Sorry everyone... University and fucking around on the computer have been eating up my time. I'll get some caricatures drawn up... SOON...

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I'd advise against fucking around _on_ the computer, as this could lead to back problems. At the very least, I'd move to the desk, if not a nice comfy bed.

Gabe

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100 pounds of shit in a 25 pound sack.

Is "scrabble" a codeword for "agressive homosexual lovemaking"?
Oh yeah, I have a 17" monitor that I always run at 1024x768. I'd run it higher, but my computer is a piece of crap.

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Do you want ants? Because that's how you get ants.

I have made progress! I did Jael and DragonXero yesterday... uh, I mean, I drew their caricatures. *blush*

Once I have everyone done and OK'ed, I will submit them all to Johnny in one big bundle.

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quote:

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Is "scrabble" a codeword for "agressive homosexual lovemaking"?

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quote:

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I have made progress! I did Jael and DragonXero yesterday... uh, I mean, I drew their caricatures. *blush*

Once I have everyone done and OK'ed, I will submit them all to Johnny in one big bundle.

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Damn, and I wanted to have my caricature done too. Unfortunately, I was kidnapped by a band of gypsies in my youth who taught me that having your picture taken steals your soul. So the last photograph I have for myself is during the Carter administration.

Well, as the outcast non-cartooned comic writer, I will surely take advantage of your likenesses and have you all sodomized in a strip I'll call "Elephants and Innertube Anuses."

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I ate a hooker half a bottle of knife.

You're not the only one without a picture, you know.

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"Oh, look, a joke! How original! Thank you, but if I wanted my emotions stimulated pleasurably, I'd get a whore." - Donald B. Jones III

For me to think that I was the only one the gypsies got to would be mighty arrogant indeed.

I doubt this reply will post though. Once this string hit 3 pages, the forum went a little crazy. Good to know that this, the longest string on the comic strip creator forum yet, was a celebration of the fact that gabe is a colossal geek.

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I ate a hooker half a bottle of knife.

If you want a piccy done, just email a photo to me.

[email]dexx@ihug.com.au[/email]

Oh, and my ICQ number is in my sig.

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This signature has performed an illegal operation and has been shut down.

That's because I have yet to start the 'Why ObiJo is a Giant Choadsmoking CockMonkey' thread. It'll shoot up the charts faster than blow up Robert Downey Jr's nose.

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100 pounds of shit in a 25 pound sack.

Throw a couple of bar graphs in it and how could it not. *snicker*

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I ate a hooker half a bottle of knife.

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Throw a couple of bar graphs in it and how could it not. *snicker*

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Everyone loves bar graphs.

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Line graphs, line graphs, line graphs! You can use a Least Squares fit method to turn a scatter plot into a line graph and get me all hot and bothered. Stud.

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I ate a hooker half a bottle of knife.

I like those graphs filled with pepperoni and provolone cheese...

Wait a minute - I'm thinking of stromboli, not graphs. Never mind...

Me hungry.

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"And Wirthling isn't worth the paper he isn't printed on."

Ok, wirthling. That's it. I come in late to these forums everynight so I can have full run of them. Not only are you here during MY time, but you're posting funny shit.

There's only room for one of us during the Night Owl Shift. So one of us has to go. Now don't...what? What do you mean I should go?! Why, you rotten bastard! Ok, I guess you DID call it first. Shucks. Bye.

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I ate a hooker half a bottle of knife.

ObiJo, we have to stop meeting like this, in the middle of the night. My wife is beginning to get suspicious.

Tonight she asked me why I had a poster of Ed Asner on the ceiling. I told her it was a political thing, but I don't think she believed me. I'm afraid the jig is up. But we'll always have Comic Contest 7...

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"And Wirthling isn't worth the paper he isn't printed on."

I knew it. A love tryst between my two arch nemeses. All the easier to blow you both up if you're in the same bed.

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100 pounds of shit in a 25 pound sack.

Blow you both up.

UP.

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100 pounds of shit in a 25 pound sack.

quote:

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ObiJo, we have to stop meeting like this, in the middle of the night. My wife is beginning to get suspicious.

Tonight she asked me why I had a poster of Ed Asner on the ceiling. I told her it was a political thing, but I don't think she believed me. I'm afraid the jig is up. But we'll always have Comic Contest 7...

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Oh, you big hunk of man! Butt pirates, ahoy! All aboard the good ship ObiJo!

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100 pounds of shit in a 25 pound sack.

egads...isn't it always my luck..they're either married or gay! ;)

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Women are fisher's of men because we all know.... The small ones you throw back. The medium ones you eat. The large ones you mount.

Well, I'm definitely not married...

Ok, damnit, I'm not gay either. I'm so unoriginal: white heterosexual male. Woo-frickin'-Hoo. If only I had something that made me stand out. Something I could point to and say, "Yes, that's why I'm me. That's why I'm special." Maybe I already have it, but just don't realize it. Wow, what an idea! I'll have to give that more thought tomorrow as I get my third nipple removed.

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I ate a hooker half a bottle of knife.

An extract from the erotic novel "Sexual Statistics" by Gabriel Billings.

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Yvette trembled with desire as she grasped the carefully-sharpened 2H pencil in her slender fingers. "Daryl," she sighed, "I've plotted the rough scatter points... but..." She hesitated and blushed. Daryl moved toward her, and gently placed his hand over hers, both of them touching the straight, hard pencil.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "If you want to draw your line of best fit..." Yvette's body tensed as he said those words that aroused her so much. Daryl smiled slightly, knowing the effect that graphing the collated statistical data was having on her.

"Yes," Yvette whispered. "Draw it..." She paused and swallowed, her throat seeming very dry. "Draw my... my line of best fit. Draw it now, Daryl. Draw it now!" Daryl took the pencil from her hand, placed the tip at the origin of the two perpendicular axes, and waited. Yvette gazed into his eyes, and he could see the barely-constrained need on her face. Finally, he gave in to their mutual need - the pencil moved slowly, and the quiet sound of the graphite tip running along the paper was drowned out by their simultaneous shuddering sighs...

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Pretty torrid stuff, hey?

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