"But I Guess They Didn't..." - Unca Jeffy's Spontaneous Comics!

More "New Beginnings".

If you can't tell 13 year old me and my mother apart, I'm the one with the red hair.  :)

Talk to you soon.

OUR STORY THUS FAR: Jeffy is doing what he calls "Spontaneous Comics".  No layout, no photo-shopping/color/cut&paste/layering, not always a beginning or end, just what's in his head at the moment.

"I Keep Starting.." - Unca Jeffy's Spontaneous Comics!

I see sparkly things...:)

Talk to you soon.

OUR STORY THUS FAR: Jeffy is doing what he calls "Spontaneous Comics".  No layout, no photo-shopping/color/cut&paste/layering, not always a beginning or end, just what's in his head at the moment.

Turf Log - Favorite Kid's Jokes - pt. 2

"What did the snail say when he was riding on the back of the turtle?"

It's all relative kids.

Talk to you soon!

Turf Log - Favorite Kid's Jokes pt. 1

It's the apex of summer and fair and vacation season. It's the time when the old man spends more time with his kids than he may be used to and when nephews and nieces are foisted upon their "fun" uncle to spend time with.

As an adult you may be thrust into a world where your conversation skills are put to the test as you find common ground on which to walk with little snotty-clumsy-stupid miniature people. This can be a challenge.

Luckily I've come to a point in my life where that challenge no longer presents itself, as I've proven myself to be a bad influence AND bad company for most adults, let alone children...but for those of you in this predicament I thought I'd pass on to you some of my favorite "kids" jokes.

Use them in good health...


Trust me. This one will make you "golden" with the tykes.

More tomorrow.

Talk to you soon!

Turf Log - Stan Lee Is As Big A Shmuck As Me! There I Said It!

Well...I got my issues all straightened out with Joe Simon...

...but I'm still frustrated with Stan "The Man" Lee!

They say you always hate in other people, those things you dislike in yourself.

Sigh!

Talk to you soon!

Turf Log - Stan Lee is a Shmuck, Captain America Told Me So

Ted Dawson over at "Three Men in a Tub" reported yesterday that the preview trailer for the next big Marvel Comics movie "Captain America: The First Avenger" that was shown at last weekends San Diego Comic Con, featured this little tidbit in it's credits.


Hmmmmm. It's always been my understanding, that Captain America was created by Joe Simon and Jack Kirby. At the time Stan Lee was at best, filling ink wells, fetching coffee and sandwiches and emptying trash cans for the writers and artists at Marvel...I mean Timely Comics.

It was the least he could do, I mean he was the 19 year old cousin of publisher Martin Goodman's wife...the little pimply-snot-nosed brat needed SOME kind of a job.

I can imagine though how the mix up in the credits happened though...


I guess it pays to be the last man standing. With Joe Simon and Jack Kirby both departed from this mortal coil, [IT HAS BEEN CALLED TO MY ATTENTION IN THE COMMENTS SECTION THAT JOE SIMON IS STILL ALIVE. MY APOLOGIES FOR NOT KNOWING THIS, AMMENDS TO BE MADE IN TOMORROWS BLOG!] Stan gets dibs on whatever he wants. He did after-all have a part in Captain America's revival in the 1960's...oh wait...Jack Kirby did a lot of that too.

What the hell. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Marvel's next big movie after Cap won't be coming out till next year sometime. With Stan fast approaching 90 years old, maybe he'll be dead by then, so I best get my name in the hat!


Dirty stinking Swedes. You gonna believe them and all that history junk or me???

Talk to you soon!

Turf Log - More Power to All You Folks Who've Found It!

Talk to you soon.

Hey Todd Snider...sing me that one about "Horseshoe Lake" and deciding between work and fishin'...between your future and right the "F" now!

Turf Log - Man on the Moon and What Came After!

Sorry for the lateness of the post. A salute to the first man walking on the moon and all it inspires.

For last years tribute, click here.

Hey Todd Snider, tell us a story and sing your "My Generation, part 2"!

Talk to you soon.

Turf Log - I Hope I Get Old Before I Die...Oh Wait...Too Late!

I was sitting at The Drink Hole having a quiet early evening beer, and over my shoulder I overheard some guy talking to the bartendress. He was using every bad, cutesy line you could imagine while trying to garner her attention and affection. And worse, he delivered them in such a hackneyed, stale, pre-loaded fashion, they sounded as canned as if Travis Bickle had spent the day in front of the mirror rehearsing them. To top it all off, he was loud. Nothing worse than sounding pre-recorded AND loud. No subtlety to his delivery at all, and he was so loud it would interrupt everyone else around's flow. You know the type. There's a difference between having a good time and F-ing up everyone else's good time.

Without even seeing the interaction, I could feel the embarrassment the bartendress ("Cookie" or "Snowflake" or "Kandi" or whatever her name was that day) had for this guy. The disdain and distaste she had for his feeble attempts at being charming.

I knew that this guy had been spreading ill-will between bartendresses and happy-go-lucky bar-flys at every bar he had ever visited. I knew that this thick layer of plastic-coated dullard had numbed my favorite bartendress (for the afternoon) from being receptive to anyone who might be genuinely spontaneous and witty who might come along.

You see...I'm not much to look at. I have what they call "a good face for radio". But when I manage to turn on the charm, I can actually think quickly on my feet and whip out the "suave and debonair".

And once I've managed to catch a girls attention, these mountain-man, haggard looks with the dour demeanor slip away as she notices that I've got the manly yet sensitive blue eyes of an "Adonis"!

As the knob at the bar rambled on and on and on and on...and on...talking louder than everything else at the bar, and laughing even louder at his own trite and uninspired attempts at being funny, I feel the lowering cloud of "ain't gonna be any fun in here tonight, thanks to this dill-weed" falling over the joint. So I decide to turn and look over my shoulder and see what this guy looks like so I can avoid him in any of my haunts in the future and move on.

I turn to see a guy in his mid-40's, just enough over-weight to look "lazy" at first glance, and what's left of his greying hair making a fast retreat to the back of his skull. With a mixture of pity and contempt I turn back to my beer and think to myself, "Geez!...I'm sure glad I'm still young and cool!" and "I hope I have the decency to stay away from this kind of thing when I get like this guy!"

And almost simultaneously as those phrases ring through my head, I turn and catch myself in the mirror.

Sigh.

But you know?

I really was something back in the day.

I'm the guy who once said this...

Ya shoulda seen it!

I was really somethin'!

Talk to you soon.

Sing us a song Jerry Jeff...Let the juke box soothe me.

Turf Log - "Stan Lee was Wrong!"

A few years ago, I was directed by my doctor to undergo a full body CT scan. An evaluation of my innards, which 40 years earlier would have meant slicing me down the middle and the doctor taking a physical inventory...

...100 years earlier, would have meant the "doctor" anointing my body with poultices to drive out "the bad humours"...

...CT scan sounds like a big deal until you put it into perspective.

Over the course of 12 hours before the test, I was instructed to drink about a quart of barium, but otherwise fast (why do they call it a "fast" when it seems to go so slow?).

I arrived at the cardiology lab, sure to wear my lucky "Cat in the Hat" PJ bottoms (no metal snaps allowed in the CT)...

...and the tech placed an IV in my arm containing a radioactive isotope, that would react with the barium and make my innards glow all different colors for the scanner to see!

After taking a reported 386 pictures of all the dark things in my soul, which when processed in sequence on the lab's computer looked like an animation flip-book of a "Fantastic Voyage" through Jeffy-Land...

...the tech's assured me that my lungs, heart, stomach, liver, kidneys, thyroid, et al, were all problem free and I had nothing to worry about.

I added up my years of smoking and drinking and eating deep-fat-fried-cheese-covered-fat with gravy on top, and knew they had obviously mixed up the scan with some other patient's, but figured "The joke's on you, suckas!" and ran...not walked...home...I had my own tests to run.

When I got home I tried it all. Tried to fly, tried to run super-fast, tried to walk through walls, tried to turn invisible, tried to stretch, tried to stick to walls...nothing!

I couldn't even shrink or shoot power beams out of my eyes!

The potent cocktail of barium and radioactive IV had not cause so much as ONE genetic or otherwise molecular mutation!

I had gained NO super powers!!

Stan Lee was WRONG!!

Sigh...oh, well. At least Guy Clark didn't lie to me. Here's a song.

Talk to you soon.

Turf Log - "Free Range Babies"

One day I was discussing something or other (you fill in the blank) with the "Good Reverend Will" that he knew was well out of my experience range compared to him. He remarked with that "old chestnut"...


Well...the joke was on him. You see, my parents didn't believe in diapers and raised me "au natural". I was one of those "Free Range Babies" that you hear so much about.

For the first year of my life I pranced around my nursery, baring myself to the world with only life-giving oxygen caressing my "po-po" instead of the smothering thick cotton of a diaper.

My nursery floor and baseboards protected from my staining them with "Jeffy Extract" by blue-nylon-kiddie-pool liner...which of course was dragged outside and unceremoniously hosed down in the back yard on a nightly basis.

Well into my 20's, whenever I would share a meal with my parents, my father couldn't resist regaling us with tales of the bumper crop of tomatoes he raised the next summer...

My mom said we used to have to leave surplus BLT's on the neighbor's doorsteps at night, we had so many well fertilized tomato...Jeffy-matoes.

Talk to you soon!

Turf Log - Cartoons That Run Through My Head - "The Scar!"

I have a line on my head that some folks think is a scar...

...but is really just a wrinkle caused by a fat guy who sleeps on the same side all the time.

...But that doesn't stop me from telling a good story...

I finally decided on one.

One that was believable enough to gain the listener's rapt attention...until I hyperbolised a little too much...

It involved a 9 meter-range, 27 inch spear gun, a school of man eating sharks and one of those pink, inflatable sea horsies...

Talk to you soon!

Stuff You May Have Missed...That I Hope You Didn't - Part Six

Happy Monday every one. The "real" world continues to eat time from me. My pocket book likes it, though my sleep habits are off a bit. I plan on getting back to new posts tomorrow, but here's one last couple of posts from last summer you may have missed...

"TURF LOG ISSUE 2: KINDEGARDEN, THE FINAL FRONTIER"

"Turf Log" issue #2. Written and Drawn in 1994, color slapped on it in 2009. It's a love story. As always, click the smaller thumbnails to view full size. Enjoy!

Some of the names of the innocent and the guilty have been changed.

The 5 comic book pages here are the original supplemental feature to Turf Log issue #2, "Kindegarten: The Final Frontier". Written and drawn by me back in 1994, with color splashed on them in 2009.

That story was a love story, so the song in the back was of course a love song...one that a 5 year old boy could get behind. This is a song you should all remember from childhood, but just in case your memory is foggy I've included this "Uncle Jeffy Pre-Approved Video" of me singing it to jog your memory.



Now that you've got the tune in your head, sing along with the comic!