Blast From The Past!

Way back in 1999 my pal KW Monster and I collaborated on a comic strip called Shrunken-Head Joe that ran in the local free paper. You can read all about that and see the strip here.

Once that particular SHJ story was over we ran a few filler comics while trying to come up with a new adventure. This was one of them. Obviously it's based on those old Johnson Smith ads found in the backs of comic books. And obviously you'll have to zoom in to read it.

The whole time we were doing the Shrunken-Head Joe story the editor of the paper never once complained or demanded any changes. Then one day he actually read the strip and suddenly he was nitpicking every little thing and refusing to run that month's comic unless we bowed to his capricious whims and changed it.

He especially hated this particular strip for some reason. His main beef was with the "Anal Kazoo" in the upper right hand corner. Apparently in his mind the word "anal" was the most vile and horrific word a human could ever utter (never mind that it's a medical term), and demanded we change it. We did, and changed it to "Wahoo Kazoo," which we thought was not only better but funnier as well. Oddly enough he hated that name even more! I can't remember now for certain, but I think he went ahead and ran it (because he was up against his deadline and didn't have anything else to run) but told us that our services would no longer be needed. Yes, we were fired from the free newspaper.

Enjoy this rare piece of journalistic history!

Now THAT'S Scary!

A month or so ago my pal KW Monster and I went to the Fright Night Film Fest in beautiful downtown Louisville.

Among the many attractions at the show was a booth taking green screen photos of people... at no charge! Never one to pass up anything free we had are picture taken, complete with murder props and spooky background matted in behind us.

The results were terrifying to say the least! I don't know which one is scarier, KW's brain dead gaze or my murder-death-kill scowl. By the way, that's the same look I will give you when I'm behind you in the grocery checkout line and you wait until the clerk tells you the total before you start looking for your checkbook.

There were several backgrounds to chose from, such as abandoned shopping mall, creepy mansion and the one we chose, dilapidated hotel. There's actually a couple of twin girls, ala The Shining, at the end of the hallway, but KW is covering them up.

I'm not sure how taking free scary photos of people makes the tshirtbordello.com people any money, but hey, free scary photo!

Lucy Seifert 1997 - 2012

I am very saddened to report the death of Lucy the wiener dog.

Lucy was not my dog, she belonged to my pal KW Monster. Nevertheless I knew her for fifteen long years. I saw her every time I went to KW's house and I would occasionally babysit her in my home. In a way I felt like she was partly my dog. She was personable, playful, very intelligent and up for anything. Most of all she was a fun little furry pal.

"Hey Big-Head, I need to go outside, NOW."

I remember the first time I ever saw Lucy. I went to KW's house and sat down on his couch. Lucy came barreling into the room, heading right toward me. I chuckled to myself a bit, figuring there was no way a dog with such tiny legs would ever be able to jump up onto the couch with me. When she was about ten feet away she literally flew across the room and landed beside me on the couch, eager to see who I was and what was going on. Bear in mind that when I say she flew, that's exactly what I mean. Her stubby legs lifted from the ground and she sailed upward into the air like a missile. I was absolutely gobsmacked. Astonished even. I'd never seen anything like that before.

I used to babysit Lucy when KW would go out of town; often for two or three weeks at a time. She never made much of a fuss about it; she seemed to accept her new situation and environment without any trouble and quickly fell into the routine of my household. 

I always wondered what she thought of this arrangement. Did she just think that KW was at work for an exceptionally long time (three weeks!) and would eventually come back? I can't see how she could possibly know that. Did she think, "Well, I guess that other guy's gone and I live with this guy now?" Too bad we'll never know.

I remember the first time KW took a trip and was separated from Lucy for an extended period. She was apparently greatly offended by his absence and when he returned, she wouldn't "speak" to him for about a week. She wouldn't even look at him and when he'd try to pet her she'd pull away. It was exactly like watching a petulant child. She was most definitely punishing him for leaving her. After about a week she got over it and forgave him.

"Hulk smash! Ride War Steed into battle!"

Amazingly Lucy never bothered anything that didn't belong to her. KW would leave DVDs, books and shoes lying on the floor, as well as several expensive guitars resting on stands, all well within her reach. Lucy never once bothered any of that stuff. She had her own toys and never touched any of KW's. This discipline carried over to my house as well. In all the times I watched her she never bothered any of my stuff either. Her one weakness: the trash. Occasionally the siren's call of the trash can would overpower her and she'd knock it over and spread the contents all over KW's kitchen floor. But it didn't happen very often.

Lucy's main hobby over the years was licking her paws. Her delicious, succulent paws. She spent most of her waking time lying down and licking her front paws. It's a wonder she didn't lick them off. Her vet suggested it was an allergy, but I wonder if it was a habit, like a human constantly cracking their knuckles or clearing their throat.

Baby got back! Lucy during her "chunky" period.

Lucy was a very intelligent dog and I truly believe she had the ability to think. One day KW came home from work and noticed that the kitchen rug was lying out in the middle of the floor, instead of by the door as it should have been. He picked up the rug to move it and saw that there were a couple of Lucy's poops underneath. Apparently earlier in the day Lucy just couldn't hold it any longer and pooped on the floor. Panicked, she realized she'd done a Bad Thing and would be punished for it. So she walked over to the rug, grabbed it in her teeth and dragged it out to the middle of the floor and covered her poops with it. The perfect crime!

That right there showed me that she had the capacity for abstract thought. She was able to think ahead several hours and recognize that punishment would be forthcoming. She then formulated a plan to hide the evidence, thereby avoiding said punishment. That's chimp or toddler level thinking right there. By the way, KW was so impressed with her quick thinking that he didn't have the heart to punish her for pooping on the floor (that time).

Lucy could understand many words as well. Included in her vocabulary: she knew the difference between "bone" (her rawhide chew) and "ball," and would pick up whichever one you called out to her. She also understood the difference between "eat," "drink" and "get in your bed." And of course, "potty."

Lucy was broke when she first started out so she was forced to pose nude for Playmutt magazine.

Speaking of potty, the one thing I did not enjoy about watching Lucy: letting her out to poop and pee. KW would just let her out and go about his business inside while she went about hers outside. I never did that when I watched her as I was afraid she might run off. So I would stay outside and keep an eye on her while she went.

She would slowly and deliberately make her way around my backyard, sniffing the ground intently as she searched for just the Right Spot in which to relieve herself. Apparently in the world of dogs, this is a Big Deal. She'd sometimes wander around for ten to fifteen minutes before finding the optimum spot to take a crap. Once I sat out there for twenty interminable minutes waiting on her. I was pleading with her, saying, "Please Lucy, I'm begging you. POOP ALREADY so I can go to bed!" She sniffed around some more, stopped, sniffed more intently and then finally screwed herself up and got into the "position." "Thank Thor," I thought, near tears. Then at the last second she aborted the mission and started sniffing around again, to my groaning vexation.

I can't say for sure, but I have a sneaking suspicion that she was playing me; deliberately drawing out these poop sessions just to spend more time outside.

Whenever I babysat Lucy she would spend most of her time dozing (or licking her paws) at my feet while I sat at the computer and drew. She would follow me from room to room, unwilling to let me out of her site, lest I disappear as KW apparently had. A few years ago I painted my kitchen and she spent the whole weekend keeping me company, sitting in the doorway intently watching my every move.

Like most dogs, Lucy was terrified of the vacuum cleaner. I tried not to use it if she was around (I can go a lonnnnng time without vacuuming if I have to), but sometimes I had no choice. Whenever I would use it, afterward it'd take me a while to find her again. Usually I'd find her hiding way back under my bed, safe from the hideous shrieking vacuum demon.

Ever vigilant: Lucy protecting my porch from the dreaded squirrel menace.

Lucy was of course a dachshund and had the breed's characteristic elongated torso. When something spooked her and she took off running for her bed, hilariously her back end was faster than her front end. Her butt would actually overtake her front half until she was running virtually sideways. Made me laugh every time I saw it.

I liked to play the Security Game with her when she stayed at my house. KW trained Lucy to bark whenever he'd say the word "Security" and to stop when he'd say "Safe." So I would see how close I could get to the word "security" before she'd bark. I'd suddenly yell, "Seppepity!" and she'd give me the stink eye, no doubt wondering what the hell was wrong with me. "Segoogidy" didn't work either. But I lost the game when I'd yell "Seckity." Apparently that was too close to "security" and she started barking.

In recent months her age began to catch up with her and her hearing came and went and her vision began to fade. Because she was a dog, she didn't let these maladies get her down though. Unlike most dogs her age she was still playful well into her old age. She was even learning new tricks right up to the end. Just a few months ago she learned to sit up and beg, which is quite a feat for a dachshund.

I'm really going to miss babysitting her and hearing her paddling little feet follow me from room to room.

Shrunken-Head Joe in The Terror From The Desert

In 1998 my friend KW Monster created a character called Shrunken-Head Joe to star in a comic strip in the local free newspaper. Joe was a swinging singer/adventurer who traveled the world with his inexplicably hot girlfriend Gwen. Oh, and Joe just happened to have a shrunken head. I read it in the paper, became a big fan, contacted KW by email, and a friendship was born.

In 1999, we collaborated on a second Joe comic strip. This time I wrote and penciled the story and KW co-wrote and inked it. The end result is interesting; the art sort of looks like both our styles, but not quite. It's a weird synthesis of the two. KW often accused me of packing excruciating detail into each panel, knowing that he would have to ink over it. I don't know where he got that notion. Doesn't everyone draw every single leaf on a tree?

Our collaborative strip was planned for 12 issues but ended up running for 14 and was a moderate hit; for many years after we would get compliments from local citizens. Then one day the editor of the paper actually read the comic and we were unceremoniously fired. Shrunken-Head Joe, we hardly knew ye!

Anyway, without further ado I present our strip, Shrunken-Head Joe in The Terror From The Desert. Obviously you'll have to click each image in order to read it. I'll try and keep my comments on each installment to a minimum.

The story is an homage to 1950s sci-fi giant insect movies such at THEM! and The Deadly Mantis. I wanted it to have a definite B-movie structure and feel.

KW, who in addition to being an artist is also a fine musician and song writer, wrote the lyrics to all the songs that Joe and Gwen sing in the story.

That Joe really knows how to treat a lady, doesn't he?

That's the classic "Something The Character Can See Just Offscreen That The Audience Can't" trope there in the last panel.

Just for fun, I named most of the characters in the story after those in various giant monster movies. Patricia and Professor Medford were named after characters in THEM! Mitch Macafee is named after the hero of The Giant Claw (one of my all time favorite movies). I can't remember what movies Sheriff Andrews and Joe Burch's names are from. It's been too many years.

Obviously Patricia Medford's appearance owes more than a little to 1950s pin-up queen Betty Page.

Note the sign in front of the diner in the second panel: "Get your Supper, Dessert & Dinner at the Super Desert Diner!" That's KW's joke. He noticed that if you double the middle consonants of "super," "desert" and "diner" you get three new words all related to meal time. Weird. He's always sitting around noticing things like that.

As I mentioned earlier, I penciled the strip and KW inked it, and he accused me of packing way too much detail into the panels in order to torture him. Look at the bottom left panel. Now I ask you, does drawing the cups and plates underneath the diner counter seem excessive to you? I call it attention to detail.

Another song written by KW. If I'm not mistaken I think he actually recorded this one, singing the lyrics and playing all the instruments himself.

As previously mentioned, I wanted a 1950s B-movie feel here. To that end, I wanted the Ant Men to look like they were men in rubber suits, and tried my best to draw them that way, complete with seams and eye holes.

Panels four and nine are sporting a definite manga influence. As for the last panel, I was never one to pass up an opportunity to show some gore. 

I love this chapter, if I do say so myself. One of the hallmarks of 1950s giant bug movies was the ridiculously inaccurate science, usually involving radiation or radar doing things they can't possibly do. I did my best to come up with the most preposterous "scientific" explanation possible.

So in what era does this story take place? The 1950s? The look and attitudes are definitely from there, but I'm not sure. When I was writing it I honestly didn't think about whether it was taking place in the past or a weird version of the present. Maybe it's like the universe in which the Universal Studios Frankenstein and Wolfman movies occur. Those movies had castles and villagers with torches, yet people were driving cars and using phones.

Hey, we get some visual Com-O-Dee there in panels eight and nine. Wakka wakka!

Also note the wiener dog in panel five. That's KW's dog Lucy. For some reason I drew her in at least one panel in each chapter. Take my word for it, she's in every one.

I tried to always make sure that the characters in the background were "acting;" that is doing something as opposed to just standing there like mannequins. It makes things seem more realistic. For example, in panel two Mitch isn't listening to the Sheriff and is trying to keep an eye on Patricia, who he thinks is devoting a little too much attention to Joe.

Ah, the old "The Monsters Don't See Us As A Threat So They're Ignoring Us" trope there in panel eight. If only I had a dime every time that's been used in a movie.

Again, KW accused me of deliberately adding too much detail. I don't think it was unreasonable to draw every single person visible in every one of the hundreds of giant pods, do you?

Say, that Ant Queen's kinda hot!

I actually felt bad when I killed off Sheriff Andrews, but someone needed to die to show that the group was in actual danger, and he was the only character I could spare.

Finally we get to see why Joe would bother dragging his guitar with him down into a dangerous giant anthill.

Note that everyone's word balloons have normal straight lines except for Joe's, which are all wavy. That's to show that Joe has a weird, monstery voice. KW once said he imagined Joe sounded like a cross between Boris Karloff and Humphrey Bogart.

In virtually every giant insect movie from the 1950s, a civilian would invariably end up commanding or at the very least strongly influencing the military.

General Buskirk was named after a character in The Giant Claw. 

Ah, the giant pile of something to lure the monster into the middle of town. Another classic B-movie trope.

When you get down to it, Joe's really a sadistic and manipulative bastard, isn't he? And yet he's still somehow likable. 

Always end your movie with an explosion.

The strip was not without its problems though. Each month I'd dash to the local grocery store to pick up a copy of the free paper and eagerly turn to the back to see our comic printed in glorious black and white. I'd invariably be disappointed as it would be a fuzzy, downright muddy mess. All our hard work and detail was for naught. In some cases you couldn't even read the text. I didn't understand what was wrong; each month I'd email a crisp, clean jpeg image to the editor of the paper, and each month it would print out blurry.

After many inquires we eventually found out that instead of simply using the file I emailed him, the editor would download my nice clean jpeg, then print it out to paper and then scan the printout in order to get it into his computer! Why he was doing this, I have absolutely no idea. We explained and explained and pleaded with him to stop doing this for months before it finally took, and finally the last three or four chapters were readable. Some people's children!

By the way, the free paper paid us the princely sum of $30 for each comic we drew, which KW and I split. So we definitely weren't doing this for the money.

We also had quite an elaborate Shrunken-Head Joe website going for a while back in the late 1990s. Then in 2000 the company I worked for folded, and since they were hosting the site, it vanished as well. 

I think there's still some life left in Shrunken-Head Joe. Maybe one of these days we'll bring him back.