Web Comics! YOU CAN HELP!

So I am going am starting a web comic!  Lately, I have been steeping in many excellent online comics and thinking about my roots.  Painting and graphic design is all fine and dandy but I really cut my drawing teeth on drawing comics. During my Dad’s weekly Sunday nap when I was bored out of my face and too afraid of bugs/cold/nature/life to go outside, I would hang out in my room with a $3 writing tablet and draw comics. I had different sets of characters – one was a family of big nosed creatures who’s adventures were tame and familial until my pre-teens when they all got thin (they had been comically round across the board)  and wanted to date, wear make up and go shopping. Go figure.  But Archie comics, Calvin and Hobbes, Sailor Moon, For Better or Worse, Lynda Barry and whatever else I could take out of the Saskatoon Public Library (even with their limited & sad selection, I RARELY borrowed Cathy comics. She was too one-dimensional for even a 9 year old version of me) informed my weekends and off-hours.

ANYWAY enough history. All these comic artists who are making fun and funny work online is inspiring me to return to my roots and make a comic. I have the idea and everything, PLUS it requires some assistance from the rest of the world.

The Name: TBA

The Idea: friends, strangers, readers can send in their tales of drug-doing (or wild drinking – booze is a drug too), and I will make a comic out of the story. I haven’t had a very wild life and I get a big kick out of hearing great drug-doing stories. They are the modern day adventure tale and I want to draw about them.

The request: Email me your drug doing stories!  I don’t care if they have happy, sad, or squalid endings, but if you have a great story (or 2 or 3 or 4) that gets told a lot in a bar, you could send it in. If you don’t want your name used, pick a new name. Same for other members of the story. If I don’t know you , a description or picture of you could help. Or I make it up. Whatever.  gilliangoerz(at)gmail(dot)com

The disclaimer: this is in IDEA form right now so I make zero promises about what the outcome will look like; I don’t promise to be faithful to the wording of whatever is sent in; I may create two of them and then HATE doing it and quit; I may love it and make these for the next 10 years.  Bottom line is: I promise nothing. Sounds good, don’t it?  Ya-huh!

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One response to “Web Comics! YOU CAN HELP!

  1. King of trouble

    I won’t say if it is true or not. I will just give you a story. In my youth not too damn long ago but a while back I was homeless. Yeah, that’s right homeless with a damn college degree that the ink hadn’t dried yet. (Silly worthless piece of paper)
    I am sometimes known as the King of Trouble for no matter how hard I run from it trouble always finds me. I had just lost a contract with an ESL school because they had been bought out by Berlitz. So I would not be hopping on the next plane and seeing Japan any time soon. However I was stuck in California a long ass way from Chicago. These were the nights of debauchery, fun, and all out general strangeness. For it is true, all kinds of nuts and fruits inhabit Los Angelos and they had just got me.

    I did many things like, dancing on the street, juggling fire, going to shelters and meeting the strangest people. Yet, those are other stories, this one is story however is called High Class Nose Dive.

    I had just got a job baby sitting a musician. I talent person with a little Alcohol and Drug problem. My job was to be his nanny. However he was expected to go to parties. What is a Musician without his parties. The Hotel we went into was the most expensive thing I had ever laid out. I am strictly a Southside Chicago boy. Middle lower class and I eat my polish sausages and root for Da Bears, Cubs, and general Chicagoian life style.

    I was not in my element. I had fallen down the rabbit hole into something that was truely unbelieveable. Although this was California and there have been many movies about drugs this hotel room put them all to shame. I felt that Scarface wasn’t a big deal because it couldn’t possible have had all the different types of Drugs. My Southside instincts said to run but I needed the money. I hadn’t fallen so bad yet that I could stay in a $11 dollar a night youth hostel. However I was getting there and this money was the answer to being able to stay a little while longer.

    Still, with the amount of drugs in that room I could readily see the prison time adding up. The shear amount of Drugs were staggering one wonder how they could have gotten it all in. No doctor would have run out of needles, you could ski in the amount of white powdering stuff. You could have made a couch out of the pot in the bedroom. Of course Alcohol was present but could she really compete with the rest of hooligans in the room.

    I kept my eye on the musician but not really his girl. She wasn’t exactly my problem unless she was encouraging drug use. She was a nice looking girl with a tatoo of a lizard around her ankle. Where she originally hailed from I don’t know. Somewhere through the night this trip lost me. I couldn’t keep up with the musician there were places he could go I just didn’t have the pull to get in.

    So I found myself with the pot heads. I skated back then and many of them also did so. We talked about good skate areas, art, and things that pot heads talk about when they get high. You could have cut the smoke in the room with a chainsaw. It was during this time I heard the screams. Someone had overdose and people were now scared. Like cockroaches caught when the light switched on these people began to scatter.

    I went looking for the musician. I saw him he looked fine but he was looking for his girlfriend. I spotted her limp body outside the open door people stepping over her when someone cried cops. Now the big race had begun. Now it was everyman for himself. Alot of the people in the hotel room where very rich. However the potheads and I decided we didn’t want to stay in a hotel room that was going to be raided.

    So we had the bright idea that we could tie the bedding together and slided down. Now we were somewhere on the 20th something floor. You will remember that much pot was inhumed. So the only question was who was first and who was last. I volunteered for last because I thought I should try to get the musician but he had already escaped with his girl. At the time I didn’t know that but I wasn’t looking any more. The first girl flung down maybe she was into rock climbing or repelling or she was just damn lucky but she made it.

    It was easier now for people to come down. They were after all latched to a fixed object now. Seven of us and only one hestitated I told him if he didn’t move I would just push him off. He slowly but surely slide down as for me I was last so untied the bedding and towels from the support. I closed the balcony glass door and I took a look over the edge. It was a far drop down and if anything went wrong I would be dead not just in Jail. I the King of Trouble couldn’t count the many times times that something like this had gone wrong for me. Well not like this but close. I closed my eyes and jumped…

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