I hate the Macy's Christmas ads. I don't know how this even passed through the viewing. As these uncaring titans of industry recite "Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus" I am just struck by who they got to say it. I mean, Donald Trump? Martha Stewart? Calvin Klein? Was Gov. Rod Blagojevich busy? I thought of a new commercial they can use in case they are looking to make another one with some more caring souls.
Based on a true story. Today I went into an Apple store to dress my 1st gen touch in some new clothes. An amazing spectrum awaited me of various space age technologies fit to protect my poor lil guy from the atrocities which occur in my pockets. Much to my horror, each case was for the new slimmer version. I pulled a local rep to my aid and asked him if any fit the 1st gen Touch, which produced an awkward 10 seconds as I motioned with my hands to form a 1st gen model comprised of air and he formed half words before he abandoned them in frustration. Finally I unsheathed my friend from his denim cage (my Ipod); in the pit of my stomach I felt shame like I had pulled out an Apple Newton. Silence was all he could muster as he regrouped for his exodus, he blurted in disgust "umm, you might check the racks". Smiling, I imagined his head as a spinning pinwheel and returned to my hunt. I eventually found one in the back of the rack behind some of the new cases, beat up and abused like an Atari 2600 game long forgotten by time. Check out the full comic here.
The vastness of space has always amazed me. We make these words like light years to help our minds grasp the size of something so stunningly large that it would make our heads hurt to even try to think about the size. Click here for the comic.
Based on actual events. I made it through the entire sewers, broke past the sentries, killed all spies and before me laid a herd of enemies unaware of the binary doom that was cast upon them. My medic hit the Uber and the Invulnerability clock started, I had 10 seconds or so of complete invincibility to lay waste to the entire offense and make way for our troops to get in and secure the briefcase which we lusted for. I fired off a rocket which missed, hitting the wall behind them sounding the OH CRAP alarms sending them scattering for cover like frightened gazel from the lion. The crosshairs set on a still unaware engineer working on his sentry, I pressed fire only to realize that my rocket launcher was out of ammo. 8 seconds of innefective shotgun blast later and my body supplied a recoat of red for their walls. Remember kids; rocket, reload, refill, repeat.
Random sketch that one day I will turn into a piece. The closer you get, the more you have to die to yourself.
