MoronicArts Classics: Damien Goes Postal

“It’s hotter than a boiled owl!” Bourbonnais cinema clerk, neckbeard and communal narcissist Damien Ulysses Hurlbutt thinks aloud, as he heads down the stairs to get his mail. “Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. I got my postcards off CBay. I bought over 200 from this guy, one at a time. What a great seller! I can’t wait to impress my friends with these! All these favors I do, oh boy, oh boy, they will get a SURPRISE!”

A lady across the way gives Damien the side eye.

Damien logs onto his personal computer, setting atop a wooden folding table. He tries to log onto his alternate Fakebook account, purposely created to stalk his ex-wife Lori and her friends, who divorced him because he abused her.

“Oh man, I cannot get on. What is this about getting reported again for violating the terms of service? I did nothing wrong. I am just a nice guy who has no rights. What about us men?” Damien types into the box in response to Fakebook’s “How did we do?” questionnare.

A few minutes pass. “Ding!”

Damien awakes from a deep sleep, all his loud snoring ceases.

Damien jumps up to log onto his computer.

“Hehhhhhhhh…” Damien sighs.

“We have permanently disabled this account due to multiple third-party complaints. Do not attempt to log in again.

— The Fakebook Team.”

“Now this account is crumped. I know! I will just make a new one! That will show them. Hmpf.”

Damien clears his browser’s history, cookies, cache and then reboots his machine. He reloads Fakebook and tries to create a new account under a diffent name so he can continue to harass his ex-wife, because he clearly has nothing better to do with his time.

“We are sorry, Damien. Maybe you should go out sometime and get a life. Do something productive. Get off the internet. We are closing both your accounts due to impersonation.

— The Fakebook Team”

“Those damnedable Fakebook people! They really put poop in my soup! Both my accounts are clunked over! I wish I could zogg over there and give that clump of people a piece of my mind!”

Damien goes into the bathroom, takes a huge crap, does not wipe and heads straight for the shower. He does not believe in wiping. After he gets out, he runs out the bathroom door, leaving a lake of water on the floor in his wake to get a towel.

As Damien dries himself, he shakes off like a dog, getting water all over the living room carpet. He gets an idea.

Damien dries his hair and then his manhood with the blowdryer.

Damien gets out his box of 200 postcards and sits down, looking a lot like Homer Simpson in his tighty-whities. He scrawls away into the night.

Weeks go by and Damien wonders why he has not heard back. Damien turns on the television, as he has not been able to log onto Fakebook:

“Breaking news: Alabama lawmakers stalked by a mysterious Bourbonnais man. Over 200 postcards containing crude drawings were sent to Alabama politicians opposed to women’s reproductive rights. According to reports, some of the content contained references to so-called ‘MRAs’ or ‘Men’s Rights Activists’, a reactionary group known for their anti-feminist views. Some of the content could not be shown on TV. We will print his address for our viewers’ protection. Back to you.”

Damien gasps, gulping down six antacids to purposely constipate himself because he does not like pooping around people. He craps his pants anyway.

Moron of the Week: Useless Micromanager Admins

Are you spending less time than ever posting on the antisocial media that is Facebook?

So am I. Take this group, a chronic pain “support” group. A fellow spoonie asked what we do to distract our mind from pain. I replied with an article detailing my number one coping skill you know, to help others who also are in a crapton of pain.

As someone who despises pyramid schemes, snake oils and other woo (unlike the fictional Doris Krabalsky), I felt appalled at the moron(s) removing my number coping skill.

I dunno, maybe the micromanaging admins are secretly sadists.

Needless to say, I added that group to my ever-growing chopping block, downsizing my social media presence to reduce stress.

I have stories to write, pictures to draw, songs to sing and a cat to love.

Yes, that “support group” removed my cat video, along with the article describing my process for learning a new language well enough to write a song for my beloved kitty.

That’s okay, my cat did not like those admins either.

For solely pretending to care, I award this micromanaging “support-group” admin Moron of the Week. Writing helps me cope with pain, so I thank you for the story idea. You’re welcome for the award, you earned it.

If social media platforms had dating profiles…

Youtube

Location: San Bruno, California

Politically I am:

The copyright police. Wooo-wooo, don’t go to jail now!

About me:

Due process, what’s that?

I am good at:

Kissing up to the MPAA and RIAA, altering statistics for the heck of it

I am known for:

Knocking down content based off accusations alone; installing annoying commercials with cranked up sound effects and bad, bouncy, boingity music before as many videos as possible. I am not attractive among most of my peers, nor most people on the planet.

Twitter

Location: San Francisco, California

About me:

Tweet tweet!

I am good at:

Saying things very quickly. See, that was fast!

I am known for:

The 45th President of the USA and his tiny hands. He is my best customer!

Facebook

Location: Menlo Park, California

Politically I am:

Extremely conservative

About me:

I will tell you only what I want you to know. Shrouded in mystery, I have no support system and I am not good at answering messages.

I am good at:

Giving you updates on stuff you don’t want and not giving you the updates you want.

I am known for:

Useless changes and telling you the same story over and over again. I do not like nudity. Violence is okay.

Artist’s Corner: Behind the Moroniverse

Sybil sent me here. This is Jen. You might know me, the creator of the Moroniverse? Some people have been asking me why I draw these fools the way I do.

I am starting a new series of blog entries explaining the madness behind my methods.

One reader asked me why some morons are drawn using ragged lines, while other characters are drawn with smooth lines and curves, some even in the same panel.

Pat Splatt, on the left, you see, is a huge sociopath and collapsed narcissist.

Kitty Bortolotti, on the right, is a huge sweetheart, full of compassion and empathy.

Scenes like the one below, make generous use of noir lighting to represent the dark characters:

img_6626

I dunno, would YOU hang around Damien?

Thank you to my readers for submitting their questions, and for continuing to read.

Next time I plan to tell some of my ideas behind the characters.

Be sure to like the We Are CRASS page on Facebook and tell your friends about the good clean fun o’er here at MoronicArts.

https://www.facebook.com/crassllc/