Run, don’t walk (no wait: jog!) to your local newsstand, and pay the scrappy kid in the newsboy cap a shiny ha’penny to pick up the latest issue of Mad magazine, which has one of my cartoons right in the front section! Take a peek! (I have pixelated most of the punchline so that you have still have a reason to rush out and buy the magazine!
Three-pee-em. Ooze out of bed. Wake-up bonus: more hot water comes out of my showerhead today than has in two years.
Dress. Today my Vertigo T-shirt, a Christmas present from Mad magazine, will be my chest’s message to the world. Purchase a cylinder of coffee from 7-11 and I’m off to the races.
(First watch a viral video of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles that I’ve already seen a dozen times and I’m off to the races.)
I am a cartoonist.
I have no excuse for this lethargy. I am usually dull eyed and slack tailed by twelve noon, tops. I have just raised a bushel of dollars for my next project through Kickbubble. I should be over the moon and revved up to complete the project which hundreds of avatars have expressed an average of $49.00 of interest in. The world should be my oyster.
Fukkit if sleeping in times three is how I eat my worldoyster. Is more sleep not the ambition of every working man who has ever had to get the kids dressed and out the door so they could race to punch a time clock? Is more snuggle time with the pillow not the brass ring of all retirees? Sorry if I cracked the code in middle school.
I often feel this country needs a revolution, but how can a revolution take hold before people like myself have finished our job of dissolving America from the inside? Every extra hour that I sleep-in reduces our national potency by that many joules of work output. The proles will probably build a statue to me! (Well, they’ll engrave my name on a plaque that will hang in the Dome of the People. That will be the equivalent of being carved onto Mt. Rushmore in the classless society of tomorrow).
Down to a quarter tank of coffee. Gotta get moving. Gotta finish this paragraph. This paragraph is what is delaying me from starting my workday. Gotta draw. Gotta customize a man’s Star Trek poster. Gotta illustrate a cat plotting revenge, a revenge so over-the-top that I will need my passport and plane tickets at the ready when it hits the stands. The revolution needs cats like that.
I have been a very,very, bad girl, Gaga. Many an obligation, aggravation and inebriation is to blame for the fact that I have not posted a Coffee Break in the past two weeks (and I know that those gleanings from my MAD magazine reject pile are the reason you even get out of bed on a Friday, so I accept my responsibility for the nation’s .002% increase in suicides this past month. Sorry, bereaved love ones!)
This past week has been a special pain in the ass, as Whatisdeepfried.com was hacked by some of society’s notorious scum for the purpose of advancing God knows what agenda (all signs point to some sort of bike helmet cartel). This attack brought my site down several times, until my web host apparently pinpointed the problem. So, knock wood, everything should run smoothly from now <–coderip_log_6543 GIRO BIKE HELMETS 20% OFF ALL THIS WEEK!! **this site haxxed by BlackFl4MEoftheN0RtH–FuK_yOr_SeKurtiteez!!–>
I have also been under a lot of strain from doing all the things that fall out of being a Kickstarter kingpin, from arranging convention appearances and signings to shipping products and running sales. Oh how I wish there were more hours in the day…so that I could use them for sleep! As it is, rolling out of bed every day at 11 AM to get to work after a few hours of Netflix has given me a real empathy for the lives of West Virginia coal miners. We are the 99%!
In any event, I’ve had a lot of balls in the air and the past week has made me feel like a double amputee. I aim to have my shit together for the coming week, and at the very least this means getting  new cartoons posted on Fridays! Bear with me!
