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Forum Update: Post in the new forum: www.PolkOut.com/forum.  It's hosted on my server, and if that starts getting laggy in the future I can just pay for more bandwidth.  Any artistic contribution to the forum would be terrific.  You can still check out the old forum, and older pages will still link to it for now, so... uh... do whatever with that intel.

Quick shit for newcomers: Forum (deviant bullshit), Feedback (fan art, comments, critiques), About (check it out and contribute).  Do you have a website of your own you want me to give a shout out to?  Want to do a crazy guest strip?  You can reach me through that email or on the forums. 

Upcoming Fan Art Showcase: Whenever I get a substantial amount of fan art (we've got a few submissions on the forum) I'll dedicate a whole update to fan submissions.  Go nuts, lets see some creativity and experimentation with style.  Guest comic guidelines are in the forum.

Here's a fun comic to check out:

And I've linked to this one before, it's forum user Chowder's site, but he's done some work to it, so here's a new link:

You can't say I don't care about my audience.  Look, I've fulfilled your perverse fucking desire for miranda cosgrove fuck comics.  May as well make that search result accurate, right?

Speaking of our dear Miranda, one thing that bothered me about the Drake and Josh movie is just how purely malicious her character, Megan Parker, was.  Her character had no perceivable reason to be as mean spirited as she was, at least not within the context that the sitcom has created over its many seasons.  This inspired me to write the following piece of Drake and Josh fan fiction; it takes place immediately before the first episode, and though it's not canon, I think it fills a few of the gaps that the writers never bothered to address.

Megan’s Pain: A Drake and Josh Story

“YOU FILTHY FUCKING SLUT!” the empty whiskey bottle shattered across the kitchen’s tiled floor, “I’LL KILL YOU!”

“You’re drunk, Richard!” Audrey cried, stumbling backward toward the corner, her arms a flimsy cage guarding her from her husband’s explosive temper.

“I know what you’ve been doing,” he whispered, his large, muscular hand sliding slowly up her throat and toward her jaw, “I’m not a fuckin’ idiot.”

Tears poured down her face, “Nothing happened, Richard!  Nothing!”

His eyes were bloodshot and furious, staring at her then in those few frozen moments.  His jaw clenched and his hand followed, squeezing his wife’s moist, red face and throwing it to the ground, to the hard tile and the broken glass.

“DAD!” his screaming pierced through the writhing silence that had only yet been challenged by soft sobbing as he lunged to stop his father from harming his mother any further.

But his hand could not reach Richard, not before his face was battered to the ground by a single, powerful swipe of the old man’s palm, “NOT NOW, DRAKE!”

Drake, collapsed on the floor, felt the blood that leaked through his nose and his lips, “…dad…” he whispered in astonishment and disgust.

“This ain’t your business, boy, you stay out, you hear? “  His breathing grew heavier as he stared at his only son, at what his rage had brought him to.  But shame, rationality, all of those elements of the most intimate sort of humanity were strangers to him now, flung far from his mind by jealousy and drink. 

“…leave,” she sobbed, “leave him alone…”  Audrey clutched her bleeding face, now speckled with shards of brown glass slowly sinking into tiny mounds of dampened flesh. 

“Get up,” he turned to her,  “GET THE FUCK UP.”  He grabbed her by her hair and pulled her to her feet as she shrieked, “You think I like this?!” he snarled , “You think I like seeing my wife running around behind my fucking back with some fat faggot weather man?!”

He waited for an answer but fear had paralyzed her.

“What… what did you think would happen?” he clutched her face, contemplating his next brutal act.

“You’re a fucking pig!” Drake slowly scrambled to his feet, wiping the blood from his face, “L-leave her… leave her alone…”

“Or what, big man?” Richard loosened his grip, letting his wife drop to the floor like rag doll, “What are you gonna do?” 

Drake’s fists tightened, the flames of his rage fed by his father’s vicious teasing, that profane smile that burned like cigar embers digging their way into bare skin. 

His father’s footsteps, slow and heavy, shook the house as he walked over to his son, his eyes peering down at Drake’s shaking, frail form.  “What?”

Drake’s bottom lip trembled, his gaze locked with his father’s; a stare so malicious it flooded his body with fear, with desperation.

“I thought so.” He smiled, striking the side of Drake’s face like a brutal thunderclap, mashing flesh to bone to floor, knocking the boy back to the ground and onto the liminal threshold of consciousness by the brunt force of his knuckles.

“…please, it’s an emergency…” Audrey whispered into her cellular phone, desperately trying to overcome the painful choking of her own sobbing.

“What the FUCK—“ Richard exploded, bursting back towards his wife.

“I-I…” she sobbed.

“YOU WHAT?!” he screamed, “WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

“…th-the… police…”

Richard’s eyes drifted towards the ceiling as he sank into the gravity of the situation.  He looked about him, at the broken furniture, the bloody stains and the shattered people.  He contemplated his life, now ruined by his own hand, by his wrath at a wife who could not help but meander under the vacuum force of his own absence, at a son who’d grown to hate him for what his pain had brought him to.  It was over.  Soon the police would swarm and take him away.  There was no forgiveness, no redemption.  He sauntered to the living room, resting his head against the stairway banister.

Suddenly, like a subtle breeze, the kind too soft to tear petals from their stems but strong enough to carry fallen ones across tattered fields and sullen meadows, a fledgling soul cried out to him.  Megan, his only daughter, had hidden herself in a darkened corner, rocking back and forth, burnt by the overwhelming flames that devoured her father.   Shallow breaths quickly made their way in and out of her tiny lungs, her eyes entirely unfocused by emotions too wild to be contained or understood.  So she shut down.  Richard looked at her with sympathetic eyes, knowing all too well the stranger that was feeling.  As their eyes locked he muttered, “You’re just like me, you know.” 

And so they stared at one another, as the police beat down the door and dragged him to some forgotten corner of memory.  It would be years before she’d realize that what he’d done to her then was more damaging than any blow, for the wound that he had wrought would fester on long after her mother’s and her brother’s would heal.

“Walter…” Audrey whispered into the phone, “…I need you.”

That took me all of half an hour to write.  You can guys can give me feedback and I could compose a revised draft, maybe add some more violence or whatever, but I think that pretty much did the job.

So on Christmas Day, having nothing better to do, I joined a buddy of mine on a traditional excursion to the movies to see whatever film seemed the least craptacular.  We ended up settling on The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.  The film was written by Eric Roth, the same guy who wrote Forrest Gump.  To say the two films are similar is like saying my shit smells kind of like my farts.  Button may as well have been an earlier, significantly shittier, draft of Gump.

Spoilers Ahead:

Here's the plot in a nutshell:
A Southern man born with an unusual physical condition befriends a young girl in his childhood, however circumstances drive them apart and they go their separate ways; the man to war, the woman on a journey of personal and sexual exploration (living among a group of people who compose an extremely liberal, fairly hedonistic, American subculture).  Upon returning from war, he tries to lure her back to their more conservative home, but she refuses.  They eventually reunite for some limited amount of time and he impregnates her, however they then separate again and the man goes on some cathartic journey while the woman raises their child.  When they reunite, one of them is deep into the downward spiral towards death, so the other takes care of them until, well, the inevitable.

IT'S FORREST FUCKING GUMP.  It's the same bullshit; Button even has a boner for boats and spends a shitload of time jerking off on them.  The only difference is that every character in this goddamn movie is completely two dimensional and serves no greater purpose than to waste my goddamn time.  When Gump goes to war he meets two men who greatly alter the course of his life.  Button has his own little Lieutenant Dan analogue, but he serves absolutely no purpose in the plot other than to establish some shallow fucking visual metaphor that seems completely tacked on (IT'S INFINITY!).  Characters die in Button and the narration describes how profoundly hurt our protagonist is, but we hardly see them interacting, we don't feel an emotional connection so those moments that were meant to be blatant tear-jerkers are just patronizing.  One of the most important people in the story dies off screen... OFF SCREEN.  Way to shit on that opportunity, Roth.

That's the whole movie though, nothing matters.  Button ages in reverse... and that's it.  His character isn't interesting; sure he makes some profound philosophical comments about life and whatnot, but he's shallow.  Forrest Gump was an idiot, that's his special gimmick, and it worked.  It aided the narrative because he successfully channeled the emotions he was experiencing in a very primitive, relatable way.  Moreover, his defect was relevant to his personality; Button could have suffered from any fucking disease on the planet that could potentially be socially ostracizing--like leprosy or Chlamydia--and it would've been the same fucking story.  The romance is totally fucking artificial too; Gump loved Jenny from practically day one, Button kind of liked his love interest but then just stopped caring and did his own thing.  Gump saw and interacted with Jenny every damn day of his childhood.  Button saw this chick once or twice a month or something--this point is actually pretty ambiguous; we see two of their adventures and that's about it. 

And it just goes on!  Three hours of this bullshit; of boring characters doing pointless things.  It almost feels like the whole backwards aging thing and some of the other more out there elements (the pygmy, the previously referenced hummingbird metaphor) were Roth's attempt at doing a Big Fish sort of whimsical story, only his complete lack of imagination makes it all amount to shit.  Characters are built up and referenced constantly--an estranged father and his BUTTON factory, that fucking pygmy, a sister who never speaks--and then just dropped.  It felt like I saw some stripped down cut of a much more ambitious film--though it would've still probably been shit since the characters are so two-dimensional.

Here's my review in one word: diarrhea.  Roth popped open his file cabinet, pulled out his Forrest Gump screenplay and just smeared it in diarrhea. 

At least Cate Blanchett is fun to look at.  Kind of hot in a really angular way... like you could bang her and grate cheese on her face... make some ziti or something.  I guess I have a thing for women who can double as cookware.  

Suffice to say, movie critics are evidently dumb as fuck.  Discretion is dead... though I guess we've known that for a while.

--End Transmission--

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