Cheater, Cheater

There are many inspirations an artist uses to create his or her works of genius. Some come from stress, some from genetic mutation from having lived too close to the power lines, some from unhappiness (just ask that nut bar Van Gogh), some from lack of sleep, some from drug abuse or mixing meds and alcohol, some from inbreeding, and some just come from plain old daily life. Like this episode of the comic that just won’t lie down and die despite having been injected with massive amounts of dim sum and sugary petro-foods all in one day.

(Before I continue, please refrain from snorting derisively, rolling your eyes with incredulity or thinking “he’s such an arrogant putz” over the implied link between ‘artistry’ and this comic. I need this space to vent.)

So where were we? Oh yeah, real life. I was made aware of an automotive mishap last week that thankfully had no victims, apart from the poor saplings used to slow the vehicle’s progress and maybe those of us who had a scare put into us the likes of which would have required a fresh change underwear had we not been eating a very low fiber lunch. But I digress.

I tried the tried and true technique of plunging the reader into the story from the very first frame, thus sparing you of some crazy story and dialogue which requires readers to look away from the stuff they really want to read on their iPads, like shopping for stuff or Solitaire, or other such highly involving games. And I think it worked, but you will have to be the judge of that.

Oh, and I wanted to have an image of the James Dean car crash, but I was too lazy to think of where to place it into the frame and still have time for a late night snack. If that isn’t dedication, I don’t know what is.

Wishing you all safe travels, good bagels and children who don’t talk back to you even when they are right.


Benicio del Drukero

One thought on “Cheater, Cheater”

  1. What the hell happened? And who’s the smoker? And what’s doing with Kirsten? Lemme know. Mona

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