Go Away

2007-10-25T05:37:00.000-07:00

One Month = What the Fuck

I know I do not blog enough, and that you all are just pining away and waiting for me to update this damn thing with another fecal story, but I have been busy.

With what - you ask?

Well, for one thing, I have decided that I do not like my job. I know, you're probably thinking "Becca, NO ONE likes their job." and rest assured THAT IS NOT TRUE.

I used to like my job. Whenever something would go wrong, or there would be a crisis, I wouldn't mind staying late, working a little more, even if I wasn't going to be paid for it. I would plaster a smile on my face and think to myself that it will build job experience, and OH won't that be good, I will learn something! Yay! I will be building character.

Fuck character. I have enough character.

I think only people who have been (unexpectantly) served with divorce papers know how I feel right now. You know there is nothing you can do about it, but you keep going and keep trying because, well, what else is there? You can't just give up...can you?

But you know it's over. Deep inside of you, no matter how many times you turn over in the bed, flip the pillow, it just won't go away. And it's growing.

I am looking for another job right now. I have a very good lead that would allow me to work my own hours, give me a car allowance, and have no direct supervision.

FUCK YES. Where do I sign?

In other news: did you know you can watch Arrested Devlopment on MSN? Seriously.

Now, excuse me while I go walk across the ocean.

2007-08-12T09:47:00.000-07:00

So this is love!

Eric: YOU get the pudding warmed up, I'LL get the water balloons, and BY GOD we'll make this the best Saturday Night EVER.

2007-08-09T07:21:00.000-07:00

Blog blog blog blog.

Why hello there! I had totally neglected this thing for other projects. Sorry about that.

Namely: I now tutor for money. GOOD MONEY. For real, way to use that ole brain of yours Becca! I would highly recommend tutoring for money.

Also, I have been watching peices of Arrested Development on YouTube. Yeah, that was so important I didn't have time to post.

So sorry people. But not to worry, I will be continuing to post in here regularly from now on.

Or not. I gots to keep you people on your toes!

2007-06-12T10:55:00.001-07:00

http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/

GO THERE! GO THERE NOW!

2007-05-02T17:05:00.000-07:00

This comic brought to you by Penelope!

2007-04-22T13:25:00.000-07:00

2007-04-17T17:24:00.000-07:00

Oh what the Crap is This SHIT

So, I have decided to try drawing pictures and then scanning them in. My primary reason for this is becasue I usually draw with my mouse, and I use my right hand for that...except I am left handed. Now, I have uploaded many, many comics thus far, which has resulted in some interesting finds:
1. I have always only written with my left hand, and used my right hand for everything else (eating, cutting with scissors, clubbing baby seals to death, etc) today, I wrote for the first time with my right hand. Only not purposely. I had been writing quite a bit (500 lines of "I will refrain from screaming CUNT at my boss") and my left hand started to ache, so I switched over to the right hand and kept writing. Only later did I realize what I had done.

2. Does this make me bi-sexual? I certainly hope not, my wardrobe is lacking in the flannel-shirts-with-the-sleeves-cut-off department. KIDDING. Those are lesbians!

3. I am humbly sorry to all the lesbians and bi-sexuals I have offended. (I know I know - 500 lines of "I will not offend lesbians and bi-sexuals" - I'll get right on it.)

Anyway, without further ado, here's my crappy offensive comic:

2007-04-17T08:49:00.000-07:00

Best Insult of All Time

"I'm sorry, do you own a vagina?"

Guy (puzzled) "No..."

"Well you DRIVE LIKE YOU DO!"

2007-04-17T08:48:00.000-07:00

Sorry No Posts

Granddad died. Boo.

2007-04-12T08:07:00.000-07:00

Lesbians Still Fancinate Me

I haven't updated because I am lazy. Yes, I am lazy. Seriously. Fucking. Lazy.

Oh wait, no I haven't been! I've been working on another website, and trying to figure out how to get my new company up and running. (PS I need to get to know someone who knows how to use flash REALLY BADLY, so if that's you, and you want some freelance work, please, feel free to leave me a comment!)

In other news, my old Buick has died. I would have put a case of buckshot into it to kill it long before today, but my brother stopped me, saying "Don't Becca, sign the title over to me, and I will give you this scrumptious pie." And really, you can purchase pretty much anything I own by offering me pie. (especially lady pie. Oh yeah) <--That was for my little sister and my lesbian readership.

My favorite is French Silk. Does anyone need a couch? Because I am in the mood for some pie, and Eric hates out couch...

2007-04-04T16:04:00.000-07:00

Duck Duck Duck Duck TUTTA!

I have a little thing for ducks. I have a huge collection.

Eric gets a little freaked out about it. While he is showering, he go for some soap, and he’ll suddenly notice about 15 little pairs of eyes staring at him. Watching him shower. Sizing him up.

On the plus side, we have been saving water like a mother.

Anyway, I have a duck on my balcony. His name is Pete The Ever Vigilant. He likes to watch the traffic go by.

Why is my duck obsession newsworthy of my comic/blog? Well because I need to record what Eric has told me in the event that he ever goes back on what he has just promised:

When we buy a house, with a basement – he will buy me a real duck. Like, a quack quack REAL LIVE DUCK!

Excuse me while I start stashing away cash to save for a house with a basement. If the duck is a boy, he will be named Pete II – this time it’s personally Vigilant and if it’s a girl Tutta.

What?

Tutta is a perfectly respectable name for a duck. A female duck. And and and when I go visit my duck I can do the Egyptian dance and sing Tutta Tutta Tutta at the top of my lungs, for she is named after King Tut.

I will let you know when I have acquired my duck. LET THE COUNTDOWN BEGIN!

(Jameson – not one word about orange sauce. NOT. ONE. WORD.)

In other news...

Dude, smell me!

It is a rare occasion when I actually want someone to smell me because I smell so heinous.

Today was the exception, however. Both Eric and I have slept total of 26 hours over the past two days and have sweated enough to warrant 3 showers while I was awake.

And the smell! It smelled like I was covered in 15 day old piss. I can only image what my house smells like to outsiders!

I imagine that my neighbors are walking down the hall, and suddenly stop, pull their shirts over their faces and exclaim, “Jesus, who is boiling a baby to death in piss!” BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT IT SMELLS LIKE.

2007-04-03T14:14:00.000-07:00

2007-04-01T17:43:00.000-07:00

The Great Gravy Fight of 2002

Thanksgiving is my second favorite Holiday. The fourth of July takes the cake, because you get to BBQ and get drunk and blow up some shit. THANK YOUR BENJAMIN FRANKLIN AND GEORGE WASHINGTON you have made my summer!

But Thanksgiving…oh, what a great holiday! You stuff yourself full of food and pass out early. And you get that Friday off of work (you do, I do not. Fuckers.)

Well, this is a little story about how things can go in a terribly funny route.

The first thing you need to remember is how my brother Jameson doesn’t drink Champaign every day. He’s a beer and wine guy. (Yes, I am fully aware that Champaign is just sparkling wine, but I don’t care.) So, my brother decided that even before dinner, he is going to chug some Champaign. He continues to chug Champaign throughout the dinner. Then us kids are left to clean up the house while my parents went out to visit with friends or family or someone. My brother continues to chug Champaign.

Then, he starts a mashed potato and gravy fight. Now, let me explain how this went down, because it’s not like he said, “Say gals, you know what sounds like fun? Throwing hot gravy at each other! Hooray!” It was more like he threw a fistful of gravy at me. He missed. He hit Penelope, my little sister. She. Is. Shocked. Banshee doesn’t describe the noise she makes, giving a possum a hysterectomy with a rusty spoon better describes it.

And then she grabs a fistful of mashed potatoes, and it is on.

Well, all of this excitement has gotten my (very) drunk brother all wound up. Now, I ask you, if you got (extremely) trashed and then proceeded to run around for an hour – what do you think your next move would be?

If you said throw up in the sink for 10 minutes straight, but without taking out the drain stopper – or – removing dishes, to the point that you fill the sink – then you would be correct! Because that is what he did.

I cleaned up all the gravy & potatoes off the walls/curtains/chandliers/Peneoples while Jameson just looked at what he had done.

There is a rule in our house, and that rule was when the dog vomits – whomever sees it first has to clean it up. This is also true for piss and shit. Now, if you could get away with tiptoeing around it, and making sure no one sees you see it, well then it’s like you never saw it.

We took this stance on the vomit in the sink, since no one wanted to stick their hand in to get the stopper out.

As though the dog did it.

Don’t worry, I hope to someday pay my mother back for all the times she stepped directly into the could-have-been-prevented dog piss/vomit/shit, and times she has found moldy/crusty potatoes on lampshades and wondered aloud sweet God why? – someday I will have children just like me. She seems to revel in this reward. She tells me this daily.

Hmm…

2007-03-31T19:21:00.000-07:00

Why no honey, I did not dink all the Redbull, why do you ask?

2007-03-28T14:55:00.000-07:00

Pubes? On the Inside?

So, I am driving home from work today, and I am jamming out to my factory installed AM/FM radio (because by GOD I am cool - too cool for a new car stereo, with one of those...what's that new fangled thing called? A CD player? BAH! Who needs that!) and I happen to notice something stuck to my driver's side window.

Now, I drive an absolutely ADORABLE little red sports car. It has a few problems, such as I have accidentally torn off the center armrest's lid, the driver's side window doesn't stay up unless you duct tape it, you know, minor problems...

This is a (very blurry) picture of my window with all the tape on it.

So I have taped this window up, and moved on with my life. Rain occationally gets in, but oh well. The little red sports car gets me from point A to point B, and I look slightly cool while doing it.

So I am stuck in traffic, and I notice that stuck in the tape, less than 1 foot from my face, is pubic hair. And it's not like it's stuck in the tape on the outside of the car, it's on the INSIDE. Which means that someone had to rub their junk all over my window inside my car.

The thought of someone rubbing their junk on the outside of my car is disturbing enough, but inside? That's just disturbed.

In other news, I took the strip of tape the pubes were stuck to and put it in an Easter card and sent it to my mother. After all, why should I be the only one with a stranger's pubes less than a foot from my face?

2007-03-27T15:08:00.000-07:00

Damn, that just ain't right...
At least stop clenching...

2007-03-26T16:39:00.000-07:00

Deep Fried Chicken Fat and Whole Foods Salsa

So, do I explain my hiatus this post? Or do I just keep posting away...eating deep fried chicken skin/fat and salsa with pineapples and mangos. Well, judging from the title, I think you know what I have chosen.

This is going to be a regular blog entry. Meaning, there shall be no mention of feces. Well, at least I will try to break my record of going 30 seconds without mentioning feces.

So, I have been reading a lot of Dooce lately. (How long was that? Was that 31 seconds? 3 SECONDS?! Are you sure? Okay...) Now, you're probably saying to yourself, "Why Becca?" well, if you're not then you should be.

Well because I stopped over at Matthew Baldwin's Blog, and saw her in his links section. And I followed it. And folly ensued.

I, like Dooce, used soap on my face for YEARS. Harsh shit, that Dial. So, she wrote a post about Cetaphil Cleanser (I still cannot pronounce that word. I am like Ling-Ling from Drawn Together trying to pronounce Prell. It just ain't gonna happen, and that fills me with shame) and I FULLY FUCKING ENDORSE THIS CLEANSER. Holy crap. I look 17 again. And you know what that means, right? Time to go out, get drunk, get on a random L train in Chicago, take it to the end of the line, and call my brother screaming that he needs to come pick me up right this fucking instant! Ahhh the teenage years! I wonder why Jameson doesn't look back on them fondly...

In other news, I am trying to format Penelope's comics to fit on this page. I am also thinking of changing a few things around...who knows! You will all be surprised I guess.

In home news: Yesterday, Eric and I bought a PS2 Slim, and God of War 2. I have not seen my husband since.

In family news: I have decided to start leaving strange messages on my mother's answering machine. She checks her messages ONCE A MONTH, so right around the beginning of April, look for a VERY confused Bannocburne mubling to herself, wringing her hands, and pacing up and down the block.

My first message is as follows:

In a strange, strained Southern Accent "WHY YOU NO CALL YOUR BLACK GRANDMA?!"
*click*

Now, before you go and call me a racist, I had to put black in there. If I didn't, and just said WHY YOU NO CALL YOUR GRANDMA my mother would call her grandmother and thoroughly confuse her as well! So you see, to confuse my mother, I had to add in black just so my great-grandmother doesn't get all confused, start mubling to herself, wringing her hands, and pace around in her Arkansas nursing home.

I like my great-grandmother. She checks her messages.

But obviously I don't like her that much - we stuck her in a nurshing home in ARKANSAS for Ozzy's sake...

Next week's message will be as follows:
In a over-stuffy Washington Upperclass White Guy Accent "Hello Mr. Bannocburne, this is Carl Rove calling to remind you to vote Republican in the 2008 Presidential Election." Pulls phone away from face, slightly muffled "If this fucker doesn't I'll send him right to Gitmo!"
*click*

Somewhere next month my father will screaming high holy hell and telling my mother they are moving to Canada. I can't wait.

Ceta...Cetaphiiil...Cepha...AH GODDAMMIT!

2007-03-26T16:36:00.000-07:00

2007-03-20T18:02:00.000-07:00

Holy fuck...I just created the perfect food! BACONANAS!

2007-03-18T15:11:00.000-07:00

2007-03-17T15:40:00.000-07:00

American Runs on Cocaine...well...at least I do!

2007-01-24T05:41:00.001-08:00

2007-01-23T11:55:00.000-08:00

2007-01-11T05:30:00.000-08:00

Sorry sorry sorry people. I am still ill. But I will make up for it when I get better by uploading a lot of comics. I swear.

In other news: I am getting better. So there ya go. The gypsie curse has been lifted. (And no, that is not code-word for syphilis)

2007-01-04T15:45:00.000-08:00

Yeah, so I am taking another week off (unannounced and all!) because I am seriously ill. Not funny haha sort of ill where I will tell you a funny story about it later, but serious illness ill.

2006-12-28T04:58:00.000-08:00

He Never Invites Me To Come With Him, That Asshole!

2006-12-27T04:56:00.001-08:00

Or do. It's really up to you.

2006-12-26T05:12:00.000-08:00

Sorry about that. Blogger was a'fuckin' up and a took a little but of a vacation there. Comics will resume as scheduled.

2006-12-18T05:22:00.000-08:00

Wait wait wait wait...this doesn't even make sense!

2006-12-15T05:05:00.001-08:00

2006-12-14T05:13:00.001-08:00

Best Parent EVER!

2006-12-13T05:32:00.000-08:00

It's hairy, it's kinda like a small bald man in a cape.

2006-12-12T05:30:00.000-08:00

2006-12-10T18:30:00.000-08:00

Icky Grape!

2006-12-08T05:25:00.000-08:00

This Public Service Annoucement brought to you by the Organization for Non-Foamy Coochies!

2006-12-07T05:15:00.001-08:00

Haha no testicles for YOU Mr. Snowman!

2006-12-06T05:31:00.000-08:00

And take out the garbage once in awhile too!

2006-12-05T04:55:00.000-08:00

Tee hee hee!

2006-12-04T05:12:00.001-08:00

Gee Whiz, You're So Kind!

2006-12-01T07:07:00.000-08:00

100 Posts!

2006-11-30T05:00:00.000-08:00

Hoooooooray Webcomic Is Back!

Oh webcomic, I have missed you SO!

2006-11-29T06:15:00.000-08:00

What am I getting everyone for Xmas this year? Perhaps it's an RSS Feed to myspace since I am pretty much going to keep updating her for right now. Except I am changing my name. Seriously. Fvckpancakes gets stupider every time I fucking update, and I have updated something like 96 times since I started this shit.

So, assuming I can change the name associated with the blog, then I will continue to update here. If not, then I will create a new blogger, and update from there!

If you happen to have a myspace, by the way, you can friend this comic at http://www.myspace.com/theangryhippo.

Ok, here's hoping the name change works!

2006-11-19T13:52:00.000-08:00

Updates from an Angry Hippo

I just tried to upload another image. It did not work. I am severly angry about this. Let's email helpdesk ONE MORE TIME!

I like yahoo. I REALLY like yahoo. It's so simple, a monkey could do it. (Adds to Christmas List - a helper monkey) but it's expensive. So I would have to do some marketing and such, and wait and see what would happen. So, basically, I am at a crossroads here.

I was considering uploading the pics to a flickr or something, and then just posting the links under the current picture, but I don't know. And then there's the alternative. I was considering turning this into a myspace. YEEEEEEEEEEEAH I know. I know. MYSPACE? You're thinking. Yes Myspace. I heard on the radio that teenagers are abandoning myspace in DROVES because their teacher/administrators are on it. So, why not myspace?

Well peeps. I am off to investigate myspace. Either way, I will tenatively create a myspace for the webcomic, and if it takes off, then it takes off. But, by creating a myspace, I need to create a new name, other than fvckpancakes, so henceforth this comic shall be known as "Angry Hippo."

Thank you all for your support, now I am off to that addictive wasteland known as MYSPACE!

2006-11-18T07:02:00.000-08:00

Ok folks, I think I am going to Yahoo. I am not dead set on the decision as of yet, does anyone have any other suggestions?

2006-11-13T17:43:00.000-08:00

Update: Still no uploading capabilities. Fuck. FUCK FUCK FUCK. Double fuck.

It is time to investigate some new options. I have decided that in the event that i need to move this site, this one shall remain up, but I will start to upload new comics as well as old ones at the same time, so if(when) the new site emerges, every other day or so will be an old comic, and then a new comic. Get it? It's the lazy man's way of updating!

And now, let's see what kind of story I can crank out to keep you occupied until I figure out what is going on:

Becca's Fake Teeth

Few people know this about me, unless they have been Cosmic/Glo Bowling with me, but some of my teeth are * gasp * fake. This is the story of how they got to be that way.

(The comsmic/glo bowl reference is when under a blacklight, my teeth glow A LOT and thus are obvious which ones are fake. If you do not know what cosmic/glo bowling is then I pity you because YOU HAVE NOT LIVED YOU FOOL!)

Long ago, in the early 90s (or late 80s) I got a pair of roller skates. i took to them like pigs to anal sex. (Sorry, this story isn't really graphic so I am trying to make it so, in the standard of my last two fecal stories.) My brother had a brown banana seat bike. One of my favorite activities was tying a jumprope to the end of his bike an having him pull me on my roller skates. I am quite sure this was not one of Jameson's favorite activities, but this isn't his blog, so screw him!

Well, one day, he is pulling me, and we get to the end of the block. Now, the end of my block is where roots from trees have pushed up and cracked the sidewalk all funky-like. When we get to this part, I trip. My hands are tangled in the jump rope, and I cannot get free. And Jameson keeps going. Not for very long, mind you, just like, 5 feet or so. If you ask my mother, however, she will tell you he dragged me five blocks and then beat me with reeds or some such nonsense. That five feet, however, managed to mangle my legs pretty badly, and while I was tangled, I could not keep my head up. My face kept hitting the ground.

When I stand up, Jameson is OBVIOUSLY scared shitless. So, we run home. My mother is bawling her eyes out. I am in shock, and feel no pain, so it doesn't exactly bother me much. Before she drives me to the hospital, she reams Jameson out and tells him he has to go outside and pick up every peice of tooth he can find as a punishment. He subsequently comes back with a bunch of pebbles and Lord only knows what. Right about now you should be feeling badly for Jameson, he was like, 8 or something, and had no idea what bits of ground up teeth look like, but did not want to come home empty handed, so he picked up whatever he could find.

The hospital patches up my legs, and tells my mother to see a dentist and to not let me eat anything solid or too hot or too cold. Hurray for room tempature bananas. Holy crap. i just figured out why I don't like bananas.

Now my teeth get replaced, I am not some horrible snaggled-toothed monster or anything (if I could upload images, I would have a close-up of Jewel right now). And you shouldn't feel sorry for me. Not yet at least. The replacement of teeth took awhile, but it also meant I never needed braces, which was a plus, just ask my sister Penelope.

Here's where you sholdl start pitying me:
Three weeks later, i have to go see the dentist again. he didn't like that the whole time he is replacing teeth, i didn't feel anything. Oh yes, all my nerves are dead. I need about 7 root canals. Why should you feel badly for me NOW, and not before? Well, because my mother didn't say WHY I had to go back to the dentist, I just had to. I didn't find out until I got there. And then the dentist explained WHAT a root canal WAS, and I gotta tell you, they aren't pleseant, and they are downright scarey. Nothing like drilling DANGEROUSLY close to one's brain to make you feel less than immortal.

After the root canals my father takes me out for Taco Bell. i think this is more for his amusement than anything else. Beans + Cheese + Novacain + Seven Year Old = Pretty Fucking Funny

2006-11-09T15:55:00.000-08:00

...and this pic isn't showing up either. After 2 weeks of trying, I am getting SERIOUSLY FUCKING PISSED OFF.

2006-11-09T15:52:00.000-08:00

So, here's my problem: Very often when Blogger is acting up, I wait a couple of days to post a new comic, because the problem is usually on Blogger's side and it works itself out. In this instance, I waited a whole two weeks. I have switched over to Blogger Beta, now associated with Google, in hopes that would fix the problem. It has NOT. So, I am going to send an email to the tech people saying this isn't funny anymore, and I am receiving emails about when is my blog going to be back up, and if the problem persists, I am going to switch to a new site. Just not that horrible, horrible Xanga. Eww.

To keep you all entertained in the meantime, here's a humorous story about my childhood:

Becca Poops

My mother used to put my brother Jameson and I down for naps around noon. She said that when we didn't get our naps we were cranky little assholes. So, around noon one day, she put us down for our nap. Nothing unusal about this day, just a normal nap in which Jameson and I would pretend to sleep while our mother drank and watched some 80s version of the Jerry Springer Show.

Except on this day, I actually fell asleep, as did Jameson. When I awoke, nestled next to my arm was a bright, shiney new poop. I don't know how it got there, but I was certain it was my own. I panicked! I knew how my mother reacted when I wet the bed, I was SURE she would be angry as hell if suddenly her daughter was pooping in her sleep - out of her ARM NO LESS!

So, I run to the bathroom. Not to flush it mind you. No. For whatever reason, my 4 year old self didn't see that as a viable option at the time. I grabbed toilet paper.

I came back to the bedroom, and covered the poop with toilet paper, thinking to myself, "Yes, that will surely fool everyone!"

Then - reality seeped in, like the smell of a freshly laid turd on a bedsheet (which in this case, WAS actually seeping at this point) - this wouldn't do. No, this wouldn't do at all! Who would believe that someone came into my bedroom, took a crap on my bed, then carefully covered it with toilet paper. No this wouldn't do at all! So, I looked around the room, wrenching my four-year-old chubby hands in worry. Then I saw it. My savior!

My brother had two toy boxes for his leggos. One blue, and one red. They were about 6 inches deep, and a foot long. I liked the blue one, that was the one with the better, newer leggos. The red box's fate was sealed.

I carefully empied the leggos into the blue box, one by one, as to not make any noise to wake up Jameson, or alert my mother. Then I carefully picked up my little brown friend, and laid it in the box. Crawling under Jameson's bed, I put it as far back as I could. And laid back down on my bed, sure of my freedom and confident in my crime.

After Jameson woke up, we went downstairs, played for awhile, and the turd was completely out of my mind.

Three months later, it was July. The house we were living in did not have air conditioning. Our bedroom was on the top floor. My mother complained that our bedroom smelled like the ape house at the zoo. By this time, I had completely forgotten the turd.

By fall, the smell had almost completely disappeared. But my mother - oh my mother - the clean freak, decided that she MUST CLEAN OUR ROOM OR THAT SMELL WILL RETURN! So, in the midst of cleaning our room, she finds the red leggo box.

The anxiety overflowed in me. Again, I began wrenching my little pudgy four year old hands. Oh what to do! I am about to be found out! Deep down inside of me though, I wondered if it would still be there. When you go in the bathroom, it just disappears! Maybe it won't be there...maybe it will have just gone away...my mother opens the box...

Inside, there was a white, petrified turd, completely surrounded by mold. When I say surrounded I mean the mold covered every inch of the box. My mother let out a blood curtling scream and dropped the box. I caught a glimpse of what was inside, and was AMAZED!

I had given birth to a miracle! My poop died, and in it's wake it left a ghost! And a surprising amount of mold! I'm gonna be FAMOUS! I made a ghost turd!

But my jubilation did not last. My mother saw my little hands clapsed in excitement, and instantly knew it was me.

The icy glare. Oh how I will never forget it! She used my full name in asking me WHY IN GOD'S NAME I TOOK A SHIT IN MY BROTHER'S LEGGO BOX. i wasn't quite sure what a shit was, but even though I was in trouble - I was still excited. After all, I made a miracle!

She didn't even let me explain my overjoyment of discovering this miracilous event because she reamed me out and punished me. I belive my father's suggestion was to let my brother shit in my dollhouse. My mother was horrified. I thought it was a pretty good suggestion - perhaps then we could make ANOTHER ghost poop!

Many years would go by in which after taking a poop I would wait and watch it in the water, figuring it would drown and leave behind a ghost for me to show my mother and thereby have another miracle under my belt. It never happened. Oh well. Such is life.

2006-11-04T14:55:00.000-08:00

Sorry, I went on Vacation to Baltimore. Sorry for the lack of notice, and the lack of comics. I firmly resolve to amend my non-updating ways.

UPDATE: For whatever reason, after much trying to upload this - it is STILL NOT SHOWING UP. I will keep trying, I promise.

2006-10-23T17:27:00.000-07:00

Can you taste the ass burning excellence?

2006-10-22T10:33:00.000-07:00

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMonkies!

2006-10-19T18:26:00.000-07:00

2006-10-16T18:07:00.000-07:00

2006-10-15T14:49:00.000-07:00

2006-10-14T09:25:00.000-07:00

2006-10-10T15:36:00.000-07:00

2006-10-08T16:07:00.000-07:00

2006-10-06T15:59:00.000-07:00

2006-10-05T17:15:00.000-07:00

2006-10-01T16:57:00.000-07:00

2006-09-30T05:14:00.000-07:00

2006-09-29T17:33:00.000-07:00

2006-09-28T15:53:00.000-07:00

I have defeated the DEATH FLU!

2006-09-24T14:41:00.000-07:00

2006-09-21T19:25:00.000-07:00

He Ain't Getting Any!

2006-09-20T20:36:00.000-07:00

2006-09-19T16:37:00.000-07:00

Fear the Toe

2006-09-18T18:51:00.000-07:00

For Thomas

2006-09-16T16:41:00.000-07:00

2006-09-16T10:33:00.000-07:00

Quit Yer Bitchen'!

2006-09-14T18:21:00.000-07:00

What is Baby Riley Thinking About?

Oh yeah, he's related to George!

2006-09-13T18:53:00.000-07:00

See - this is why I don't babysit faries! I always forget to punch holes in the jar...

Peter Pan is gonna be sooooooooooooooooooooo pissed!

2006-09-11T18:19:00.000-07:00

2006-09-10T06:05:00.000-07:00

So yesterday, I didn't post any pictures. Now, you're probably wondering WHY, right? (Other than because I am a big honkie bitch)

I was out with Jameson and Penelope. We went on a CRAB RUN. A crab run consists of my brother Jameson driving, and my sister Penelope and I eating crab like it's going extinct. Then we throw the empty crab shells out the window...for the birds, of course... and then we go a'stalking!

And then we went to try to steal dirt from my friend Springfield's old house in the Suburbs of Chicago, and lo and behold! Someone LEVELED it and parked their trailer over it. And weed wacked her entire garden.

The most interesting fact of all though:
The house is still standing, and it is up for sale. Yes, for mere dollars a day, you could live in a suburb of Chicago in a house with a VERY nice lawn.

I don't know about my brother and sister, but I had to resist the urge to take off my shoes and go running through it barefoot.

Yep. I said it. I have hippy-like tendencies!

2006-09-10T06:03:00.000-07:00

2006-09-10T06:02:00.000-07:00

What what WHAT?!

2006-09-08T19:08:00.000-07:00

Shit...roll up the windows!

2006-09-07T13:55:00.000-07:00

Please Don't Stab Me!

So, I accidentally walked into a blade Eric was holding, a very pointy, sharp, sword-shaped blade. I have a very large owie. And now I know I am allergic to band aids too! I am learning new, violently painful things about myself DAY BY DAY!

Band Aids = Blisters

2006-09-07T13:30:00.000-07:00

Such a naughty, naughty computer!

2006-09-06T16:24:00.000-07:00

Jameson, Parts I & II

2006-09-05T17:15:00.000-07:00

*sniff sniff* Smells like a rip-off!

2006-09-05T17:12:00.000-07:00

2006-09-04T11:43:00.000-07:00

Heck yes I want some salsa. Tomato, you are onto something!

2006-09-03T12:48:00.000-07:00

Now that's better!

2006-09-03T12:31:00.000-07:00

2006-09-02T10:33:00.000-07:00

2006-09-01T15:59:00.000-07:00

2006-09-01T15:57:00.000-07:00

Uh Oh

2006-08-31T17:03:00.000-07:00

Fucking Sun

2006-08-31T16:58:00.000-07:00

Alienating My Core Audience One Comic at a Time!

2006-08-31T16:55:00.000-07:00

2006-08-30T17:28:00.000-07:00

2006-08-30T17:26:00.000-07:00

They makes a bloody mess

2006-08-30T17:09:00.000-07:00

FUCKING SAVAGE!

2006-08-30T16:34:00.000-07:00

And What a Parade it is!

2006-08-29T17:26:00.000-07:00

Every Dollar Goes to Helping Pami...

...get drunk!

2006-08-29T16:54:00.000-07:00

MMMMMMMMM I bite their heads off first...

2006-08-28T18:01:00.000-07:00

BECCA'S FUTURE CARNIVAL RIDE

Now don't go stealing it!

2006-08-28T17:36:00.000-07:00

For Corinne (So She lets me Cheat off of her Tomorrow at Work)

2006-08-28T16:18:00.000-07:00

A 3 a.m. Cocktopus

I woke up in the middle of the night to write down this idea: Cocktopus.

Pronounced like octopus, only with cock in front of it. I woke up, and wrote this down, and circled it to denote importance.

No wonder my mother thinks I am on drugs.

2006-08-27T15:15:00.000-07:00

Becca's Recipe for a Successful Party!