The Secret Life of Steven Seagal by Mat Barton and Adam Cooper for SANTORO comicsworkbook COMPOSITION COMPETITION 2013.
I adore this and I can’t believe there aren’t more notes.
In October I moved into a small office on the top floor of the building where I work. I’m by myself in there, which makes up for the size of the room. But once every four weeks, I’m visited by two ladies who need access to a small closet on the other side of my desk.
As I mentioned, I’m on the top floor. So by the time these ladies arrive, they’re usually out of breath and in no mood for conversation. They just come in, grumble about the fact that this shouldn’t be their job, then leave with a stack of small white boxes each.
The whole thing is very cartoonish — and usually over quickly.
This morning I heard them approaching, breathing, grumbling. In a jovial mood, I decided I’d actually say something less generic than “Good morning.” So when they entered, I said it…
I said: “What’s the matter, ladies? Is it that time of the month again?”
At the time of posting, I have not yet been contacted by Human Resources.
Test driving a car - a 2014 Impala - dash board / information/ radio controls are pretty out there. 2 Chainz was playing (a CD?) ‘My Birthday” - listened for a few seconds and wondered why people get paid to do this nonsense. Unable to turn off the radio, but able to mute it. Test drove for a while. Inexplicably un-muted it as “Crack” was playing - well that was strange enough where I couldn’t stop listening. Next track - “The Old Dope Peddler” started with a snippet of the beginning of the song by Professor Tom Lehrer (in his style, but not sampled). All too soon I was back in the hanger.
The tl;dr version? My dad spent part of his morning cruising around in an Impala, listening to 2 Chainz.
Behold the beauty that is- Kissing Cuzzins: A Very KC Christmas! This is the only holiday track your going to need, but because we here at splattercat records want to fill your ipod or walkman or whatever the fuck you kids listen to music on anymore up to the brim with christmas cheer, we’re going to be posting a new song every day (maybe more if this blog lets me) until Christmas, or until we run out of songs. Whichever comes first. Stay tuned, jerks, and until next time, rock out or whatever with Kissing Cuzzins!
Then there was that time Chris and I made a gimmicky Christmas rap song, complete with Jeff Goldblum references and an autotuned chorus.
I joined Nextdoor after my wife and I bought our house in August. I figured it would be a good way for us to connect with our new community without actually having to talk to anyone. But after a while it just became another mailing list I belonged to — filled with updates from people I don’t know about stuff I don’t care about.
I was getting ready to delete my account when yesterday’s edition hit my inbox. For once, it contained some information very relevant to my interests…
A comment on the “Delivery Packages” thread revealed that one of my wife’s Christmas presents (a gift from my sister) had been stolen off our porch. Now, knowing my sister — and my own general aloofness — we probably wouldn’t have noticed it was missing until Christmas Day. But thanks to Nextdoor, we were able to contact CB2 (the company that sells the bookends my wife wants) in time to get a replacement order shipped out.
This is a far cry from what I’d call a “Christmas miracle,” but I’m happy nonetheless that my wife will be able to open her boring-ass gift next Wednesday. NO THANKS TO YOU, FEDEX.
Turkey Rap, extended edition. Happy Thanksgiving y’all.