Lost my tablet stylus. :(

Unfortunately fan(s), I lost my tablet’s stylus. No new drawings until I start scanning pictures.

New content coming soon! In the meantime, here’s this that I made:

:D

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The Internet

Originally I was going to write a post listing several bullshit excuses as to why I couldn’t update my blog. In fact, I still have one of the drawings I did for that one:


we rented the front room to a T-Rex and it didn’t work out

But I’m going to be upfront with you guys. Since I trust you. And you’re my friends.

The Internet distracted me.

Yes, the very medium in which I submit my ramblings and pretty pictures was my downfall. It’s like going to the mall to get shoes, but, goddamn, those Cinnabons smell amazing. So you stop and get one. The only difference between Cinnabons and the Internet is that I don’t hang out at Cinnabon for three hours looking at funny pictures of cats.

So, alas, due to pure laziness I only update about once a month. And I’m sorry. But I present to you this brand new, mint condition blog post. Please enjoy.

THE INTERNET

The Internet is many things. Amazing. Delightful. Expensive. Porny (as in “filled with porn”). But I think the thing we can all agree that it is the most of is distracting. I’m sure you’ve lost count the times you’ve booted up your laptop to work on that term paper and before you know it you’re reading little known trivia about The Land Before Time.


the mantra of the internet

Distraction, of course, leads to time consumption. In the same way that getting distracted by the TV or a really pretty butterfly will leave you mentally incapacitated for a bit, so will the Internet. “I’m just going to check my email” turns into “Holy cow, is it three A.M. already?” turns into “Wasn’t I supposed to go to work today?” And the Internet is full of things that will steal away your will to focus on the important tasks at hand.


totally not one of them

The Internet is making us apathetic. I recently read an article where Bill Nye (yes, the science guy) passed out on stage at a presentation and instead of rushing to his aid, the students tweeted the incident on their mobile phones.


i’m sure this situation has happened more than once

With the advent of Twitter and Facebook, people have the option to tell everyone everything. And god knows they exercise this ability. Twitter accounts are riddled with up to the minute statuses describing one’s daily routine, and our nation’s new favorite past time is telling all of your face book friends what you just had for breakfast.

And so, the Internet is us and we are the Internet. It has become an integral part of our life and an addiction at the very least. Like smoking, people wake up in the morning to turn on their computer and spend all day into the wee hours of the next morning looking at pictures of boobs and cats. The Internet has formed a symbiotic relationship with man and it is here to stay.

this has never happened in the history of the internet

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The General Public At Work

According to Webster, a job is “something that has to be done”. There are only two kinds of jobs that are fun and, coincidentally, those don’t pay the bills (unless you… you know… “put on the red light”)

And if you work with customers, the loathing you feel for your line of work is increased tenfold. People are idiots.

That being said, I have a few pet peeves that people do when I’m on the job, being a waiter at Great Restaurant. Eating at a restaurant is much like eating at someone’s home. You are the guest, and the staff is the host. Unfortunately, the guest-host relationship has been lost on the majority of the population and has been replaced by the guest-slave relationship that is much more common in the service industry.

LOAFERS

If you’ve finished your food and have paid your tab and I haven’t directly expressed that I want you to hang out, please get the fuck out of here. That table you’re sitting at is my money maker. That is literally how I pay the bills. At Great Restaurant, the sections are split so each waiter is alloted three tables. If you hang out at one of my tables all night, you have cut my night’s pay by about twenty dollars because I can’t make tips at a table where no one’s being sat. There is seriously nothing that can’t be said in the car or at home or even outside that you are talking about at my goddamn table.

On a side note, if I drop the bill off and keep hinting at you paying it, it means I want you gone. It’s probably the end of a very long shift and I can’t go home until every tab is paid for and I account for all my money. I can’t believe how many times I’ve had a couple be the last table in the whole restaurant, I’m the only server there and they can’t figure out why I keep asking, “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can get you right now?” while eyeing the untouched check sitting on the table.

I DON’T CARE IF YOUR HANDS ARE FULL

When I’m passing out food, I need to use both my hands and if you’ve got dirty dishes in front of you, I’m not going to be able to move those first, so do me a favor and get them out of the way instead of just staring at me like an idiot because I won’t set your plate down.

I’M NOT LISTENIIIIIING

This is just common courtesy, people. I normally don’t have this problem with two or three people. But when I walk up to a group that’s talking and I ask how everyone’s doing, I’m not just a guy trying to butt in. I’m your server. I need to take your order. So everyone needs to be quiet and listen to me, because I just became the most important guy in your life for the next half hour or so.

HERE BUDDY, KEEP THE CHANGE

There is nothing (and I mean nothing) more insulting to a waiter than when some snarky bastard says the above sentence and “the change” turns out to be just that: change. Usually about fifteen cents. If you’re gonna leave a bad tip, just do it. Don’t be a dick to our face. That’d be like me bringing you a plate wrapped in foil and telling you its cookies, thanking you for a favor you did me, only to reveal a pile of kitten poo.

I used kitten poo for this analogy because kitten poo is especially stinky. Have you ever owned a kitten? Seriously.

LATECOMERS

Imagine you’re hosting a dinner party, and halfway through someone announces that they have a couple friends that will be there in about an hour and that you’ll need to cook more food to accommodate them. That’s what latecomers at a restaurant are like. I’ve seen a server take a table, finish that table up and are ready to go home, only to have the guest tell them that they have a friend stuck in traffic coming to meet them and they don’t want to leave till they get there.

BABIES

Now. Before I say anything. I understand that they are just babies and they probably don’t know what they’re doing (I say probably because… I mean, you ever seen Baby Geniuses? No telling what those babies know). And most of the time the parents can’t really control them anyway.

BUT.

That doesn’t make them any less goddamn annoying.

They scream for no reason, they throw food, they knock things over. I swear, every time a host brings a high chair over to my table, I know I’m going to have to prepare for the worst day of my life. And every time a baby is at my table, it looks like a tiny bomb went off. Ten out of ten times a baby is there, there will be a massive mess.

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Happy Halloween!

I just got finished carving my pumpkin. :)


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That Time I Threw Up, part I

I figure now is as good a time as any to delve into the countless tales of me vomiting. If I may climb up on my soapbox for a minute…

…may I?

Thanks.

These stories are a staple in my group of friends and are often recounted at parties and get-togethers and are a sort of hazing for people new to hanging out with us.

“You mean you didn’t hear about that time Myles laughed so hard he threw up? Or the other time he did it? Or even the third time?

For this episode, I will tell four small stories from my youth. The good stuff didn’t really happen until high school, so I will condense some stories into one post here. Later, you will get epic retellings. After that, essays. And finally, a published novel, detailing with rivaled SAT vocabulary the so-called “pool incident”.

The first time I can remember throwing up and it being hilarious was that time when I was four and I didn’t like the spaghettios my baby sitter was feeding me. And I know what you’re thinking: what four year old doesn’t like spaghettios? Let me reconcile myself by saying that now I goddamn love spaghettios and that when I was four I was a little shit-head.

Anyway, I threatened to throw up the spaghettios and my baby sitter ran over to cover my mouth (she was weird) and I threw up in her hand, sending chewed up pasta and tomato sauce everywhere like a nasty spaghettio sprinkler.

i imagine this is how the event transpired

The second time, I must have been seven or so. I was sitting in my second grade class and without warning this happened:

Then one of my classmates stood behind me and rattled off a list of what he thought were the contents of the puke.

fuckin’ lewis

When I was in fifth grade, I was sitting in class and I started to feel a little ill. I asked the teacher if I could use the bathroom, but I didn’t disclose my purpose. I was in a classroom that was at the end of a long collection of those portable classrooms. The bathroom was situated at the opposite end of where my class was, and as I got closer to it I felt increasingly sicker.

Finally, when I was around the second to last class, I felt like a vomit geyser, ready to blow. I broke into a run, fearing that I wouldn’t make it in time.

And I didn’t.

Outside the big picture window of a classroom, still running, I let loose. A giant, thick stream of bright pink vomit spewed forth, spraying the pavement and walkway outside of this classroom. If anyone inside was looking out, they might have seen this:

When I finally made it to the bathroom, I didn’t need to throw up anymore (of course) and the bell rang for recess while I was in there. On my way back to my class, I passed the one that I had thrown up in front of. The kids were filing out of the door, and upon seeing (and probably smelling) the mess I had made, they all started screaming and shouting and refused to advance further down the walkway. I prayed that no one knew that I had wrought the horrible puddle of filth before them.

And finally, when I was eleven, I was hanging out with my friends at lunch. I was also a shit head in sixth grade, so almost every day, my friends and I would run around school having food fights.

and I wondered why I wasn’t popular

As soon as the bell rang for lunch to be over, I started feeling queasy. But I wasn’t throwing up. I knew I couldn’t sit through class like this. Plus, my shirt was especially dirty from all the cafeteria food and jello cups we were chucking at each other.

So, I went to the office and they called my step dad and told him that I wanted to come home because I wasn’t feeling well. Since I lived just down the street from my school, they let me walk home.

Upon reaching my driveway, I saw my step dad standing there. He said something along the lines of, “Hey, bud, how ya feeling?”

I smiled and meant to say words, but instead just shot forth a jet of milk and chunks of fruit right there in the driveway and in front of all the cars that were driving by.

i tried to think of a caption to describe how this might have looked to someone driving by, but i can’t think of anything

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Remember, kids! Voting is important!

I would just like to remind everyone to get out and vote this coming November. This is an important period for many Californians, and there is a lot of crazy out there promoting crazy ideas. So, we, as sane people, need to get out and combat the crazy!

If you haven’t registered to vote, and are able to, please do. Here, I’ll do you a favor and give you a link:

Here.

Now I don’t have to get you a birthday present.

Remember to review all of the candidates and choose wisely.

I don’t consider myself a very patriotic person. My attendance at fourth of July BBQs over the last few years has severely wained, and I drive a Toyota. So, to make up for it, here’s a picture of me being patriotic.

Did that help? I hope so.

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What would it be like to hang out with Fox News?

There are people I don’t want to be around. Hipsters, zombies and velociraptors to name a few. But what if I had to hang with Fox News? Here are some of things they might pull on you (with sources).

Unreliable relaying of things you said:
As seen when they edited a clip of Obama to make him look bad.

Dismissing your personal issues for more inane conversation:
As seen when they panned Stephen Colbert’s quite serious testimony in Congress and went back to reporting “news”.

Then there’s Bill O’Reilly:
As seen here and here.

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