The First 48

At the time of this writing, I am forty-eight years old. Earlier on this day, forty-eight years ago, I emerged into this universe at something like eleven pounds.

A few notes:

  • I’ve been wearing a mask in the post office and the grocery store, but not on the walk over to either. There’s no hard proof that it makes any difference, plus it’s in the upper 80’s here in north Georgia, and I don’t want to self-waterboard with my own sweat.
  • Speaking of which, have you ever heard of Sketch Paree? He was a villain in the 1940’s Dick Tracy comic strip. He even made it into the kids’ cartoon version of the 1960’s, which is hilarious because he was originally an insane fashion designer who drowned people by mashing their face into his huge, horrific sponge mask. I think of Sketch every time I have to run errands in blazing heat with a cloth doodad on my kisser, so as not to rustle any Karens’ jimmies.
from July 4, 1949.
  • Chester Gould was a year older than I am now when he drew the above comic strip. He was born in 1900, so you can easily determine his age from the year. He was 31 when he first became syndicated, after ten years of trying. Think about that, huh?
  • Because, on a semi-daily basis, I bravely visit the local grocery store (where ground beef is now nine dollars a pound), I acquired a very fine birthday tiramisu.
(Regular birthday cakes were like ten bucks.)
  • Even though I will very probably consume an entire tiramisu tonight before crying alone in the darkness, do not take me for an “incel”. I just haven’t found the right woman to break quarantine with yet. My involuntary sexlessness is 100% the pandemic’s fault, please DM me for where to send the stimulus check.
  • On a completely unrelated matter, I weigh almost 200 pounds now, the most I’ve ever weighed. If you require proof that I was getting enough exercise before even though I sat at a desk all day, consider the fact that quarantining made me gain fifteen pounds. I’m no doctor, but I bet the tiramisu that I’ve already half-consumed while writing this article will probably slap on another ten.
  • Thanks to a stimulus check, I will be able to get new contacts and eyeglasses for the first time in seventeen years. It would’ve happened sooner, but I had to wait for the place to re-open. Think about that. My only pair of contacts is two leftys that I wore for forty-eight days in jail in 2013. I finally had the funds to get new lenses, and the COVID panic scared the eye place into closing. You know, because of this virus that might not actually be anywhere around us.
  • Once I get new eye gear, I will start making videos again. I am enormously vain, and I don’t like being seen with the glued-together glasses I wore when I got the living shit kicked out of me nine years ago. And I can’t see jack shit with the contacts I have, which, as previously stated, are almost old enough to apply for college.
  • This is my caddish way of admitting that for the past few years, I haven’t being seeing very well.
  • This is the sixth year of this site. Thanks to donations and patronage, it’s all paid up for another year. If you’ve supported me, especially during these cuckoo times, this is all thanks to you. You’re the best.
  • A quarantine is about the worst environment for genuine creativity that you could ask for. Almost all your ideas come second-hand from the internet, and you can’t interact with other people and recharge your social batteries. Don’t beat yourself up if you’re feeling blocked. There’s a weird compulsion to be super-productive while confined that’s tripped a lot of us up. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve had a writer’s block recently that is so horrendous, I’m now telling you to seek help immediately if you feel the slightest bit suicidal. Figure that out.
  • Does this sound like I’m shutting down the site? I’m not. Honest. I’m this close to making a living off of my work again. I’m kind of out of ideas for BIUL strips, but then again I’ve been saying that for twenty years.
  • I just really don’t want to do an anecdotal comic strip about “life during the pandemic”. I tried. It all turns out grim and dystopian. Plus, at the very start of this article, I burned through all my “face mask” material. You want gags about being gagged? Go to Twitter. There are literally a thousand people there right now straining to make jokes about it. Probably way, way more, actually.
  • I think we can all agree that being cooped up and on the internet all the time has done no one any favors. Think of all the famous people whose names and faces you’d rather never see again. It’s mind-boggling, isn’t it? How many people have you had to excise from your life, for the sake of your own sanity? (I don’t mean your friends, for fuck’s sake don’t dump friends over some stupid political nonsense.)
  • On top of the tiramisu and a big birthday dinner, I also consumed an entire nine-ounce can of party peanuts. I may have developed an eating disorder.
  • I’m grateful to have survived another year in this bizarro timeline alongside you all. The best is yet to come, there’s nowhere to go but up, all that. (Providing I don’t eat myself to death, or have a massive myocardial infarction.) Thanks as always for your patronage.
  • Don’t worry. Plenty of stuff won’t be behind a paywall. Like these plagiarized “yo momma” jokes:
  • Yo momma’s so broke, she couldn’t even pay attention.
  • Yo momma’s so fat she wakes up in sections.
  • Yo momma’s so fat, black holes get sucked into her.
  • Yo momma’s so dumb, she thought Taco Bell was the Mexican phone company.
  • Yo momma’s so fat, her favorite food is seconds.
  • Yo momma’s so fat, she’s caused millions of dollars in property damage.
  • Yo momma’s so dumb, she was driving to Disneyland, and she saw a sign that said “Disneyland Left”, so she went home.
  • For real, Disneyland did leave though. GOOD NIGHT!

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