The Adventures of Ladyman

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If misinterpreted, this cartoon could get me more angry emails than the Larry Summers’ comic did. So before anyone gets in a self-righteous huff, here’s the point I intended to make with the cartoon: Women and men have the same skill sets, but women generally get paid less for those skills. Whether or not that comes across depends on my sense of humor and limited cartooning skills. The fluffy pillows joke is just that, a joke. I’ve seen those frightening bronzed amazons on ESPN2, so I’m aware there are women out there who can crush my skull with muscles I don’t have. Please don’t.

I was going to actually write out the proper equations relating to orbiting bodies and drag coefficients, but then a thought occurred to me, “Hey, I hated calculus when I actually had to do it, so why would I do it for a stupid comic strip panel maybe one or two nerds would actually scrutinize?” So for you nerds, the calculus gibberish there isn’t a subtle hint that I actually believe women are bad at math, it’s just proof that men (at least myself) are lazy.

As I mentioned in the previous post, my use of the space shuttle was purely coincidental with the launch of Discovery. For the very selfish reason of not wanting to look like a douche, I hope they land safely.

Absence Makes the Farts Grow Stronger

The stagnant nature of the blog was irking me, so here’s a brief round-up of topical quips and bon mots.

I feel bad for any swarthy folks who want to ride public transportation. The Brits aren’t exactly notorious for their itchy trigger fingers, so I can only imagine how it would be even worse here where any random douchebag could be packing heat. That particulary applies to regions of the country where a “no guns allowed” sign is actually necessary. While I obviously oppose the murder of an innocent individual, I’d look the other way if it was Dog Shit Girl.

John Roberts was a judge for less time than I’ve been a cartoonist. And I suck. If eight years is the amount of time you have to put in to become a doctor, a similar amount of time should be required for nominees to establish an actual record to evaluate. Or, if the administration insists on appointing crap shoot nominees, we should adopt a random lottery. That way any random befannypacked American dumbass can get the job, instead of just some well-connected white guy. That would also make an excellent premise for a sitcom, perhaps if a folk music angle could be worked in.

Was there other news? I have no idea. I spent a decent chunk of the past week on an IPA tour throughout the northeast.

I randomly made a reference to the space shuttle in this week’s cartoon. It didn’t occur to me that it might actually get off the ground today. That thing better not explode or I’m going to look like the world’s biggest asshole.

Senator Cottonlock Refuses a Litmus Test

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Coverage of the Supreme Court vacancy (Or “vacancies,” as Rehnquist tops nearly everyone’s dead pool.) has taken a back seat to the Rove/Plame story, and I’m not complaining. They should’ve been covering this in 2003, when most of the country still believed the WMD nonsense, but a two year old story is still better than shark attack coverage or hurricane stock footage.

Before Turd Blossom Dome broke, the Republicans were spouting talking points which argued that a Supreme Court nominee should be picked solely on the basis of his/her legal qualifications, and not their judicial background. It’s a way to avoid asking where the nominee stands on contentious issues like abortion or the constitutionality of putting the word “God” on every available public surface. Contrary to the media’s coverage of the pious “values voters” who populate the red states, a majority of Americans support the Roe v. Wade decision. The only way the administration can appoint justices who’d overturn it is by sneaking them in without asking where they stand on the government’s role in people’s private lives.

Some feared that advocating for this approach was also laying the groundwork for the nomination of some administration lackey who had little judicial experience. The judicial branch of government is like the National League to me, I’m aware of it, and I’m familiar with the key players, but I don’t pay enough attention to have an informed opinion.

However, my main problem with the whole Supreme Court debate is rampant use of the phrase “Litmus Test,” which is generally used by those who think asking a nominee where they stand on a particular issue is some sort of invasion of privacy. It’s as if they believe the litmus test is a bad thing. I’ve taken a couple of chemistry classes, and I have nothing but praise for the litmus test. It lets you know if a solution will dissolve your fingers or melt your eyeballs. Call me a hippy douche if you must, but I think that’s a good thing.

And a metaphorical litmus test performs a similar function. It lets the public know where a nominee stands and if they are safe to drink. It’s not absolute, but gives everyone an idea where a particular nominee stands in the continuum of ideology. Ideally, a justice would be a 7 if ideology was converted to the pH range, but that titration shit is fucking hard and I’d be happy with anyone that isn’t a strong acid or base.

¡Viva La Gran Ballena Gorda!

¡BFW En Español!Hola a todos desde el artículo en Neo sobre historietas norteamericanas. No puedo traducir mis otras tiras, pero puedo leer tus emails. Intentaré contestar tus preguntas, aunque mi Español es horrible, como este párrafo ilustra. ¡Bienvenidos a la Gran Ballena Gorda!

For those of you wondering what the hell is going on, there’s a brief article that mentions Big Fat Whale in Neo, a free entertainment and events magazine from Uruguay. The bilingual among you can click through and read two translated BFW comics and a brief bio. I’m certainly not an expert, but I think they did an excellent job with the translation, particularly fitting it into my word balloons.

There’s also a write-up on Derf and some translations of his toons in that same article.

Douche Music In Red Stockings

charles bronson the deuceI understand that Red Sox fandom can cloud the minds of many sane men and women, but it shouldn’t prevent anyone from seeing that Bronson Arroyo’s music is the shittiest thing to happen to baseball since the Devil Rays.

I haven’t heard any tracks off of his CD, nor do I intend to, but I’ve endured enough of Bronson’s awkward “jam sessions” on NESN’s pre and post-game shows to know that it’s crap. If he wasn’t on the most popular sports team in New England, every fat ass in Massachusetts would snatch that guitar from him and smash it like Bluto in Animal House. To claim anything else is shameless ass-kissing at its worst.

If I wanted to hear shitty covers of songs I don’t like, I’d hang out on any given quad in Boston.

The tone of this post would be completely different if Manny Ramirez was releasing a CD called “My Great Big Pile of Money Is Great for Fucking On.”

Dedicated Follower of Fashion

As promised at the end of yesterday’s post, here’s the design I’m considering sticking on some shirts. You can click on it for a larger version.

I’m posting this before I shell out any cash to see if it’ll be worth the expense. If you would absolutely pay $10 to wear a shirt with this on the front, I’d like to hear about it. You can either post in the comments or send me an email (whale [at] and I’ll make a decision around this time next week. It would also help me out if you included your t-shirt size. I doubt there’ll be enough to warrant it, but if you’d prefer a shirt style other than the standard 50/50 tee, it’s worth a shot to bring it up.

I’m not sure if I should include the URL on the shirt. It helps me as far as advertising goes, but I can’t decide if it looks dumb. Your opinions would be appreciated.

And for all the paupers in the heezy, circular stickers with a similar design and color scheme will be available for under a buck.

Dwayne Fontaine

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First I’d like to apologize to the readers in Cleveland for sending out a half-finished version of this comic. I could’ve spent the holiday weekend finishing the background and adding the shading, but instead I chose to drink beer and watch a demolition derby. Anyone who has a problem with that is a filthy commie.

I hope this is an obvious parody of the courtship of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes, which most reasonable people believe was instigated by a publicist’s evil mind to raise awareness for “Batman Begins” and “War of the Worlds.” I also included a jab at Scientology, but not because it’s a crazy religion. All religions contain ridiculous dogma no one should believe. Scientology’s crime was creating “Battlefield Earth,” a very shitty movie.

I also intended to make fun of Live 8’s mission statement of raising awareness. Starving Africans find awareness to be just as delicious as a hot steamy bowl of nothing. And I’m sure the uninformed morons who weren’t aware of African poverty before the concerts don’t appreciate some rich ass celebrity preaching about sacrifice.

I have never been to LA, so my apologies if this comic completely misrepresents the majestic publicists who roam southern California’s vast open prairies. My understanding of LA geography is limited to episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm and Arrested Development. Everyone knows Malibu is a very exclusive enclave, but I picked Irvine randomly off the map, sorry if it doesn’t make sense.

In BFW news, I’m considering having t-shirts made. I’ll post the graphic over the weekend to gauge interest. If there’s enough, they’ll get made. If not, I will cry like a baby who just crapped its pants and wasted hours with Photoshop.

Where the White Women At?

I know I said I was busy, and I am. Thankfully my increased workload doesn’t mean I’ll be missing out on any missing white woman related news, thanks to this site. Found via some comment on MeFi.

I touched on the missing white woman phenomena before, but it seems to have reached ridiculous proportions this summer. Shark attack coverage is back to its pre 9-11 obscene levels too. I hope this isn’t an indicator that we’re in for another attack.

If I ever have a daughter, and she gets my ugly genes, she’s getting plastic surgery post haste. Otherwise I won’t be getting hourly updates if she’s kidnapped or otherwise unaccounted for.

A Busy Bee Gathers No Birds

I’ll be busy for the rest of month. As much as I hate it, and no matter how much it makes me feel like a whore, the ugly and unpleasant business of promoting this comic strip has to be done. As a result, I’ll be even slower in responding to emails, (I prefer to put some effort in writing responses instead farting out words like here in the blog.) so please don’t take it personally. Hopefully there will be a bunch of fun crap to buy and maybe another paper or two once it’s all over.

Weekly updates and sporadic blog posting will continue throughout the month.