Ho, Ho, Mom

Okay, People, since it is Christmas time I am going to share with you my very favorite Christmas joke. It is my favorite Christmas joke because I made it up myself. You are free to share it, just make sure you tell people where you got it from. This joke is copywrited, damnit!

It was the night before Christmas when Little Jimmy Thompson came bursting into his older brother Joe’s, bedroom.
“Joe! Joe!” Little Jimmy yells, out of breath. “I just saw mommy kissing Santa Claus under the mistletoe! Let’s go tell dad!
“Jimmy,” Joe says, “That’s not Santa. That is dad, dressed as Santa. You big dummy.”
“No, no,” Little Jimmy persist. “The guy mommy is kissing has a big white beard and mustache. Daddy doesn’t have a beard and mustache.”
“I know that, dummy.” Joe responds. “Of course daddy doesn’t have a white beard and mustache. That’s part of his costume, to make him look like Santa. Duh!”
Little Jimmy ponders this for a second and then says; “But, Joe, this guy was fat with a big fat belly, like a bowl full of jelly. Dad’s not fat.”
“I know dad’s not fat,” Joe says, obviously exasperated with is silly kid brother. “That’s just padding. Probably a pillow or something to make him look fat so he can look like Santa Claus. Now will you get out of here so I can finish playing my game?”
Satisfied with his big brother’s explanation of the events little Jimmy turns to leave his brother’s bedroom. As he is about to head out the door he turns and says; “But, Joe…Dad’s not white.”

HO. HO. HO. You know that’s funny. I love that joke and I made it up myself.

Medicated

Okay, I went to the doctor today. He told me that I have some type of inflammation of something or other, underneath my sternum. I don't remember what he called it, but it was something medical. Anyway, he loaded me up with all kinds of medication, which I hate. I hate taking medication! I will say that it is a load off my chest, no pun intended, that I didn't have to be hospitalized, because that is what I was visioning. I am going on bed rest, while I give the medicine a chance to work it's magic. I told the doctor that I was gonna wait a week to see him to see if the pain would go away on its own. Yeah, he didn't think that was such a good idea either. I know it was foolish of me. Pain is the body's way of saying, "I'm hurting, fool. Do something about it!"

Nitty and Fuzzy, thank you very much for showing concern. Maybe during the week I am laying around at home I will find my motivation to create. Take care.

The Painnnnnnn!

And the hits just keep right on coming. I am in pain, people. Real pain. Right in the center of my sternum, pain. I hurts. It hurts bad. Bad enough that instead of resting up for work right now I am laying here typing up this post. I don’t want to go to the doctor, so I am hoping that it will go away on its own. If it doesn’t, I guess I’m gonna have to suck it up and go anyway. I wish I knew what it was. It’s not my heart, I know that much….Oh, my God how it hurts. This is the kind of pain that makes me feel old as hell. I’m gonna give it a week and then if it doesn’t go away I guess I’ll go to the doctor. Pray for me, please. Ow!

Motivationally Constipated

I think it is so cute (and when I say cute, I means stupid) when people who have know me practically all my life ask me if I’m still drawing. I just wanna say, are you still breathing, because for me it is almost one of the same. Drawing is what I do. Okay, sure I have not actually drawn anything since I got back from New York. (Wow. Has it actually been that long?) I don’t know what my problem is to be honest with you. I wish I did. It’s not a lack of ideas, because I have those out the butt. No, literally out the butt. I mean just the other day I was at the Proctologist’s office and he was like; “What’s this?” And I was like, “Oh, that’s just a bunch of ideas I have.” And he was like, “Oh, well you might want to get to work on that.” And I was like, “Yeah, I know…” So, it’s not that I don’t have the ideas (hell, I even have a studio full of half finished works). And it’s not as if I don’t have the supplies. For some reason I am just missing the motivation. WHERE HAS MY MOTIVATION GONE?

Anyway, today we laid to rest my step-father’s mother, Mrs. Jessie. Everyone called her Mrs. Jessie. It was a term of endearment. Anyway, I was so off today, for some reason. Like I drove directly to the church because I actually forgot that the proper protocol is to meet at the house and ride in the funeral procession. Anyway, once I got there I sought out my mom and made sure I went down the isle with her so I could sit by her side. My mom is so cute. She started crying before the funeral even got started good. She reminds me of that lady on Good Times who would just started bawling every time a word was said during a funeral. And of course, this is the typical ghetto funeral for my family. How come the man in front of me, my aunt’s too young husband, wore a big ass Purple Suit? That crap was so freaking distracting. And then I look down and my cousin, who is wearing sandals, has press on nails on her toes. I didn’t even know they made press on nails for your toes. Oh, and they were orange to boot, which is okay, seeing as she was wearing an orange jump suit.
Then the thing that was really going to cause me to crack up (meaning laugh) was that they keep referring to the good pastor as; get this, Dr. Rev. “I won’t say the name”. No disrespect, but I still don’t remember when this man got his PHD. Heck, I didn’t even know he gotten past his undergraduate. Then, when we go to the burial ground, I make the fatal mistake of having my sister and her two daughter ride with me. My nieces are a mess. I love them to death. They talk about everyone, to the point that I have cracking up with laughter.
Anyway, I hate funeral. I don’t like to think about death. But I did tell my sister and nieces that when I die I want my tomb stone to read; “Bye-Bye, Bitches!” Is that inappropriate? I hope not, because my niece says that if nothing else she will make sure that she gets this done for me.
My family is a mess, but I love them unconditionally. And let me tell you, that ain’t the easiest thing in the world to do.

Thanks again for being patient with me. If I could find out what happened to my motivation I’d be all good. I know I don’t have writer’s block, if that’s what you guys are thinking. It’s just that I am motivationally constipated. I am going to make myself draw something, anything, because I do know if you don’t use your talent, God will take it away. I’ve seen it happen.

Nitty's Advise

Nitty-Gritty suggested that until I posted more comic that I should, at the very least, speak about what is going on in my world. Let me assure you that it is not writer’s block…I have plenty of ideas. I honestly don’t know what it is. I am too lazy to get up off my butt to find and post old comics with different characters. Hey, maybe that is a sign that I shouldn’t be doing this for a living. Oh, no….I rebuke that spirit.

I think it might be the fact that my mind is else where. I want to do so much that I have decided to stop doing anything at all. I have even stopped the illustration of my little Children’s book, and that was going really good too.

On a more positive note, I donated a peace of art work to the Black Police Association (even though I am not a member). I found out last week that someone paid four hundred dollars for the bad boy. Pretty cool, huh. Maybe I need to start making limited prints of my work and putting them up for sale (because I don’t believe in selling my work).

I'm Sorry

Okay, to all my faithful readers who keep coming to this site and not finding an update. To all of you who are thinking, “what’s up with this bastard. He lures us in, gets us interested in his character and then just pulls them away!” I am so very sorry. I have just been so swamped that I was not able to even look for some of my older comics to post. Please don’t give up on me. I promise that I will bring you new stuff as soon as possible. Love ya.

Pueblos

Remember Pueblos? I remember learning about Pueblos way back in Elementary School. Ah, Elementary School. Such a simple time. Things were all so....well, elementary, back then.
That's it. I really don't have much to say. LOL