Jan 30 2013

A chariot for a goldfish


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This doodle, drawn on the same sheet of loose leaf as some hungover sea creatures, depicts a man-made object of unknown purpose. Here are my guesses on what this thing is:

  • A portable minibar.
  • A last-minute step for a poorly-designed time machine.
  • An Ozarkian musical instrument, the chairmuhlk. Continue reading …

Jan 23 2013

Sex doesn’t always sell, turns out


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Long, long ago (2007) in a land not too far away (Platteville, Wis.), I worked at a student newspaper (The Exponent). This much has been previously documented on Doodleronomy.

Less well-known was our struggle to sell papers, a tough task for a free publication. As pressure from the profit-driven upper management rose, we folded. We decided to show some skin. We immediately set out to hire an attractive model to sell our paper.

Then we saw the prices involved.

Instead, this boorish attempt at using sex appeal in advertising features an au naturel Waleed Chachar, the 61-year-old Pakistani janitor who worked in our building at the time. He was paid with newspaper staffers’ surplus meal tickets. I was the artist.* It was not a fun sitting.

Continue reading …

Jan 16 2013

Children of Some Corn


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It was the crack of dawn on a Monday. Greg stepped off his porch into his yard. Grass, wet with dew, bent beneath his boots. He walked with a skip in his step and hummed a lively tune.

It was harvest time. He was going to get to drive his lovely, green behemoth: the combine.

Greg jogged up the gravel path to the machine shed, took hold of the sliding door, and flung it open. But instead of a gleaming piece of machinery, before him was a gutted skeleton of his former implement.

“We been waitin’ for you all morning,” a tall, thin figure in the shadows said. “We was about to call the bobbies.”

Greg’s beloved combine was up on blocks. A gang of cockney corn plants was rolling away the last of the machine’s 42-inch wheels.

Continue reading …