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PolkOut.com is a walking sack of sick! Just coughed up another fist-sized lump of phlegm...
Forum Update: The forum looks awesome now! Big thanks to my friend Alex! 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. Archive Alternative: PolkOut Redux, updated Monday through Friday with old strips in the same chronological order as in which they appeared on this site. It's on DrunkDuck so you can rate the comics and comment directly underneath them:
I think every artist--not to imply some debauched pervert like myself is an artist, but bear with me here--reaches a point when they realize they are completely incapable of fulfilling a vision that could ever compare to the greatness to which they aspire. It's that moment of truth when they look up to the sky, realize just how high up those clouds really are, and call it quits. No, I'm not quitting, but this week... this week I've come closer to that realization than ever before. It's not because of the dismally low popularity of this site, even after all these years of weekly updates and witty rant banter, it's not because of the alienation I've earned myself ("He has a website... He's a forum admin... He draws cartoons..." - Global Female Conspiracy, drafting a treatise on why my cock ought never be touched), no, it's because I've found someone who does what I do but outclasses me in every respect. I'm almost a bit reluctant to expose you guys to this webcomic... I fear once you've gazed upon its splendor, the few followers I actually have will swiftly abandon me. But I can't rely on ignorance as a foundation of admiration, no, it's dishonest, fickle, fragile... So here, I present you now with the greatest weekly webcomic to ever hit the internet.
I've been sick as fuck for the last two weeks, coughing up some pretty vile shit. At one point, after blowing my nose into a fistful of toilet paper (my tissue/paper towel/bulge enlargement solution), I looked down to find something that resembled the contents of Gloop's tube sock after a furious session of cock pounding. Woah, was that too obscure a reference? You guys know the Herculoids, right?
Just another brick in the foundation of a socially stunting childhood. The healing process has involved liter after liter of grapefruit juice, milk, fistfuls of vitamins and antibiotics, and Jason Statham movies. Just like Dragonball: Evolution, Crank 2 doesn't come out here in the Czech Republic until July, so I missed my shot to see that masterpiece in theaters. The first was glorious, the product of an inspired artistic vision. Transporter was a solid meh up until the glorious end. Qi Shu just lamed up the screen every chance she got and I got the sincere impression that the guys behind the camera didn't know whether they wanted to make a serious semi-dramatic action/thriller or a badass, testosterone-fueled boner-fest. I think I'm one of the few people who thinks Transporter 2 was better than the original simply because it knew wanted it wanted to do and did it... I haven't seen the third one yet, but soon! Maybe right after this update... A big pet peeve I have with a lot of movies, the first Transporter included, is when lazy writers think saving a woman's life is instant sex guarantee. Granted, it ought to be, just like taking a lady out to dinner or... not pummeling her to the ground with a barrage of much-deserved backhands... but it never happens. Why? I don't know... ovaries are big ingratitude nodes, pumping that shit up to their brains like diarrhea to a septic tank. Heavy Metal is a serious offender, making that movie totally unwatchable for me... (along with the gratuitous cartoon fucking and atrocious audio). Not many photos this week, well not any, save for that one up there. Like I said, I went on a trip to a small Czech town last week to meet, and hang out with, students from a prestigious high school in the area. Not really a ha-ha-I'm-a-douchebag-tourist kind of time. Though it was pretty neat, lack of stupid bullshit notwithstanding... One of the first things we had to do was sit around with these Czech students and have conversations with them as a form of both ice breaker and cultural... knowledge... gathering... exercise... thing. I spoke with this one girl and... it was pretty awkward. More so than when I normally talk to women (like that were possible). Frequent pauses to uncomfortably scan around the room, the ceiling, our laps, half assed attempts at jumpstarting discussion, one that led to the following beauty of an exchange:
"So... uh... do you have any siblings?" I asked a bunch of them if they played any videogames, all but one told me they were juvenile wastes of time. After the meeting we watched this play about tolerance that a bunch of the students preformed, which was, despite what we've come to expect from plays about tolerance, totally fucking awesome. After lunch we went our separate ways with our host students. So these two brothers and I, driven by their mother, went up to this neighboring little village to have dinner and dick around for a while. Their father showed me his workshop in the back, where he and his nine employees cut metal parts for engines and swivel chairs and stuff like that. Afterwards we hiked uphill to the village community center, an old building recently bought and renovated by a former student from that same high school. It contained a free fitness center, movie theater, and non-profit pub (cheap cheap cheap beer). That photo up there is of the pub, in the corner of which is a small children's play area so you can take your kids when you go boozin'. I learned the greatest menstruation euphemism from these guys that I've ever heard: strawberry holiday.
I'd asked where one of the brothers had gone, and the older one
replied, "He's taking his girlfriend out to dinner for the first
time." I think the origin of the phrase comes from Commie times; there was a period when Czechoslovakia's only pad factory (or one of the few, and no, no one used tampons) burned down. To deal with the ensuing shortage, the government issued all women four days off per month to stay home and deal with it. Anyway, that night we all met up again at this pub in town, where alcohol eased a lot of the awkwardness.
"So... what kind of music... do you like?" one student asked me. Another student informed me, "It's practically legal here!" as he whipped out a bag of some stuff he'd grown himself. Those elite high school students can sure be trouble sometimes. It was a pretty good time all around, though Czech culture can be kind of weird sometimes. In a lot of ways, traditional Russian gatherings are very similar to Italian ones, or Greek even; people come together, drink a lot, eat a lot, and have long, often elaborate, meals while dicking around endlessly. Czech culture is pub-centric, so all the dicking around normally goes on there and meals tend to be pretty short. For some reason, it's normal for everyone in the family to eat before their guest, or simply away from their guest, so it was just me and that one brother eating dinner and breakfast together. Yeah, I don't get it but whatever. Oh well, time to get started on some final papers. Keep on spreadin' the good word, readers.
--End Transmission-- PolkOut Sells Out The following are ads I've put up on the site to help pay for my advertising budget so I can make this site more popular. I did not choose these ads, and have decided not to filter their content. So if they lead you to tiny toon tits, well, all the better.
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