Coffee and Discoloration
Almost none of my cartoons come from actual experiences but almost all of them have some element of my life within them. In the case of the cartoon above, I was in a trendy coffee shop on my last trip to the U.S. and there was nowhere to sit because every single seat was taken by a person between the ages of 18 and 30, working on a laptop or tablet. In fact, one would have been challenged to find even a place to lean against a wall as those were covered with many more young people waiting for a seat. (This was Southern California, so no doubt most of them were burgeoning screenwriters.) I remember thinking either this neighborhood needs another coffee shop or the other ones need trendier decor.
Another aspect of this cartoon from my real life (if anything in human life can be called “real”) is that I’ve never been to a dermatologist before a couple of years ago but now schedule regular checkups. For my readers who are not yet over a certain age, no matter how healthy your skin has been your whole life, once you pass halftime you should start paying closer attention to all of the disgusting things your skin is doing. I’ve always had a clear and enviable complexion but in the past year, I’ve had to have a couple of tiny bits of skin cancer removed. Yuck.
If you couldn’t tell by that last paragraph, I’m a bit squeamish about bodily things and don’t like having to stare at bumps and spots and wonder if they’re going to kill me. I cannot imagine being a dermatologist (or almost any other kind of person who has to touch the flesh of strangers) but I’m glad some people are willing.
My dermatologist here is a Mexican woman and the drawing above resembles her a bit, although I’ve never seen her angry. One funny thing is that I don’t think she knows I’m a cartoonist, but lots of her other patients in this town do, so I wonder if any of them might put it together and show her this cartoon. Maybe I’ll find out next time I go to have the latest disgusting conglomeration of disease removed. (Blech!!)
Let’s find out now what deadly growths Wayno was drawing cartoons about last week…
I’m proud to say that I kind of know Teller, of Penn and Teller fame. I did a cartoon about them back in the late 90s and he emailed to thank me for mentioning them and said he was a fan. Some years later, I had dinner with him in Las Vegas with my daughters and I’ve been to several of their live shows and said hello after. In fact, he even wrote a blurb for a book of prose that I published back in ‘97, Bizarro Among the Savages.
I’m particularly blessed to be on Teller’s holiday card list because he goes all out and creates one with a different, elaborate, amusing theme each year. Looking forward to his cards is one of my fave end-of-year rituals.
When this cartoon published last Monday, Wayno and I got a personal email thanks from Teller and both he and Penn posted about our cartoon in their social media. Like I said, we’re not really “friends” but I kind of know him, which is probably as cool as it’s going to get for a guy like me.
I’ve asked that question to thousands of dogs and they never have an answer, leaving me feeling like a dope. Now I say this to dogs, “Who’s not sure what I’m talking about right now? You are! You are!”
I’m shocked and disappointed that we didn’t get some complaints about this cartoon passively condoning bestiality. Oh well, maybe next time.
Over on Wayno’s weekly cartoon blog about this same batch, he mentions the difficulties in drawing Bigfoot without showing his feet. It’s a problem with no easy solution. (He also gives more details about the Penn and Teller interaction, which you may enjoy!)
I confess I’m not a believer in the ability of dead people to communicate with living people. I did once see a ghost, however, who was clearly trying to communicate something to me via Charades. Unfortunately, I found it impossible to understand the meaning of any of its bedsheet gesticulations.
In honor of this cartoon, Wayno entitled his blog post this week, “Bizarro: The Comic with Balls”. He also grants permission for anyone to use the expression, “I feel like a bowling ball on a billiard table.” He doesn’t say what it is supposed to mean; he’s waiting for people to use it in conversation to find out.
I suspect Michael Jackson may have been using one of those tools towards the end.
Thus concludes this week’s cartoon crapology, Jazz Pickles. Thanks for putting the lid down after you flush. If you like what we do and that we do it for free—without a paywall or ads—please consider tossing us a crumb via one of the links below. Every little bit helps to keep the moat full of crocodiles at Castillo Bizarro.
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