So my newspaper career is creeping along at the moment. I’ve been trying to draw something, but what I manage to put out isn’t much at all. In fact, it’s almost impossible to put out anything more than my logo. It’s pissing me off, really. If this is a rut, someone better get me some black-market Zoloft or something.

– “I’m still here”.

Hey to all.

I’m back from a trip to Ft. Lauderdale (took so damn long, my god!) for a journalism convention. Really quick two-day event, but really worth it. The college paper staff got to stay in a sweet hotel. Lots of late night shenanigans. O rly.

Right now, I’m just trying to stick out my lack of sleep from these past two nights. Tomorrow marks a day where I have to get all my stuff back together and do damage control on my stuff and my bank account. Las Olas is expensive no matter if you go to the high end clubs or the holes in the walls.

If anything i’m going to try and update a bit more often. Also, I’ve got ideas in my head about scripting a webcomic. So far, i’ve got a bunch of plots in mind, but the question is which one should I start working on first. Here’s hoping my imagination can fill in for a lack of education in fiction and creative writing.

Catch you later.

C.

Click the strip to see it in full-size.

I’ve been falling behind in my Least I Could Do” strips, and their latest batch for this week hit close to home with me. Not in one of those ways where people take up a whole cause that they never would have thought of. Those people are weird. It hits home in a good way. Generalizations are common, and even necessary at times. You’re not going to list every brand of automobile when you’re just saying something about cars. Still, a lot of generalizations hurt. Especially those made about men. I should know. I’ve heard them all.

“All men are pigs.”
“I hate all men!”
“Men are dogs!”
“All men think about is sex!”

Yeah, we think about sex statistically more then women, but that doesn’t mean anything. We do it because it’s in our drive and our society. It’s not like we were pushed out of the womb while saying “Damn, I need to grow up already so I can get some!” Yes, I realize the incestuous intentions with that scenario; but if Sigmund Freud could theorize that everyone’s subconcious is driven by incest and sex, I see no reason why that can’t be said. Moving on . . .

Right now, I have all the respect for Ray Sohmer because he got it right. Especially for big doughboys like myself who have trouble finding a relationship, let alone having one. Not every good husband has that smooth-cut jaw and rippling pectoral muscles. A lot of them carry a little baggage around, and know the score of things. Not just how to play the game.

A hi-dee-ho to Darkshine.

So I’m skipping school at the moment, and I’m just taking a wee break from class so I can get ready for work. I always found it strange that so many people tend to drop of out college and go straight to work. Now I see how it can happen. If you don’t figure out how to balance things, you can’t get it all. I don’t intend to drop out of school; I’ll sell the shirt off my back before that happens.

This is just an idea for a webcomic that I’ve had bouncing around in my head for a bit. This is just a quick scribble in Photoshop, and if anything, this’ll be the art. Unless someone wants to step to the plate with something cleaner. Basically, if it comes to fruition, I might end up riding on Boondocks‘ coattails. Hopefully not. I got the idea from a Gym Class Heroes song. It’s not going to involve any particular kind of culture, but it’ll basically be a gag a day until I can figure out a few story arcs.

Let’s see if we can make it passed one issue unlike the last one (don’t ask.)

C.

Speaking of iSketch, I was just on there but a minute ago. I find it strange that such an unpopular game like Pictionary all of the sudden becomes a huge deal when we throw it online for every internet user with a connection. Who knows what stalkers may be there?! Swandieve, I’m talking to you.

With so much stuff to grab my attention (no I will not make you a list; it’ll take too much time), it’s been a wonder how I’ve still managed a small social life, school, and work. On top of that, I’ll be adding exercise. This is turning into a wild pile of Jenga, folks! And I’m the bottom piece that’s holding it all together. On top of that, I’m looking for a writing job. Good luck to me won’t help much. The fact of the matter is that Miami is almost completely sparse of a writing industry let alone for a few news publications. I know the Miami New Times is looking for a staff writer, but I’m short on actual print media clips and a cover letter. I’m hoping a few months spent with my college paper will remedy that. The Miami Herald probably won’t be dealing much with hiring because of their latest dealings with The McClatchy Company, a newspaper publishing house. Right now, my chances may only lie in New York or San Francisco. Both cities are writing meccas, but they have some of the highest tax rates in the states. Right now, I’ll have to deal with what I’ve got.

Writing is so damned competetive. They should hand out gold medals for landing a job in a newspaper or media company. Or a golden pen. Or a gold computer with gold plated keyboards.

“. . . ah, screw the whole thing!”

C.

God, Futurama was awesome. Later.

C.

Expect an update soon later.

C.

And, for now, that’s about it. My head’s off kilter. Later.