Tag Archives: aging

Day-to-Day, Frustration & Complaint, Meaning of Life

Unbelievability and Aging

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Aging & Bin Laden Diaries

Aging Eyes, Aging Mind

As I went up the escalator on my way to work, and choosing not to take the crowded stairs full of desk drones like me on their way to an office job to be humiliated by having to work off debts incurred by shopping too frequently online and at Costco, I noticed the derriere of the person in front of me.

It was a woman, she couldn’t have been more than 20 or so, who had managed somehow to insert herself into a pair of jeans, so tight and form-fitting that spandex would have looked loose and flowing by comparison. I know what you’re thinking. He’s about to launch into some depraved diatribe about lascivious thoughts and reminiscing about his misspent youth. You’d only be partially correct.

You see, aging very clumsily and ungracefully as I am, my capacity for unholy thoughts has eroded over time, not unlike the Grand Canyon. It was once, millions of years ago, a vast plain, grassy, verdant, lush, rife with life. In the intervening eons, it has become a dry, barren place with many canyons, little water running through it and many stones. Come to think of it, that’s a great metaphor for my kidneys and the attached kidney stones (another quirk of aging and poor genetics).

But I digress.

Diminished But Not Defeated

Aging has made me think differently, largely due to diminished mental and physical capacities, and multiple frayed telomeres — due to refined sugar abuse — on the genes that control my sanity and body hair (they are interlinked and march in lockstep it would seem).

Back to the astoundingly tight jeans. This woman obviously felt the need to wear something that would make her feel good and perhaps even attractive in the minds of many men. Ok, fine. But my next thoughts were around her physical health. Encumbered breathing and a lack of circulation must have ensued three minutes after she zipped up those jeans. then I thought, maybe it isn’t fashion, maybe she has a medical condition like those post-op patients who have to wear those circulation stockings to keep the blood from descending to her feet thus preventing swollen ankles. Could be.

However, the father in me then took over the runaway freight train of thought and it led me to think I would kill my daughters if they ever dressed like that! It’s not that I would prevent them, I’d merely freak out and shout and holler. Paradoxically, it’s unbelievable and unfathomable that a person with my dark track record and multiple damaged, recessive genes could have such protective thoughts of my daughters and concern for others as opposed to my once default mode of launching into some pornographically themed tour de force. Parenting messes you up and alters your universal truths you held so dear.

Truth, Shmuth

What does this have to do with the theme of this installment of the comic once labelled as “the purest form of libel and a pretext for annexation anytime I feel like it” by President Vladimir Putin while skinny dipping in the Volga with his concubine? Like the subject of alleged (and highly fictional) secret diaries of Osama Bin Laden I make reference to, who knows what is truth anymore? It’s whatever we want it to be if we ignore fact-based science and don’t watch Cosmos.

What would have been considered once to be an absolute truth (e.g. I’m a pure deviant) may only partially be true now that children have crushed my will to engage in acts that could have led to procreation for fear of the results (more debt). What was once utterly unbelievable (butter isn’t so bad for you after all, mom) is now maybe sheer truth. Or not.

Then again, I am doing a comic about fake Bin Laden diaries because I couldn’t think of anything better to amuse you with so what do I know.

May peace, or at least stalemate, be yours and mine,

Henry Druker-Kissinger

Day-to-Day, Meaning of Life

Youth Pills

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Stanko & Tibor: Youth, Pills & Happiness

OK, here is the excuse for this installment’s late posting. Had I not begun to write semi-regularly for an automotive website, I would have had the time to finish this cartoon back on Monday. But alas, my duty to pontificate on things automotive (for which I am getting paid a nominal sum) took precedence this week.

But I digress.

First things second. I needed a break from the Radio Vitriol story line for a bit, and this one was sitting in my pool of ideas for a while. I had wanted to do this ages ago. And now I did. If anyone knows me and my cartooning style, they will immediately recognize the source of the theme from whence this episode came. And that is Bloom County, perhaps my greatest cartoon inspiration. So like any genius, I stole liberally in terms of setting and color. Words and characters, as you know, are my own.

Second (or is it third?), my lovely wife felt she had to point out that the poorly drawn rose in the comic looks way more like a tulip. I resorted to calling her a “hater” and proposing divorce proceedings, which she laughed at. And she laughed at the comic too, but she is even more sleep-deprived than I am so I take it all with a grain of salt.

And third things last, it’s bed time, as it’s past midnight. No wait, I forgot to mention, I made some changes to the site:

  • At the top right, I added “Share The Humor” tools, so you can share this with friends, family and the general media using social web tools. Even a Jewish grandmother could do it (hint, hint)
  • I added my favorite websites as well. Please check them out, they are all quite funny. It’s worth wasting your productive time on them
  • Very soon, I’ll remove the link to my car articles as it takes away from the comic experience, BUT I’ll replace it with more features of the comic, like a bio on the characters, and the most recent items you can purchase from the webstore. I can make kids’ gifts with a Stanko & Tibor image of your choice.

OK, that’s it. Good night.