basement page one

Damn... First off, let's talk about yesterday. Saint Patrick's day. What a day it was! First, Dani calls me a dick and runs back to NYC (I'm an even bigger dick for not trying to change her mind), and from the phone call today, I can see that things aren't getting any better. . . . Then, on my way to Matt and Lauren's apartment (to treat myself to a few self-pity-beers), some dude gets thrown off the fourth floor of their apartment only to end up dying slowly in the back of an ambulance. A few minutes after they left, Matt and I got pictures of the head-wound-blood and the drop - I'll be posting those shortly. And then of course there was the car accident I was involved in (though I was not driving) - which I'd really not rather talk about, so as not to incriminate myself. Let's just say that I WAS in the driver's seat when the cop pulled up - but he was really nice and didn't notice my slight intoxication. It would seem that the UDPD has better things to do than bust a 21yr-old white guy with a valid license and registration. Either that, or it was the luck 'o the Irish - haha . . . I shouldn't laugh.

I really do think my life is falling apart, though... And it seems so tragic now that I'm breaking into comics after five years of submitting my work. I look around and realize I really have nothing. And I'm such a pussy when it comes to emotions, too. I run away at the first sign of depression. And if I'm depressed? I just wall that shit up so no one can see it. I don't live in reality. But that's me. It's who I am. I set fire to bridges left and right and I don't know why. Also, I'm not a pack-rat, so I hardly own anything. I have a couch-bed, a drawing table, a stereo, a gameboy color, my guitar and amplifier - and a bunch of star wars action figures. That's all. Sad, right? I'm broke as fuck. I have a bullshit job at the moment. I smoke. I eat for shit. I don't get enough sleep. I need to see a dentist about this toothache I've had for almost a year. I can't keep my marriage together. I'm cocky. I'm selfish. I'm lazy.... At least I still have my good looks, tho.

Beer number three. I should be in bed by now, 'cause I gotsta wake up at 5am. Well, I also have to write something, as I haven't in half a month. By the way, I turned 21 on the 15th. Thanks to all the guys and girls that sent words - you know who you are. For my birthday, I treated myself to 20-some Star Wars action figures that were on clearance at Toys R Us for under two bucks each! Damn those manic childhood urges! I'll even admit to buying a few lightsabers at 5 dollas a piece! Why? Well, when the weather is right, there's nothing more fun than breaking into the State Parks after sundown and running through the trees, fighting friends with glowing plastic swords. Am I a dork? The fuck I care... Smoke some dope, grab yer lightsaber and meet me in the park at midnight - you'll see what the fuck I'm talkin' about.

Ugh... I also went to the mall on Sunday to buy some clothes for myself (Pants from PacSun, shirts from Gap and Britches - combining that skater/prep look). First of all, I'm an IDIOT for waiting until Sunday to go to the mall. Second of all, I'm an even bigger idiot for bringing Dani. If you're anything like me, you know that shopping is not to take place during the weekend - especially clothes shopping. Me - I usually run in around 3pm on a Wednesday, grab the first things that catch my eye, pay for the shit, and book. There is no trying on shit, there is no browsing, there is no store hopping. I know what I like. I get it. I get the fuck out. Dani can't understand that, and is the opposite shopper. Hey, like I always say - whatever makes you hot - you GO for it... But not if it bugs me.

People can't quite understand their idiocy. It's not something conscious, either, really. Why do I buy the first things that catch my eye? Because I KNOW I'LL END UP BUYING THAT SHIT NO MATTER WHAT ELSE I LOOK AT! It's fucking rule of thumb! You go to a store, you see a shirt, you're "iffy" about the price or some shit, you look the fuck around for two hours ONLY TO BUY THAT FIRST FUCKING SHIRT! And if you DON'T, you'll prolly end up wishing you fucking DID. Now, I know that sometimes you find something after looking for three hours and you say, "Oh, I'm so glad I put off buying that hoody", but you just wasted three fucking hours! And on top of that, you probably only SETTLED for that NEW shirt subconsciously, rationalizing by saying how much better than the other it is. Or maybe you've been looking around for so fucking long that you FORGOT how much COOLER that FIRST hoody was?! Either way, you've just spent too much fucking time clogging up Mall traffic with your bodily presence. You DICK. If you DON'T want to spend mad time at the mall, here are some tips -

b) Shop by yourself. When you bring someone else, chances are it'll get you mad pissed off. Even though you know exactly what you want (you were probably smart and looked at an ad or in a catalog), the other person doesn't have a fucking clue. Best friend, spouse, lover, whatever - they'll piss you off with their, "After we check out Wet Seal, I want to walk all the fucking way to Bebe's, then to Lady Contempo, then I'll have to pee even though there's a huge line for the one toilet that works - and then we can go to 579. Hey, are you hungry too?"

c) Settle for any parking space. Don't be that motherfucker that circles the lot, waiting for one of the people at the front spaces to leave. Hey, asshole! Those people at the front are the same fucking shitheads that are going to be inside the mall until it closes! Give the fuck up! You got LEGS, right?! What's a quarter mile gonna hurt yer dumb ass?! It's GOOD for ya. You could spend two minutes walking to the entrance, or you could sit in your FUCK-UP-MOBILE for half an hour with your turn signal on while the dumb bitch in the too-tight cardigan wrestles with her car door.

d) If you DO decide to go shopping with a partner, and they want to split up and go to another store while they wait for you, MAKE SURE YOU HEAR WHAT THEY SAID before you nod your head. Okay, okay, I fell into this trap. The music was too loud, I was standing in line, and Dani said something while standing at the entrance, poised to leave. I nodded me head and then ended up waiting for twenty minutes outside the store until she came back looking for me (King Of Prussia is a big fucking mall). Oh, that's frustrating.

e) HANGING OUT at the mall is NOT cool. I did it for a couple of years and never really had any fun then (unless we ganked an old lady's wallet or got into fights - or that time Matt bet a couple of guys he could kick their asses at air hockey, lost miserably, and we booked the fuck outta there before they could get their fifty-pound fingers on us. Okay, maybe it is cool. If you're under 18. Once yer legal, you need to find another chill spot. For a couple of summers, we all chilled at this chick's house (we pretty much lived there) cause she let us. Stupid chick... Fun summers... sigh...

So ya see, Malls really suck. Especially if you hate people as much as I do. One more thing before I wrap this up, though... A little TIP for the RETARDED Cashiers of the World! - HEY! When you GIVE ME MY FUCKING CHANGE, it's COINS FIRST, THEN BILLS! Every fucking moron that changes my bills fucks up. They lay the bills in my hand, dump the change in - and I have to crumple up the cash to stop the coins from sliding to the floor. Is it SO FUCKING HARD?! Why don't they TEACH THAT?! I figured it out my second day of cashiering (at one of my fifty jobs). COINS FIRST, THEN BILLS! That way you don't get a pocket full of discombobulated money! I swear they tell cashiers these days to do it on purpose just so customers get ready to convert all their cash to credit.

"Damn am I glad we switched over to a strictly-credit economy! I got real tired of digging through messy pockets for ones and fives!" they'll say. Fuckers. Oh, and to the Sunday drivers - I hope all of your cars blow the fuck up while you and your children are in them. That would knock out about 75% of this country's population right there. How you got your fucking licenses, I'll never know. They should have that on the fucking driving test.

"...I just don't like it when you pretend to be better than everyone else because you're intelligent. That's not how intelligence should be used / to put people down. I hate stupid people just as much as you, but I try not to be as negative as you ... I know you, though. You're just as insecure as the next person. As much as you gloat about your talents, you also doubt them. I think you tend to talk a little too much shit, Jack. ... I'm sorry I said what I said, because I know you don't need to hear it. You probably tell yourself all the time. I do think you're a great cartoonist and a damn good writer. You just need to cool down every time some idiot cuts in front of you at the supermarket, you know? So much aggression ... By the way, I love what you're doing with Ada." - Isabel in an email 01.28.00

This is the problem with what you're doing: is it sex or is it serious story? It can be both... as long as there is a lot of sex. And it sounds like issue 2 ain't gonna have a lot of it... Don't get me wrong. I'm all for good story, not enough of it in x comics. But this is a little more like Julie Doucet's work or Crumb's work, it's not sex just for sex. Story is more important... We're walking a fine line here. I need to understand where you want this to be. Sex with a good story or good story with sex. Both would be For Adults but it's like Manara vs Doucet, basically... It gets marketed differently and may sell differently as well. The fact is your art is not really the 'stroke' type but it's got a raw edge that can be a turn-on. Good story with some sex is not what Sizzle is about... Sizzle (and Eurotica/Amerotica) is about good sex with beautiful art (then story ain't so important) or best of all: good sex with good story, like Shadow & Light, Like Undertow and Retreat or Attractive Forces. Your art and theme are closer to our Adventures of Lesbian College School Girl. Story is light and airy but dynamic, art a bit funky and characters delectable, sex-drenched. Sells like hot cakes for years... So where do you REALLY want to go with this?" - Terry at NBM

Aight... I got a couple of beers in me so I'm ready fer this. Are you? Fuck. It's almost been a month since my last Basement Entry. I've been busy, so go fuck yerself! "Busy with what?" you ask? Licking yer mom. Aside from that, I've also been working on a 60pg graphic novel starring Ada Lee. It's half-done the old-school way, and half-done in PhotoShop. This makes me cool. And of course, to support my hungry-artist-ass, I took up a full-time job (06:00-14:30) at a local arts n crafts store - I'm the receiver. I do a lot of work. It's exhausting. But it pays, so eat pubes! Anyway, I wake up at 6 in the AM, come home around 3 in the PM, do a page, eat some shit, and then sleep. Pause and repeat. And repeat... and repeat... right. I'll tell you this much - once I bust into comics with this GN, I'm gonna take my alarm clock out back for a little one-on-one. I'm gonna drop that fucker like a 12yr-old that just called my mom a whore. You see, it's never been my dream to draw comic books. Or to play the guitar, or write that awe-inspiring novel. My dream has always been to live without an alarm clock. Spooky, yes...

I also never want to "work" a day in my life AGAIN. I've held shitty jobs since I was 16, and before that it was shoveling or raking leaves... Balls. I don't want any of that. I'll tell ya this much - when I start makin' that mad-loot, this site will be added-to constantly. Awyea. Speaking of which - have you checked out the TFPublic section? Shout-out to Isabel, fer sending me that "morning after new-years-eve when i was hung-over" pic of herself. Still a cutie. Also some shout-outs to Sassy-Ass, Jade, Ancora, and the rest of the faithful TFPublic. Soon to make an appearance is KT - as soon as I can get this film developed. She's a real cutie, too. You see, the TFPublic not only rep's the UD Thugs and America's greatest zinesters/underground comics artists - but also the Philly-area Cuties as well. Why? Because they're cute, twit! Anyways, I gotsta gets to sleep.

Holidays over yet? ...Snow on the ground, cold in the wind, and spike in tha punch. It's 2001, bitch. Where ya been? I went to a party with friends last night. Had fun. Got crazy-drunk and pissed off the hostess' neighbors when I screamed obscenities at midnight (i.e. - my cock is your mom's new favorite toy, faggots!) All good fun. Cute girls at the party. A couple. And then, I got drunk, and MORE SHOWED UP... Go figure. Well, no one actually arrived... beer goggles just have fun. But the whole night I was hip to hip with one girl in particular. Awww.

I've also had an epiphany. I'm going to stop drawing Die, Spanks! after issue five is done with. In case you haven't noticed, I've been working on erotic comic strips. I'd actually love to draw adult comic books now. So that's my thing. I'm going to be the pervert I've always been, only moreso on paper. Don't go thinking I'm sexually frustrated. I mean, I might be, but you would be too if your libido took up 29% of your brain, almost replacing the entire left side (this is not a fact, just my own little theory).

Word. Right now, I wanna talk about Comic Books. But, that's too broad of a topic, so I'll just talk about Comic Book Characters. Again, too broad. Tonight, I'm going to talk about Female Comic Book Characters. Everyone bust out a pen and some paper - 'cause yer gonna want to take notes. First, I need ta smoke :::zippo click:::...

Ah, FUCK it's cold outside. Anyway... I've always drawn female characters. Sure, when I was younger I drew a bunch of guy characters, but the female character was always there. In middle school, I began drawing more female characters. I was also beginning to add breasts. This was a must, since in middle school, I was surrounded by breasts - something that most girls didn't have in elementary school. And of course, hips followed breasts, and ass followed hips. My female characters began to wear skimpier outfits. Tighter pants, see-through shirts. Their personalities made them come alive, and I would walk for hours at night trying to piece together a story that could revolve around the character's personality - whereas a lot of people revolve their characters around a story line.

Let us pause for a moment. I don't want you thinking that I was like that guy from Cool World, falling in love with my creations. Or even one of those guys who says, "I'd fuck Jessica Rabbit over Gwen Stefani any day, yo" - 'Cause I wasn't. Fuck, back then, my masturbatory fantasies were of Bjork or the Deal twins from the Breeders. I also developed crushes on real - tangible - girls at my school (sigh - those awkward days of pubescence). Wow. I can't believe I wrote a paragraph trying to prove that I'm normal. Ha, that's a first.

Ah, but now I will disprove that I am normal. For as long as I have been drawing female characters, I have also heard the following - "Dude, give her bigger tits!", "She's got a nice ass, but... her tits are too small". It's quite frustrating really. But I'll never forget my friend's reaction one day during lunch in freshman year of high school. A blonde girl walked by, and my friend said, "Dude, that chick is so hot!". The entire lunch table erupted with childish gestures and noises of agreement. Except for me. "Her tits are too big and I'm not a big fan of blondes," I said. Maybe this was because the "large-breasted blonde" thing has been way over-done. Maybe it's because I like dark eyebrows. Maybe it's because I was rebelling against the mainstream? But, I didn't think that was why. I just know what I like. Still, it took me quite some time to live that one down. Big mistake to voice your opinion to a lunch table full of idiots if you're even somewhat intelligent. So it goes.

The thing is, I have always liked smaller breasts. A cup, B cup yum yum yum. Now, there are some girls that look better with larger breasts, but I am more partial to what - in the porn world - is called "itty-bitty-titties". So one day, in 1996, I go over to Border's for this little meeting of sorts. Four comic book people (two guys from marvel, a guy from SLG, and a guy from Dark Horse) are sitting there, answering questions. Of course, I didn't come here to listen to bullshit, I came to push my comic book. But still, I take a seat and observe. The first handful of questions are the typical ones. "How did you break into comics?". Bullshit. I hate that question. I hate it when people answer it. It's never the same answer, yet the person in comics always believes that what applied to him should apply to everyone else. The truth being, it just happened one day.

Now, there are a couple of angry lookin' girls in the front row. If I get into comics, I will always know to avoid questions from angry girls sitting at the front. Instantly, they want to know why the medium is completely sexist. Why males make up for 90% of comic book consumers. Why there are so few female comic book artists. (This was waaayy back in '96, people)

The marvel guys talk about upcoming comic lines that will appeal to female audiences, the SLG guy drops the name 'Sarah Dryer' of Action Girl fame. But now, the angry girls want to know why female comic book characters look the way they do. Extremely disproportional hips, ass, and tits. The only rebuttal that the creators can reply with is, "The male comic book characters aren't very realistic-looking either". But that doesn't settle with the angry girls, and still they complain. I smile...

Look. I can understand why you females out there front and get tetchy. I can understand why you would want to walk into a comic book store and deface comic books like Danger Girl and X-Men. But you're full of SHIT, so sit the fuck down and SHUT the FUCK UP! I'm not tryin' ta be disrespectful to women, believe me, I just hate idiots. First, examine the economical facts. You said so yourself that 90% (I don't know the exact figure today, but I'm sure it's far from 50%) of comic book consumers are male. Also take into consideration that 97% of that 90% of males are complete idiots. And what makes you think that all of the 10% that are women are all that brilliant? So ya got all these morons and what sells on this planet? Sex. You can make it as subliminal as you want, but CUNT rules this earth. Comic Book geeks around the globe know this. So the comic book artists and writers create CUNT for all to buy. Throw in some kick-ass action scenes and some redundant/re-hashed plots, and ya got yerself a comic book.

Yes, I agree that the female comic book characters of past and present seem to be quite misshapen, but that's what guys with normal amounts of testosterone and low IQ's like to see. And yes, it is physically IMPOSSIBLE to be that muscular and still maintain double-D cup breasts. All of the female bodybuilders that I've seen have very manly chests. But then again, the image of female bodybuilders would not sell as hot. I also think that there should be all different kinds of female forms showing up in comics, but unfortunately, a lot of comic book artists today are simply masters of thievery, and do not wish to create a style of their own. I call these people "talentless".

To my female friends, who believe that I am doing good by drawing Ada Lee with small breasts and a sassy attitude - thank you. But you must know, I'm not doing this to prove a point. I draw Ada Lee with B cups because I think B cups are sexy as shit. I, like every other comic book artist who is skilled at crafting fine female characters, only do so because I am a pervert. I am a HUGE PERVERT. I love tits and ass and pussy and everything feminine! I am the Mt. Everest of walking Libidos. And I created Ada Lee as man created God. I created her as perfect in my eyes. Argue, whore, and I shall say this - "It's just my opinion".

If you're really that upset about something, don't take it personal. Put it behind you and do your own thing. There's no reason you should ruin something for the rest of us. I hate that shit. All you people that said, "There should be no smoking in restaurants and bars" should be taken out and shot to shit. In other words, if ya don't like huge tits and hips, draw yer own fucking comic book. Write yer own scripts - do SOMETHING. You can even do like I do and complain about shit over the internet! Just don't ruin it for everyone else. I hate you people. I don't much like the big-titted adventures of Danger Girl myself, but I don't want my right to draw whatever the fuck I want to be taken away from me. That's MY RIGHT as a creator of perverse visual-literature! So there. To say "Everyone stop drawing huge tits!" is just wrong. Let people draw what they want to draw. Fuck you for not trying to draw something different YOUR-OWN-DAMN-SELF.

Wuddup. I don't know WHO I fucked to get this, but I do believe I have the flu. It's not extremely horrible, but it is slightly disabling. The mere thought of food makes me want to vomit. Strangely, the only thing I could stomach was Chef B, which I quickly inhaled. That's that, though. It's cold as shit here in Philly. Just one of those days where ya just wanna sit in bed and watch TV. And it always helped to do that when I was a kid. If I was out sick from school, I'd just sit in bed all day and watch reruns of Hogan's Heroes. Drink root beer and litter the floor with used tissues. And fuck, by nighttime, I was full of energy. I just didn't want to go to school the next day, so I'd pretend to still be sick.

Why can't I just do that? Why can't I sit here in an empty house, jerk off to lesbian porn, and litter the floor with two different kinds of used tissues? I'd probably be a lot better by now. I hate the way thoughts feel when I'm sick. Foreign, almost. Fuck it. I'll get better. I'll soon be able to breathe through my nose again.

Oh yeah! Just so ya know, from now on - whenever I add to this page, I'm just going to change the date of the site update, and not put anything in the News page. Understand? Hmm.. . In other words, if you notice that the site has been updated, but there's no info about it in the News page, that means I added to this page. Think hard, jigga. Peace.

I'm getting older. Ugh, I'll be twenty-one in February. You over-21's are probably laughing at me right now. You under-agers are probably envious of my closeness to legal drinking age. Fuck you all, then! To the over-21ers, you remember what this feels like - so stop laughing! To you underagers, get the fuck outta here. Shouldn't be up in here in the first place!

It's fucked up. Especially now that I've moved back to the Philly area after living in the Santa Barbara area for over a year. I drive the same car. I dress the same. I listen to the same music. Nothing has changed in the past few years. I still draw the same comics. Still play the same guitar. But I'm older now.

'97 and '98 were good years for me. I was driving a '93 Ford Escort - in good shape. I went through a series of bumbling infatuations and sticky relationships. I played a few girls. I sped around the neighborhood. I stole mad shit from my workplaces. I was cool. Awyea...

Fast forward a few years. It's almost 2001. I drive a 1993 Ford Escort - still alive. I've been called a jerk one-too-many times... I drive safely, for fear of speeding tickets that might boost my somewhat reasonable car insurance rate. I don't have a job yet, and I've been in my homeland for over a month. I suck. Awyea...

When I was 17 and even 18, people thought that the fact that I drew comic books made me a cool person. Now, when I say I draw comics, people look at me childishly. As if comic books was just a phase to me. Fuck you, assholes! I still play the guitar, but oh - how teenager of me! Chicks laugh at my car, yo... That's not cool. It's the kinda shit that makes a creative man give the fuck up.

Not me. I press on. Laugh at my car! Laugh at my American Eagle shirts! Laugh at my baggy pants! Laugh at my taste in music! Laugh at my silly dooodlings! Laugh at my leather jacket! Laugh at my car again! Keep laughing. I'll fuck you the fuck up, you dumb shits!

Most of the people I know went to college. Some of them still lurk around the streets of Upper Darby. Some have kids or are about to. Some are dead. Some are in rehab. Fuck that shit, man. I don't want to be a casualty. I can't give up. As you get older, the test gets harder. That first step that has always been in front of you gets higher. Build your ladder all you want. As you get older, aspirations fade. Gotta keep fighting. Keep thinkin' yer the shit. Keep laughing. Don't settle into anything. Always keep your mind and your options open. Oh... and one more thing... Step the fuck aside, ass-whores... I'm comin' thru.

It would appear that the Lord God Almighty DOES work in mysterious ways. He has taken from us all previous rants. You see, they were lost in the revamping of this website. Or did they get lost? Perhaps it WAS the will of His Greatness? Maybe He has taken them because He saw them as BLASPHEMOUS! Maybe He didn't want such unholy sacrilege to be viewed by any that might be offended?

Yeah, I'm gonna stick with that story. To blame God, the Devil, or even my good bud Jesus (that's him in the background of the picture to your left), is just retarded. You know, "Religion = Scapegoat", that sort of thing. Shit, is it time for a cigarette already? When I return - the joys of X-Mas Shopping... ugh...

Back - Someone once asked why I always pick on Christians - to which I replied, "I pick on stupid people. I can't help it if the majority of idiots are Christians". But seriously folks (ha....ha) - I have nothing against the faith. It's the religion that bugs me. And now, on to better things...

The mall was fuckin' PACKED. Retardation surrounded me with it's thick, fumbly fingers of stench! People dropping money like crazy and for WHAT? I honestly believe that X-Mas gifts should be made and not purchased. The only reason it's not like that is because Holidays are good for the economy or some shit. But if I make someone a dream-catcher and they get me a video game, who looks like the retard? That's right! Me and my dream-catcher!

To me, X-Mas just means ugliness. Here's how it works at the Munroe household. Everyone wakes up, goes downstairs, rips open their presents (sometimes there are looks of disappointment), then sits around until it's time to visit relatives. Sometimes that can be fun. ... And now, my sister and I will be starting an old tradition all over again. For the first time in over six years, we will be visiting my dad's side of the family. You see, my dad decided that he had had enough of his family and thought he would be better off ostracizing himself. That's cool and all (because there are some real psychos in his family... dat's right, that's where I get it from!), but my sister and I bumped into that side of the family last week when we went to watch my Granddad play lead cello in the Delaware County Orchestra (an out-of-retirement performance). It was WEIRD. That's all I'm saying about that. But anyway, that side (the Munroes) of the family celebrate X-Mas really late at night, like around ten. They buy pizzas. ...

But THAT'S not what pisses me off. It's the fucking MORONS that think X-Mas is so great and such a happy holiday - when most SUICIDES are committed around that time of year. In FACT, X-Mas is the most stressful and depressing times of the year! I HATE IT. I HATE all of the fucking X-Mas movies. I HATE ALL X-MAS SONGS!!! AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!

I'm done tonight. More when I can get the time. I know you probably think I'm a big party-pooper and that I don't like X-Mas because no one loves me... BUT YOU'RE WRONG. I see X-Mas for the juicy piece of SHIT that it is! DAMN YOUR GOD TO HELL if I'm wrong... damn him to hell anyway...