a whacking stick and shield out of cardboard and tape, and prepared for the final battle...
He slid the serving window wide open and allowed the buzzing hoard to enter his domain.  After they were inside slurping syrup, Richard shut the window and watched.  He waited for them to drink their fill,  he watched as their bodies turned the color of the syrup that they chose, they were drunk and clumsy and the only way out of the truck was smashed on a cardboard shield (he quickly discovered that the whacking stick was wildly ineffective due to its small surface area).  Only after he laid waste to each wave of bees would he re-open the serving window to attend to the customers.  Bored kids that were dragged to their siblings' games looked on and cheered as the battle raged.  By the time the soccer games were over and Richard's obligation to sling cone was done, he had killed hundreds of bees.  It's been said that on quiet nights, he can still hear their sickening buzz.
And, whenever he had time he drew 'toons...     
________________________________________________________

Write-in Submission
by: CR

For years, Ms. Colonita had been thinking of Mr. Toilet as the villain (for the record, I do not presume to judge the veracity of her perspective). The reason for this perception was that whenever she would deliver her packages to his place of business (he was a middle man working for the city government), John would throw water at her in proportion to the size of the package delivered.

Given that Urina was compelled to deliver the packages not of her own volition (she was delivering ‘packages to nowhere’...just one of many manifestations of the government’s attempts to jolt the economy back into it’s pre-recession form), she grew increasingly upset with John at what seemed to be his knee-jerk reaction to package delivery, thinking to herself, “How unfair for him to splash the messenger”.

Over the years, she had begun to plot her revenge. She decided on a plan that would involve delivering as large a package as she could manage, hoping to clog up John’s operations (friends recall her mumbling under her breath, “I’m going to murder Mr. Toilet”). The day had finally arrived...she was poised...she made the delivery and sure enough the package did it’s job, shutting down his business for a week.

Feeling vindicated, she “celebrated” by taking some much needed R&R, telling herself that she deserved the break, when in reality she had no choice but to relax, as she had cleared out her warehouse of its supplies and would have to wait for restocking to occur before resuming her work anyway.  

As it turns out, the package almost crushed John, requiring resetting of broken bones, stitches, IVs and many other intervention techniques to save his life. As is often the case in these situations, Ms. Colonita was caught by the county police and charged with attempted murder. While sitting in prison awaiting her trial, Ms. Colonita started throwing up blood. She was rushed to the doctor’s and was diagnosed as having ruptured her lungs, attributable only to the extraordinary exertion undertaken during her revenge.

Long story short, she died in the hospital, asking her family to remember her for the war she waged against incivility.

After the trial was dismissed, Mr. Toilet was allowed to appear on many morning news shows to tell his side of the story (up until then he had, on the counsel of his counsel, been asked to remain out of the media spotlight). In response to the question: “If you could speak to her now, what would you say to Ms. Colonita?” he replied, “I would say to her that I wished she would have taken my perspective, as I, much like everyone else, am just a messenger. The water was nothing more than an unfortunate but necessary manifestation of the first law of thermodynamics”.

The journalist closed by pondering, in a manner that many later remarked had lacked the appropriate level of sensitivity toward Urina and her family...“In the end, it seems that the old adage, ‘assumptions make an ass out of you and me’  stands intact. Indeed, who’s the ass now?”
-CR


Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Chapter 3

The Adventures of Richard Garrettson
Chapter 3: The Kona Days
Vol I
Richard searched for other jobs to supplement his part-time exterminator income.  He put his resume on Monster.com and checked in with a few of his previous employers.  As he was talking to the manager of a country club he worked at in past summers, he remembered an offer he received while visiting his friends in Austin, Texas.  His friend, Sigmund Pickler (Sig Pi for short), owns a snow cone truck franchise and mentioned to Richard that if he was ever free, he could drive a U-Haul down to Texas carrying two freezers from up North for a nice little payday.  Not having any luck in his job search, Richard called Siggy to see if the offer was still on the table.
Not only was the offer still available, Sig told Richard that he could really use another driver for his fleet.    As great as the plan sounded, Richard knew that he couldn't make a this decision without talking it over with his girlfriend, Begonia.  To his surprise, she instantly loved the idea and agreed to travel down to Texas and learn the snow cone trade with him.
They were all set.  They packed up Richard's tan Corolla and hit the road.  With an overnight stop in Memphis, the twenty-three hour drive took two days.  They arrived at their new place, said hello to their new roommates, and went over to the warehouse to learn their new vocation.  The other members of the team included Richard's old friends Andrew "Bacon" Elgie, and Vin Hasty.  Richard and Begonia learned the basic principles of ice-shaving and flavor-pouring before going back to the townhouse for some much needed rest.  The real fun started in the morning.
Siggy put Richard and Begonia on the road together for their first day.  He taught them the right speed and pace to use around the neighborhoods and sent them out to bring in some money.  Richard loved it.  He was out and about in a strange new city, driving a snow cone truck and rocking out to religious songs that were remade using steel drums (to give them an island feel).  It was a fun job, he had three great new roommates, and his girlfriend was happy, things were going just fine.
He had to run to IKEA to get a cheap little desk so that though it all, he could keep drawing cartoons...

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Chicken Cacciatore


The Adventures of Richard Garrettson
Chapter 2: The Destruction of Termite City

       After graduation, Richard wasn't ready to jump right back into school.  He decided to work for a year or so before applying to law school so he could save some money.  His friend, Preston, worked for his brother in the summer doing termite treatments to houses.  Preston suggested that Richard work with him for the summer and Richard jumped at the opportunity.  He would get to work outside, he would log around forty hours a week and he got to work with his friend.  
       The process was simple, drill holes at one foot intervals around the house, pump insecticide into the holes, and patch them up.  Richard was the drill man.  Drilling was a harder assignment than pumping, but there was something satisfying about using that big-ass drill to break through the cement.  
       Life was simple; wake up, drill holes, fake laugh at the customer's awful jokes, (They ought-a call this place termite city huh?!) drive around and go home.  Richard was making money and aside from a few busted knuckles caused by the dreaded, "drill backfire," his body was no worse for wear.  
       Then came the Fall.  Business slowed and there weren't enough jobs to keep both guys busy full-time, so Richard received a notice via e-mail.  His manager informed him that he would be switched to part-time, two days a week, and if he wanted to look for new jobs that she would understand.  That was it... the termites had won.
       So he rambled on looking for his next adventure and through it all, he drew more cartoons.

"Spicy Romance" 
by: Cam

I recently went to a Taco Bell to grab a bite to eat. As it had been a
long time since I had been to that fast food establishment, the sauce
greetings were new to me. As I went to grab the first sauce, I noticed
that the sauce was asking me for my hand in marriage. I found myself
telling the sauce that I was already engaged.


After exhausting the first packet on my food, I reached for another
one, which again asked for my hand in marriage. I thought to myself,
"this bitch is assertive", saying again that I was not interested,
given that I was currently taken (I did thank her, saying, "you
flatter me with your persistence"). Finishing the second packet, I
found that I needed at least three more packets to provide thorough
coverage of my meal.

The next one I grabbed asked me if we had met before. "Indeed we have.
In fact you have just asked me to marry you twice." Thinking that my
saucy mistress had significant trouble forming short and long-term
memories, I was pleased that her fancy for me was not short lived, but
rather had some staying power (no doubt due to my stunning good
looks). Beyond that, I was pleased that I had not hastily rushed out
of a perfectly good marriage into one that would have been doomed from
the start given her cognitive impairments and her sole reliance on one-liners.

Growing hungry, I decided to stop loading the sauce onto my meal. As I
ate, I contemplated the strange day, and it slowly dawned on me that I
had made a terrible mistake...I was not interacting with one memory
impaired suitor, but quintuplets (remember that, growing hungry, I had
not yet met the two others who were still in the bag)! I promptly
apologized to the three of the quintuplets with whom I had interacted,
expressing my embarrassment at having made such a mistake. They were
gracious though, saying that they had grown used to it. Quickly
recovering my wits, I said, "indeed I would imagine so, given your
striking phenotypic similarities".

During the awkward silence that ensued, I bid my farewell, telling them
that I needed to get back to work, and they agreed that they should be
going too.

We parted ways amicably enough.

Reflecting on the experience, I realize that the truth is indeed often
stranger than fiction...