Tue- 1:15 AM to 1:30 AM

Writer’s block is an ugly thing.  It’s like vomiting in the front yard after holding it in while your friends drive you home blasting Primus.  But luckily for me instead of getting writer’s block I get what’s known in some circles as “civil war syndrome.” Let me explain.  I was never in the civil war.  I mean I hail from the 1100’s, so obviously I would have been dead by then.  What I’m talking about is the tendency to resent my parents for raising me in the church, and drawing inspiration directly from that resentment and feeling of being brainwashed.  Creative juices dry up, however, when I get around an ex who brings this religious literature by the cottage (I live in a cottage.  Did I mention that?) and I just get so turned on by that sexy black Jesus on the cover.  Fudges my whole creative process up, is what it does.  Hell the only way I can get it going again is by fucking that dude while he reads aloud the passages about sanctity of marriage.

Speaking of that, he’s getting married next week in South Carolina!  I didn’t think they’d ever allow gay marriage, I mean for God’s sake they were the last ones to adopt Martin Luther King Jr. Day.  Or maybe he said South Korea.  I tell you he is one gorgeous Korean mother.

And I promise I’ll update the about page of the Gold and Blue and Gray page (the “home” site of this blog, by the way for newcomers, is http://www.applecorecomics.com) but I have been working on Twitter and on getting those blasted UPexx tapes to work so I can show you.  And also, of course, working on the about page.

Mon- 12:11 AM to 12:21 AM

Whew. What a weekend.  Got mentioned on a fantastic site- “SpartanburgSpark.com,” local to where I happen to roost most days.  Then I lied about updating the about page,  then spent a long while making a background for a Twitter site to which I’ve linked on the right ( you should go to Twitter right now and follow me and I’ll follow you back).  Lots to talk to about.  Lots and lots to mention.  Though, not nearly as many people with whom to share the information.

Why don’t you guys like me?  Was it something I said?  Did I say something?  Was there something that was spoken out of turn?  I just, I just want you to know I didn’t mean it.  Would you just look at me?  Hey.  HEY!  Do you think I enjoy this??  Do you?  Do you like watching me making a scene like this?  What’s wrong with you?  Why are you doing this?  Why won’t you just accept the truth and let me love you?  Do you want to see me beg?  Do you?  Is this uncomfortable for you?  Huh?  I’m sorry.  No, no, it is my fault.  I shouldn’t have blamed you.  I’m sorry I can’t be what you need me to be.

Here’s my Twitter background I spent all weekend making (I was sick, but was nursed back to health by my current fuck buddy, you may have heard of him: THE PRESIDENT)

Fri- 2:10 PM to 2:11 PM

The 12 panels are up.  In case there’s confusion, the new panels start on PAGE 2. The Latest comic button links right to it, so if you want to go back to any of the previous panels, just go to Archive. Adding the About page tonight.

Fri- 12:01 AM to 12:32 AM

Today at work I cut my finger open.  I won’t tell you where I work, I’m under contractual obligation.  But I didn’t notice until I couldn’t pull my fingers apart.  They were fused with dried, tacky blood.  Then I looked down and saw the bloody hand print on the metal bin of my workstation.  At this point I was in a panic, because I have a crippling fear of band aids.  If the supervisor became witness to my blood trails then surely I would be condemned to don one of those foul, off-pink, sticky strips from Hell.  5 minutes.  That’s all the time I had to do something before the supervisor came by for her hourly check-up.  So I went to work.

I placed my middle finger, currently void of blood, between the open metal door and the edge of the bin.  After pinching most of the skin off the tip, I had enough red liquid for another hand print.  Not enough.  So my ring finger was next, and then of course the pinkie and thumb.  I was getting light-headed and couldn’t see the clock.  I tried to take my pocket watch out but it kept slipping between my plasma-wrought hands.  Deciding to say “Fuck it,” I continued smearing the bins with more and more vital fluid (I used a thesaurus to get all these different blood words). After twenty minutes I started to wonder if the supervisor was even coming.  But I don’t quit when I set my mind to something.  After another twenty minutes I began to stumble with exhaustion at what I can only imagine was a serious lack of hemoglobin.  So I leaned against the wall behind me just as the supervisor popped her head around the corner.

She asked if everything was good here. I said Oh yeah, I think.  Luckily my hands were behind me against the wall.  She glanced at my bin and gasped.  “Oh,” she said, “that’s a beautiful painting of a red flower.  Is it a Georgia O’Keeffe?”

“Uh, Yes,” I said, “I painted it to…represent woman’s struggle in the workplace.” She applauded my sympathy with her sex’s struggles and gave me a raise.  Of course now, ironically, I make more than the women I work with.

Tomorrow: an entire 12 panels of the prologue and something will actually be in the About section of the Gold and Blue and Gray page.

Thurs- 3:13 AM to 3:39 AM

Now, if some of you aren’t really “chess players,” then this story may not much interest you.  But I was playing a couple of games of “Thinkin’ and Drinkin’,” which is simply shot chess, with Monteclaire.  The rules are: after 4 pawns are taken, that’s a shot.  Any 2 of the rooks, knights, or bishops, that’s a shot.  And 1 queen is a shot.  Oh, and when you lose, that’s one more shot.  So in any given game, up to 7 shots are possible.  First game, both sober, I began mopping the floor with this guy.  I was making smart moves left and right.  I set up this fantastic defense, and nearly every move he would contemplate to take one of my pieces out would be impossible without consequence.  If you’ve seen the end of “Reservoir Dogs,” then you know how most of the games between Monteclaire and I usually go.  He threatens a piece of mine, and instead of retreating or blocking his move, I threaten a separate piece of his.  And he responds in turn by threatening yet another of mine.  So we end with this large group of pieces nervously holding a gun in each hand at the piece to their left or right, all of us just waiting for someone to pull the trigger.  I won that game, by the way.  Hilarious too, because Isabald isn’t a big drinker, but after I took out a rook, then his queen, and then with him conceding, the game ended with him downing 3 shots in a row.

The best part though is the next game.  He was killing me.  Every move I made was stupid, and by a certain point I didn’t care anymore and had many missing pieces.  Near the end of the night, my rook was just about all I had left, and it happened to be positioned to where I could kill a pawn of his near his back row without consequence.  So I did.  It was only then I realized that one more move back, and he was checkmated.  I had to wait though, and play it smooth, because if he noticed, he could move his king one space to my right and it would basically be hopeless for me.  Luckily, at this point, he was quite drunk, and I moved my knight to a position for him to kill it with a pawn (getting my king out of check in the process).  Again, sorry if you’re really not interested in chess, but when I nudged that sucker into that space and the look of realization slowly crept onto his face, well it was just glorious.  A glorious moment for Gloria.  At the end of the game we have this little tradition where we flip the board over, the pieces scatter on the ground, and we curse loudly at each other in a faux German language while carving pentagrams into our chests with the King piece’s sharp cross.

Wed- 12:40 PM to 12:44 PM

I’m getting many, many warnings from my computer that it is infected with Trojan Horses of all shapes, sizes, and colors.  Also, certain websites such as Hulu and Youtube are now “restricted” because of my “security settings.”  Then, five minutes ago my virus protection stuff popped up with two more warnings, and right before my eyes another Trojan Horse was added to the list.  So I’m cutting my connection to the internet and lugging this contraption over to Monteclaire’s house.  Point being I won’t be updating until this bullshit is fixed.  Hopefully soon.

Wed- 12:01 AM to 12:07 PM

The preview page is updated.  There’s a preview up of the chapter page for Gold and Blue and Gray, Chapter 1: The Incantation of Mayonezu Kuchibiru. As well as, wait for it…….The whole fucking first page of the chapter. Go to the Gold and Blue and Gray page from the main site (click on the HOME button in the menu on the right) and click the preview button on the hymn.

So despite my earlier claims of fear of running out of finished pages, I’ve updated a whole page (albeit a preview of an upcoming chapter) and claim that I’m going to post another entire page this Friday. That one will still be the prologue.  I guess it won’t hurt to post the Chapter 1 page here.

Tues- 3:19 PM to 3:32

Okay, the truth:  I’m not Gloria Farmer.  This is hard for me to admit, okay?  I just…I wanted to assume a new identity for this blog.  I’m more comfortable not being me, you see?  So…I killed Gloria Farmer.  That’s right.  I was Gloria’s former lover, Flint Chesthair.  Gloria and I used to paint the town red together, back in the old days.  It was 3 years ago that he betrayed me.  He had always been a fan of my stories.  Who wouldn’t be?  With characters like the ones you’ve been reading about, who wouldn’t be hooked?  After a night of passionate love-making, I fell asleep and he stole the comic from me.  I’ve been searching for him ever since.  I had to do it.  But don’t worry, I’ve already legally changed my name to Gloria Farmer, and to tell you the truth, I’ve just been acting like myself the whole time anyway.  See the real Gwayloria Farmer wasn’t like me at all.  He was kind of boring.  Always carving wood on his porch.  And, I mean the comic was mine from the start anyway, so this really doesn’t change anything.  Nevermind.

I updated the comic.  A whole 12 panels Friday.

Mon- 2:30 PM to 2:39 PM

I’ve decided to go crazy and post an entire page this Friday (I was going to post it tomorrow, but honestly I do have a little bit of this comic done, but I fear getting to the point of having a deadline to draw several panels).  BTW a “page” is exactly 12 panels.  I’m arranging them differently on the site for convenience’s sake.  I’m really excited to draw this comic though.  Some people criticize this surreal, random, stream-of-consciousness way of writing, usually incorporating symbolism in place of strong characterization and whatnot, but I’d argue that symbolism and all that other stuff have just as many merits;  or, if not as many, at least very strong merits.  How much more interesting and surprising when you really don’t know what’s going to happen next?  I’m typing random thoughts because I’ve been drinking, but anyways my original point stands.  I’ll post more when I’m drinking because while I’m drinking I enjoy the result.  Cheers.

Mon- 1:53 PM to 2:04 PM

Isabald turned me on to this Twitter and Facebook stuff.  Now whenever I visit this chap I kind of have to check reality at the door.  See his house is on the luxurious side.  Literally, I mean there’s an alternate realm one might encounter if they, say, surround themselves with luxuriousness so immense it literally transports them to another plane of reality that some call “The Luxurious Side.”  A plane where expensive-looking molding exists on every convergence of every wall and holes with shelves exist in the walls with hand-carved busts of Greek philosophers.  It’s like approaching the black monolith at the end of “2001 A Space Odyssey.” Or basically any scene from “Barry Lyndon” (Kubrick fan). What I mean is, while looking into the pearl screen of his diamond-encrusted Apple computer monitor, I realized there was a whole social-gathering world online of which I was unawares.  So long story short I have a Twitter account, which I’ve yet to use or even peruse, and I plan on a Facebook.  Whatever I can do to get any kind of readership, because my ultimate goal and the whole purpose of this is I want to eventually be published and make comic books for a living.