[Alan Rickman voice]
But now, it's time for an Easter story. [Cue slow, slightly sinister music, played on a harpsichord or other keyboard instrument.]
The year was 1991 A.D., the place was north Timaru, South Canterbury, and the day
was Easter Sunday. My siblings and I had a pet rabbit by the name of
Bungy-Jumper; this name was inspired by the bungy-jumping expedition that an
uncle of mine had taken recently. He was - and still is - a doctor, a
pathologist, no less. And like the coat of a medical doctor, Bungy-Jumper's coat
was also white, but with black speckles that increased in concentration at her
ears. We had owned Bungy-Jumper for only a few short weeks as I recall, and had
acquired her as a nearly full-grown specimen from a local Timaruvian whose
occupation now escapes me.
As I was saying, it was a brilliant Easter Sunday morning and my sister went out
to wish a happy Easter to Bungy Jumper. Moments later she returned. Something
was not right. We both went back to the rabbit hutch to see why Bungy Jumper was
not moving. And why she was reduced to a ball of white fur. The thing that was
once Bungy-Jumper lay stretched and contorted, its midsection ravaged to a
gaping chasm. Red innards trailed from this bodily crater and the pink bones lay
semi-exposed like teeth in a mouth that gasped not for air but for the vital
organs that had been stolen from its warm insides. As my sister burst into
tears, I thought I heard high-pitched laughter coming from behind me. Turning, I
caught a glimpse of a bright pink rabbit with a sack of Easter eggs scampering
off into the bushes, laughing.
The Easter Bunny had killed Bungy-Jumper.
I had always believed that the Easter Bunny gave out Easter eggs to the good little children. Perhaps it was because my parents were too kind, or maybe that they never believed that their own perfect children could deserve such punishment, but they had never told me about what the Easter Bunny did to the bad little boys and girls.
[Normal voice] Okay, the bit about Easter Bunny was something that we just made up, but the rest is true.
Happy Easter, boys and girls.
first of all, i woke up. then i went back to sleep. then i woke up
again. then i went back tosleep again. then i woke up again. then i got out of
bed. then I scratched my balls. then i stood up. then i went and had a shower.
in the shower i blew snot out of my nostril and it gurgled down the armpit
hair-choked plughole. then i dried myself. then i got dressed. then i picked my
nose. Okay, the point that I'm getting to is that today I took
a look at this thing called
"Live Journal" (dot com), where
people with boring lives rant about what they did and didn't do, in gruesome,
unnecessary (and poorly written) detail. Who CARES what Linda and Sophie are
angry about? Who GIVES A FLYING TOSS about who you're going to go and visit
tomorrow? And who REALLY GIVES A RODENT'S GANGRENOUS GLUTEUS MAXIMUS about how
you were feeling at the point that you wrote your latest mindless LiveJournal
entry? Oh and maybe I forgot, who EVEN BATS AN HYPOTHETICAL EYELID at your
pathetic, wanky, "disillusioned youth", pointless insult to poetry?
The Internet Is Not Infinite - YOU ARE WASTING VALUABLE
WEBSPACE!!!! *pant, pant*
"Live" Journal??? More like "I don't live" Journal! Even more like "Get a
life" Journal! How about "Dead Journal"? Yep, that's what I'm gonna start up!
And when I-
realisation hits me
Well, (thinking of a good comeback, here) well, I... I reckon... Well, at
least my diary entries are good enough to have their own webpage, rather
than just being part of some big, pointless archive! And lots of people visit
this page every day! Watch my visitor counter spin! Yeah! :P
Anyway, I don't mean any bad vibes towards people who have their own "Live
Journal", I was just having a rant because ranting is what pretentious online
diary entries are all about. I hope you appreciated the self-referential irony,
and the fact that I was just shameless enough to use the term
"self-referential".
Anyway, moving right along... Here I am, printing off some of my Post-Ironic Pig comics as "microcomics" - tiny, puny, squint-inducing, inferiority complex-initiating A6-sized comic books to try to sell at the Expo. Actually, the size of them does kind of compromise the readability, but they include the PIP web address (www.geocities.com/post_ironic_pig), meaning that these "offline comics" are actually just another ploy to get people to end up at my website. Which is a way of getting people to want to buy my offline comics. Which leads the readers to... and so on. That's how the world works!
That's right! I'm off to Auckland tomoz - the first time in over 10 years that I've been in an aeroplane, too! I'll just hafta remember to leave my craft-knife at home. Especially after the schist I've just pulled in today's GCW cartoon, which just happens to be the final of the fifth series. It's terroristastic! And if you're visiting this page at the behest*1 of either myself or any other of the 3 Funtime Comics representatives at the Armageddon Pulp Culture Expo, welcome to the madness. Take a look around by clicking on the "buildings" on the graphics page, or on the headings on the no-graphics page. There are literally hundreds of my cartoons online and accessible here, so don't try to take it all in with one gulp or you'll regret it when you wake up.
Awrighty. Now I'm off to get me business cards from the printer. Yes, business cards - they make one seem a whole lot more professional. I'm just wondering whether putting the web address of THIS page on them was such a sensible idea. Anyone who turns up here might think that I'm not as serious about professional cartooning as I ought to be. But I suppose that's the whole idea -- "Serious cartooning" is a contradiction in terms. But then again, I always did like paradoxes...
*1: Great joyousness! An excuse to use the word "behest"!
In other news, I got an e-mail from my Dad telling me how to spell "sheik" correctly. Well now, how am I supposed to continue being a role model for younger netsurfers out there with my anecdotes of questionably legal activity and dodgy doings if my parents are reading my top-secret available-to-the-public online diary? Well, I guess I'll have to drag them into this no-privacy world, too. Wave to the nice global audience, Dad...
Did you remember your mother's birthday? -Andrew.
Also, check out this animated teaser for a new something-or-other that I'm going to launch soon. What could it be? "Patience comes to those who wait"...
And finally, a Comedy Club meeting tonight will decide the outcome of the organisation of this year's annual Comedy Revue. Who will be the director, now that Dan (who co-directed FUC) has stepped down from offering his services in this area? Who will be the producer? Will it be Erin (producer of DramaSoc's Richard the Third) or Hilary (producer of FUC)? Will there be a huge catfight? (Unlikely, since not all of the potential participants concerned will be present.) But you never can tell what crAAaaAAaaAAzy, whacky happenings will unfold in a University of Canterbury Comedy Club Committee Meeting! Tonight.
Oh, and finally, if you're interested in Armageddon from some point of view other than my own, take a look at these pictures from the
Official(?) Armageddon Website (if your browser will allow it).
Sorry I don't have the next episode of Andrew's Boring Armageddon Adventure ready this week, and I haven't updated this page in ages. I bet you're all wondering what crAAAAAzy, whacky adventures Andrew must be getting up to for him to not have time to update his page, huh? Well the fact is that the past week has been so boring that it's not even worth documenting on a page called "Andrew's Boring Life". It's back into a new university term of physics tests, programming assignments, lectures, labs and tutorials with a bit of sleep somehow substituted into the equation. And all in the first week. In fact... yeesh, I shouldn't be updating this page when I don't have any Spare Time, let alone Too Much thereof! Arg!
P.S.: From the Comedy Club meeting last week: The president RESIGNED (GASP!). Elections for a new prez are next week. Muahahah! Once my minions have elected ME, I will be virtually unstoppable! President of the Comedy Club today, President of the entire World tomorrow! Well, maybe there should be some kind of intermediate step like "get lots of power" or "president of the UN" or "build a mighty Robot Army" in between.
See what I did there? I just added a website to the ones that you visit most often (probably). And in return, you can help me by recommending MY website (that's this site, doofus) to all your family! Especially if "your family" happens to be "The Family". Or if "your friends" happen to be online entities that you've never even met in real life, and whom are probably just automatons put out by a big Government Conspiracy Organisation to make doofi like yourself use the internet more often. Heh, just kidding. I just get a kick out of imagining the look on your FESH* when you get insulted.
But hilariously, folks, I've even made this pathetic little banner-y-thing that you can stick on your homepage to link to mine (gowawn, I'll even reciprocate!).
* FESH: Front-End Sensory Hub
Wait a minute, I *am* putting the pointless chronicles of my existence onto the
web!
...
Here's your GCW fix for
the week, the story of potato, a Pope, and a production team... And, guess
what else I did? Yesterday I booked my flight to Auckland for...
So it is all falling into place, after all. WOOHOO! This means I'll put the finale of Scapegoat on my comic page along with a new GCW episode next Tuesday, for all the poor saps who I con into visiting my website while I'm at the expo.
(P.S., I didn't really blow snot all over the shower, that's revolting and besides, if you do that sort of thing, everybody else in the house can hear you snorting it out your nostril. Yes, we heard you. Disgusting. Say that reminds me, I haven't had any lunch today. Hmmm. Better go home and make some food and eat it and go to the toilet and wipe... etc.)
Current mood:
What's the point of LiveJournal?!?!
07/04/02: (Visitor Counter = 1355)
Adbreak #1 from my yet-to-be-uploaded TMST film Jedi Springer is now online. Go take a look.
Does it seem familiar? Speaking of unoriginality under the guise of reincorporation, on The Simpsons last night, Renier Wolfcastle (the Arnold Schwartzenegger parody) said MY Geek quote, "The Geek shall inherit the Earth"! Oh well, I guess it was a bit obvious, and I am probably the 247,289th person to come up with it. Now I'm going to have to get a NEW quote! Let's see... "The Shiek Shall Inherit The Earth"! Hey, it works.
Current mood:
Ideas aplenty! (You'll find out more later. Nosey.)
10/04/02: (Visitor Counter = 1384) When I return, I will be a true Geek.
Also on today's comicpage, another grand finale - this time it's the final of the Scapegoat saga: "Thus Spake Jonathan Frakes" in all its unintentionally self-referent, forecastic (forecastic? "future-predicting") glory.
Current mood:
Kinda sleepy.
16/04/02: (Visitor Counter = 1522) I am now a true Geek.
I'd like to elaborate more on this, but now is not the time. As much as I'd love to right now bore you to suicidal tendencies with the full story of my Auckland Armageddon Adventure, I'm going to do that later, in the form of a special cartoon episode of Andrew's Boring Life.
Well, I suppose you want something new to look at, so here's another Daily Stupid article about George Dub-Ya Bush: ERIC DECODES U.S. PRESIDENT!. It's inspired by a piece of FWD-trash, you know the one, with all the pictures of President W. Bush pulling goofy faces, and chimpanzees imitating these faces. I simply removed the pictures of the chimps and replaced them with the facial feats of the facemeister himself, Emotion Eric (whom you may remember from my Links page).
And here's my reply:
From: Brian Kepple (Thu 12:12 p.m.)
Subject: Homesweethome
To: Andrew B Kepple
If not I suggest a post card from Auckland would be welcomed.
Incidentally shiek is spelt sheik by one who nose....
and hoards of crazed Trekkies are really hordes.
Ghenghis. (I Khan spell, but my Golden Horde hoards gold.)
I wasn't sure about the spelling of sheik so I looked it up with Google's reputable spell-checker and it didn't complain. And I don't know about you, but I hoard Trekkies; I expect them to increase in value in 10-20 years' time, after which I may sell them at sci-fi conventions for lots of... whatever currency we use in 10-20 years' time!
PS: Mum's present has arrived by now, I assume. Donald will get his when he comes back to Christchurch.
Current mood:
My privacy has been violated!
18/04/02: (Visitor Counter = 1559)
Chapter One of Andrew's Auckland Armageddon Adventure, "Getting There Is Half The Fun", is now online. It's my first ever fully autobiographical cartoon. I hope it doesn't bore the pants off you. I've even added random, pointless digressions along the way just to break the monotony! Yay!
Friday
Saturday
Sunday
24/04/02: (Visitor Counter = 1655)
A NEW SERIES OF SCAPEGOAT CARTOONS ARE ARRIVING THIS SATURDAY!
And I've made this picture that relates to the Stargate TV series, questioning its originality.
Or does it question the originality of the cartoon Pokémon? Or both? Or the originality of TV shows in general? Did somebody say "general"? That reminds me of the point of this update: Pull on your camo gear, zip up your sleeveless military vests with neutron grenade pouches, and weld circular, golden ornaments to your forehead - it's time for "Scapegoat-SG2: Not ANOTHER Series?"!
Or at least it will be on Saturday.
Current mood:
Realising that I have just under 3 days to finish writing that PL/0 compiler.
27/04/02: (Visitor Counter = 1692)
It's SATURDAY! Scapegoat is BACK in da 'hood and better than ever. Not that it could really get much worse.
And on the subject of really bad things that are funny, take a look at this website, RobotFrank.com
It's about the funniest thing I've seen on the internet since
Emotion Eric (also dot com, but no relation), from whose links section I found the Robot Frank website. RobotFrank.com is devoted to bringing to you at home the massochistic adventures of an evil robot (Robot Frank) and his "CRC error"-ridden pal (Robot Ron). At least, that's where it all started. Now that things have gone horribly wrong, the site also contains proof of an "evil robot construction" craze, where other robots have been made with the purpose of killing, maiming, beating up in the park, and wiping out (nearly) all humans.
Such a website is worthy of note on Too Much Spare Time dot com (that's this site, doofus) and y'know what? I think I might just build my own evil robot to help out with Robot Frank's robot army of doom. Anything for the greater good.
Current mood:
I want to be like Robot Frank!
