ST

Boy, he looks happy, I bet a real nice thing just occured.

R.I.P.

White Horse 1977-2005

It was a big white Cadillac that I grew very attached to.

It was won in a raffle, in the summer of 99.
It was driven to coast to coast 5 times, and had accrued 60,000 of it’s 107,000 miles in the 6 years I owned it.
It passed the 100k mark in 2001, just outside of Portland, Oregon, at the end of what I swore would be the last long trip I would take it on. It was junked in Queens in 2005.

It wouldn’t start. The battery was dead, it needed a new head gasket. A headlight was out as well as a tail light. Along with that, the power steering was out, the air conditioner pump clutch was shot, the back seat got a puddle in it when it rained, the cd player rarely worked, and the electrical was screwed, so most controls were jury-rigged switches. The door locks were messed up, the passenger being unable to unlock her own door. None of the doors could be unlocked if the passenger was using the lights in the vanity mirror. The cruise control worked for a mile or two until it just began accelerating without end. The front bumper was pushed in due to a recent traffic smash-up. The front tires were so out of alignment that the front left tire got became bald in about 3000 miles. It got 4mpg in the city. There was no exhaust system past the converter ( an elected feature, though). The brakes were never fully bled, and since the rotors weren’t resurfaced the last time I replaced the pads, it went through the pads in about 10,000 miles. It leaked a quart of oil every two tanks of gas. Its third tranny was on it’s way out. It leaked oil, power steering fluid (even after there was no power steering), tranny fluid, and the ancient wiper fluid was brown, the pump never worked. It sometime leaked water, when the trunk would fill up during a rain. The vacuum system would often fail. The e-brake was only used for emotional reasons, it did not function. The gas gauge worked 50% of the time. The spring detent thing on the driver door died somehow, making the 300 pound door a bit of a hazard. The side mirror pointed at the ground, permanently. Rust was invading. It would not work at all below about 20 degrees.
In the time I had it, I paid for the tranny to be replaced twice. I paid for new wheel bearings, rear rotors, ignition switch, and a couple of front suspension components to be installed. Myself I put new u-joints in. I also put in a new master cylinder, new alternator, new pads, new heater core, new stereo, new fuel pump, a cherry bomb, various new switches, and a new wiper motor
The list of trim pieces, door handles, upholstery malfunctions and electrical curiosities is too long to remember. The hood was dented due to parade misuse. There were minor dents, caused my me, on three other body panels. The steering wheel pulled hard to the left, but when brakeing it pulled hard to the right, which combined with the lack of power steering, was incredibly dangerous. It needed the carb rebuilt, as well as a new harness.
It never once overheated, aside from a minor problem with the heater core, the coolant system never once even needed attention.
Of course it had a major short, requiring me to unhook the battery every time I parked it.

On Good Friday I went out to see if couldn’t get it to come back to life with a new battery, get it working for the coming good weather with the hope of some weekend trips. I found it sadly misused, it had been dented on many panels, the grill totally kicked in. There was glass all over the seats and the sidewalk and the contents of the glove compartment were strewn about. All the paper work was missing, though the cd player, which rested on the floor, not actually attached to anything but wires, remained.

The next day I walked out to it with a box, I retrieved everything I could find, some photos, some nail polish, the chili peppers dangling from the rearview. I yanked off the hood ornament, every Cadillac logo I could find I took, I removed the deVille d’Elegance script off the glove compartment. I found that every trim item I wanted to remove pretty much fell off in my hands, I used no tools. The tow truck driver was and hour and a half late, so I just sat there, listening to the Acela whip by over head.
It was the first almost warm day, the sunlight was warm.
The tow truck driver was a Chinese man, who brought in his ancient tow truck his wife and four children. As soon as the tow truck arrived they all poured out and chased each other and laughed, in the street, in the sunshine. He gave me his swiss army knife to remove the plates. He said, “Sorry I’m late” then “do you have the keys” and then in response to me, “no, that’s all, thanks”. I took my box and walked away. They must have driven down 46th street, as they did not pass me on my walk home.

Skull Thursday number four-tee billion

Lactic, yet vegetal.

Uh oh, looks like Fatty McBoyfriend here spent all weekend playing video games, totally forgetting he told his girlfriend that this was going to be a special weekend. See, he spent all last weekend playing video games instead of spending any time all with his girlfriend. He said, "Honey, I've been waiting for months for this game to come out, next weekend will be special, I swear."

EDIT!!!- This isn't about me!! Jesus! I AM NOT FAT, and I only play video games when she is at work!!

in8

This comic appeared about 60% of the way through a very XtreemDrunk weekend.

I am so cool. 

There will be no transcript!!

Skull Thursday

Jarmy here hails from Northframpton, and he wishes you a big ole "come alive"! 

IN NUMBAR SEVREN

Wow, I am really getting the hang of the this cartooning thing.
Also, what hell is UP with all this theme, people?

Transcript:
Frame 1:
Murry Marlow (Host): "Tonight, we have two guests, Luke Perry and Joe Cocker"
Frame 2:
Host: "the first question is for luke, Do you have a nickname for your penis?"
Frame 3:
Luke Perry: "Joe Cocker"
Host and Joe Cocker, simultaneously:"What?"

An autoliterary adventure...

IN number 6 or 7 or whatever will arrive later today, i am feeling a little unneccasary at the moment. For now I have a challenge for all you faithless readers out there. I will select the best entry over a mug of Hornitos, and the winner will recieve seven dollars and whatever's left on my back-up metrocard.
The Challenge:
Write an medium length book (700-900 pages) garnering great critical acclaim.
The subject of the book will be the life story of the scion of some great old european family with countless royal tendrils. The protaganist will be male and will amass fortune and power that humbles even the greatest of his forefathers. The chapters of this book will be named after the various product lines (internally referred to as "Collections") of the watchmaker Vacheron Constantin, and will be in the following order:
1:Kalla
2:Egerie
3:Overseas
4:1972
5:Malte
6:Royal Eagle
7:Patrimony

Skull Thursday

Well due to a firestorm of complaints regarding the tardiness of this week's Skull Thurday, this is all you're getting:

I swear, if I hear one more complaint, I will put the blind to your eyes.
I am not made of skulls.
Peace Out.
Much love.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
TTFN
We are, Yours, Etc.,
Eb3mnlt "OK, my bad" Pinch-Crimp, Larry Obeloiden "Whitey Two-Tone" von Genschelar Forney.
Signed this March Eleven, at Twenty Five before the Noon, in the year 2005 anno domini.
Long Island City, New York City Borough of Queens, Queens County, The State of New York in These United States of America.

Cat Names

Now I'll admit that for us jaded New Yorkers, a celebrity sighting is really no big deal. I am always runnning into SJP at the local Sally's, Vince Vaughn at the Planned Parenthood, or even Mark Levinson at Craft. And us Jaded New Yorkers are used to partying with Interpol on a sunday, getting our eyes waxed by the drummer from Dungen on moving L train, or just kicking back with Ana Mendieta on a thursday, paper cutting our thighs with bad reviews out of the latest issue of CRAMP. But, even a JADED NEW YORKER is forced to take a moment to reflect when they get the chance to share a drink with a true Movie Star. You JADED! GODDAMNED! NEW YORKERS! won't even be able to roll all of your eyes now, you know who i am talking about.
Elvis Costello!
Yes, he lives in my building, and the other night at the bottom of the garbage chute we were scraping out our shoes, and we got a chance to talk about the weather, and to wear our night-glasses. I wanted the conversation to contintue so i ate garbage (mid-town chaat, not bad) and acted jaded. The conversation ran it course, hitting at least five seperate Times Magazine topics (one from 97!), and what do you know? He let me have his garbage. Even a jaDEDNEwyorKeR, has to say "I love this town", now and then.
Anyways, i have to run, the tea-pot is whistling the theme song from Our Own Boat (fave show) and my cat Sheigh-Lay-Ogg (Celtic for "faraway whiskers"), is trying to get my other cat, Madison, out of the Bose.

IN NUMBER SIXTH

This is a Real Downtown Bar Napkin Scratching!

Transcript:
Text: "Larger Than Life"
Coloration sub-text: Au Jus

Note:The image has been digitally enhanced to accentuate au jus.

Here in New York

We are encouraged, through ads, to stop smoking, to be nicer to each other, to not go crazy and kill ourselves, not to help the homeless, not to litter, not to run or be discourteous in the subway station, to attend classes, to support the Olympic efforts, etc.
I have a similar, PSA-esque request. Having lived in NYC for 7 months now I have noticed a peculiar, odeous, and unsanitary problem here.

New Yorkers, Please Stop Shitting Your Pants Prior to Shopping at Duane Reade.

Skull Thursday

This one is a Cro-Lesbian from the Late Piezozioc Era. This era happened billion longer ago in history than the present day. Before Applebee's, before ice cream. All they had was guitars, guitars and fire, they were forces to survive on tar and cacti. The Cro-Lesbian were also forced to endure fierce competition for resources from the Holmgreen's. This competition was not to subside until the co-invention of the Refridgerator and the Franchise.

"One for each, each for one."
-Earlron "Crobar Snakes" Crabcrafter Jr. Miss, Gladmiral of the Cro-Lesbian Navy and Vanguard of Attleboro's Balfour Champions.

NOTE: Click on the picture for an Image of Christo's Beautiful "Gates" Project, surrounded by Snow-Fall in New York City.

Here in town

I utilize many services...
Grampy Cramps Nut Butters, Frozen Wastes Packet and Tramp Line, K-Maro's Violent Solutions LLC., North Store Crime Waivers, The Jambly Ramblers' Lawn Care n' Fight Service, J'Tem Du Suisse Y Morose LTD., Pollo y Mas Supplies, Prawn King Holdings, Eddies' Dockering and Portable Tie-Down Demos.
I enjoy eating out and drinking in bars....
Double Sour, on Steinway. "It's on the sour"
La Cuisine Plastique, on Ditmars. "This is to eat"
That Beer Hole, on 28th Ave. "Come in , you're done"
Crow Brothers, on 35th Ave. "Take thiis way to minefields cuz freedome's not worth the gravy(?)"
Mama Now's Time to Eat, on Newtown Road. "Home of the the 'WTF Chowderhorn', open 'til shut up"

IN No. Five