Three years ago today, I awoke with a mission. I was going to grow wings, fly to Mars, and fuck each and every Martian I could find. All holes. Any holes. Dudes, chicks, transgenders, Siamese twins. It didn’t matter. I was a man with a plan, and on Mars nothing is impossible. Unfortunately for me, and each and every Martian babe and hottie bro, my girlfriend awoke. Slathered in my own spittle and hanging precariously from our roof, she calmly Michael Jordan’d a deec amount of lamotrigine down my gullet. No backboard, all throat. Teary-eyed, I went from crying that my wings weren’t working to politely asking her to pull me up into the house.I was too heavy, we both fell. She broke her tailbone and my fall.

When I recovered later that day, I decided I would start a blog.

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The sequel to this summer’s best comic book movie (heh) has gotten itself an official release date. You better maintain regular doctor visits and practice some calisthenics on the side. You’ve got some living to do until the movie drops. Don’t want to make it to like, six months out, and get rocked by a heart attack.

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I don’t really understand the legal mumbo jumbo that is going on in the Shuster estate’s attempt to reclaim the rights to the Super-Man. They’re in a really righteous arm wrestling match with DC, I know that. There’s probably like a zillion bucks on the line, I know that too. But who is in the right? What the motions mean? Not even.

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Mass Effect 3 is finally getting some DLC that isn’t promising to fix the ending. Those lasses and lads at BioWare really through themselves off their schedule when they decided to shit directly into the game code after about thirty hours of fun. They’ve finally doubled back around though, and are ready to release some new content.

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This video has melted my mind. It has forced me to evolved, and for that I am better off. I know it is probably like tots old for the 4chan and tumblr wizards out there, but I’m just getting my first taste. It is the wonder.

The following is probably a work of fiction.

It is Jennifer Lawrence’s birthday. National holiday. I knew that Jennifer Lawrence would love me right from the get-go. Now, don’t call this a coincidence, because you’re jealous. The first time, I swear the first time I saw The Hunger Games she winked at me. Right at me! This isn’t an optical illusion. Right as she is climbing into that little pod-tube thing to writhe about for a tepid forty minutes in a death match, she winked.

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No sooner do I get my rocks off celebrating the release of a new issue of Butcher Baker: Righteous Maker does news arrive that the comic book has been canceled. It wasn’t just canceled all peacefully like, either. Son of a bitch has become the center of an imbroglio between the two creators.

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Well shit. You have to hand it to David Cronenberg. Dude isn’t afraid to come out of the gate spitting hot fire everywhere, mercilessly mowing down pop culture sacred cows. Even though I disagree with the dude, fuck it. He has earned his place in my heart, and even if I disagree I have to respect the man’s musings.

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I suppose this is one way to get a nation talking about a movie. Nothing more American than rudely rubbing our bloated, sweaty, confrontational balls all over a foreign country’s culture. Yeehaw!

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Wednesday. The delicious oasis in the middle of the weekly grind. Deliver us from 9-5. Deliver us from Cubicles. Deliver us in the form of weekly sequential artwork. Laser beams. Righteous makers. Providing just enough escape to slog through the last two days. This here is Buy These F**king Comics!, the column where we share the various titles we’re excited for on a given week. This column is powered by audience interaction, so if you see my poor taste and me abstaining from mentioning a title, throw it into the ring. Sharing is caring.

Don’t know what is arriving on shelves? Hit up Comic List. It’s cool. We’ll wait.
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