Bluster

Happy 81st birthday Warren Oates

2009-07-05T19:33:00.000-07:00

today would have been warren oates' 81st birthday. we at bluster celebrated with a warren double feature with "Bring me the head of Alfredo Garcia" and "two-lane Black top" and the coolest cake of all time. which is above^

snarkygod, vol.4

2009-05-28T22:49:00.000-07:00

Dear God,

I want to be like you when I grow up. I’ll turn my big brother into an ant and then step on him. Ha ha.

Kenny from Pinos Altos, New Mexico

Dear Kenny,

You’ve certainly absorbed the essence of what it means to be God, but I think you should consider a more appropriate role model. No offense, kid, but we’re cut from different cloth. You have the stuff of which Junior College dropouts are made, whereas I contain infinities.

……………………………………………………

Dear God,

Is it true that we “reap what we sow,” or is that just some old wife’s tale?

Ronald from Augusta, Missouri

Dear Ronald,

If life were only that simple. Crib death, hurricanes, drunk drivers...unfortunately, most people don’t get what they deserve, they get what they get.

Look at the Native Americans. They were some of the finest peoples ever to roam the Earth, and the early colonial settlers stole their land, slaughtered them like chickens, and obliterated their culture before they could say “Geronimo.” If there was any real earthly justice, the Indians would’ve overtaken the cavalry and stuffed Manifest Destiny up the white man’s ass like an unlubricated totem pole.

……………………………………………………

Dear God,

Is it true that the U.S. government secretly commissioned a group of scientists to create the AIDS virus?

“Cass” from Molokai

Dear Cass,

All the conspiracy theories are true. NASA faked the moon landing, Oswald was a patsy, the Jews control the media, and the Pillsbury Doughboy and Fruit Pie the Magician murdered Little Debbie the night before she planned to “out” them on Larry King Live.

……………………………………………………

Dear God,

What’s “Holy Water”?

Susan from Williston, ND

Dear Susan,

It’s tap water “blessed” by some gullible, sexually-ambiguous mama’s boy who couldn’t pick a major. Listen--- water is hot, it’s cold, it’s lukewarm, it’s diluted, it’s distilled, but it’s never Holy.

You clucks would believe anything. If some dunce on TV with a nice haircut told you it would add ten years to your life, you’d all run to the local supermarket to buy “shit on a stick.”

……………………………………………………

Dear God,

I wanna bike for my birthday. I’m gonna be 8 years old and I think you know wear I live. OK?

Kaylee from Newport, New Hampshire

Dear Kaylee,

I’m not your personal vending machine. I don’t know what your folks have been telling you, but My policy is to help those who help themselves. So stop whining like Little Orphan Annie and get a fuckin’ paper route!

before you say Goodbye

2009-05-10T21:06:00.001-07:00

Love is...

2009-04-18T00:56:00.000-07:00

a blind trick or treater

a fervor of trumpets

free cheese in a mouse trap

a Zen master slipping on a banana peel

the frog in slowly boiled water

Pinocchio pissing on your head

a narcoleptic ambulance driver

a happily purchased vertigo

biting off more than you can chew

a dangerous vaccine

Forrest Gump playing chess against God

an infant pointing to a toy

a flower bending towards the light

Marilyn Monroe selling maps of the Bermuda Triangle

Godzilla stomping through downtown Tokyo

a tiny cave torch

human catnip

a swan-dive into Pandora’s box

a strange rearrangement of molecules

the Elephant Man dancing in the rain

the second shooter in the grassy knoll

Houdini, stuck on the toilet

Capra meets Hitchcock

a bloodstream of ballerinas

a pathological condition rendering us cartoonish stick figures attempting to catch a gravity-cursed bowling ball with a wet paper bag

Helen Keller on Christmas morning

a flourish of birds

Evil Knievel on Crystal Meth

candy-coated dental floss

a puppy with a pile of bones

Norman Vincent Peale juggling nuclear warheads

an ant carrying a cube of sugar on its back

Dick Cheney writing haikus

a bonfire of metaphors

The man, the myth, the Legend

2009-04-16T09:35:00.000-07:00

-Joel-

more sketch cards

2009-04-06T23:25:00.001-07:00

second group of sketch cards from top to bottom, James, Oni and Abby. all from my graphic novel, forever winter.

Sketch Cards

2009-03-18T21:35:00.001-07:00

me (Joel) and dax went into the city this weekend and picked up some artist sketch cards, so I've been knocking these Forever winter cards out ever since. from top to bottom Kry, Noah and sagegasa. All of these were inked with copic multiliners and colored with prismacolor markers for anyone who cares to know.

Thanks for lookin. Dax should post some soon as well...

-Joel "The gentlemen Ghost" Lolar-

snarky god, vol.3

2009-03-15T22:19:00.000-07:00

Dear God,

If you are all-powerful and all-loving, why does evil exist?

Karen from Crown Point, San Diego

Dear Karen,

I am so sick of this question. The whole “good vs evil” thing is meaningless to Me- that’s your hang-up. I learned a long time ago not to get personally involved. What do you people want anyway, Shari Lewis and Lambchop?

And think about it- if I were really directing the field of human action, do you think I would’ve let Jesus die on the cross while sparing Paris Hilton? Does the expression “free will” mean anything to you? When someone gets shot, do you blame Smith & Wesson? Hellllllllllllllo!!!

...............................................................................

Dear God,

Are you real?

Corey, 7 years old

Dear Corey,

No, I’m a supercomputer designed to simulate omnipotence. Smarten up, you got a long life to live. Don’t blow it by pissing Me off. Start eating your carrots and stop touching your sister in her “special place."

.....................................................................................

Dear God,

What does the future hold?

Jackie from Kadoka, SD

Dear Jackie,

Can you be a little more specific? Do you mean “future” in the sense of the collective future of humanity, or were you inquiring specifically about yourself? Being a member of the most narcissistic species on the face of the Earth, I assume you were referring to the latter. I’m not some Asbury Park fortune teller, but over the years I’ve refined My skills in the art of prognostication. So here goes…

You will marry young, to a man with his name tattooed on his knuckles, but it won’t last long. I see him dying tragically--- something to do with corn. Following a respectable bereavement, you will commence a Bataan Death March of television, bingo, and weed-pulling. Finally, after eighty-three years of stillborn dreams, you’ll die a lonely old woman in a house smelling strongly of cat litter. Your death will be slow and painful, but will pass unmourned.

As for the fate of humanity, My hunch is that through blind nationalism and rapidly advancing technological efficiency, in tandem with your natural tendencies towards warfare, and your myopic, incremental destruction of the environment, you will perilously march ever closer to effecting your own demise. But as I said--- it’s just a hunch.

.....................................................................................

Dear God,

If I don’t believe in you, can I still get into Heaven?

Henry from Jackson, Miss

Dear Henry,

Your apparent faithlessness is irksome, but all things considered, quite forgivable. However, I have no alternative but to deny you entrance into Heaven because of your unfathomable stupidity in choosing to address this question to Me- the object of your non-belief.

........................................................................................

Dear God,

What is your favorite religion?

Charles from San Francisco

Dear Charles,

Good question. Naturally, I respect all the Me-centered religions, but I suppose I have a special fondness for Christians as they basically let Me run amok without bearing any blame. All the bad in the world is assigned to either evil or the free will of humanity, while all the good in the world is chalked up to My grace. To be honest- it makes Me giggle. I never had it so good.

But now that I think about it, Hinduism kind of irks Me. In fact, all that mindless blathering about Vishnu, Krishna and Brahma makes Me want to puke. Those frauds can kiss My crusty ass. I like the Hindus, I really do- but they’re gullible. Newsflash: they worship the cow- the dumbest fuckin’ animal I ever created. They sit around preaching that the whole world is a “field of Brahman,” while praying to a giant hamburger! Every living thing in the universe is actually the same thing, wearing the disguise of otherness. What a crock.

I’ll tell ya’ what: Give all your money to the poor, let John Wayne Gacy baby-sit your kids, and dance naked in the streets and see what happens.

His name was Jason...

2009-03-12T21:58:00.001-07:00

....and today is his birthday
Happy friday the 13th everybody!

for your eyes only...

2009-03-09T22:10:00.000-07:00

Hello world, Joe Dax finally checking in. I apologize for taking so long to post up, that Mexican prison was hell! I am using this introductory entry to show off some new art action. This is a illustration of Matt Wagner's Grendel, that I made for a weekly community project over at PencilJack. I had alot of fun doing this, and threats of violence told me it was a good choice for some postage. Feel free to leave a comment, or check me at my internet home away from home. I will be posting much more in the coming days, either art or other random awesomeness I find on the internets. Thanks for stopping by!

another requiem for america

2009-03-05T23:15:00.000-08:00

While Opie’s in the alley
selling casketfuls of crack
St. Jude moans, “all is hopeless...”
as he’s gulping down Prozac.
Come all ye greasy-hearted goblins
and dreamless half-dead plastic pawns
with all the good folks along the freeway
who were cheering O.J. on.
Thy polyester Pollyannas
and sweat-drippin’ preacher frauds
singing silver spoon hosannas
stacking gold up high for God.
With psychic falling stars
and cancerous Klansmen
roulette drunken drivers
and schemers of famine.
We got pay-per-view Woodstocks
1-800-HAIL-MARY
but Santa Claus is in detox
with the bankrupt Toothfairy.
On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner, on Blitzen
far above the slow bleeding and kid-junkies fixin’.
While babies fill dumpsters
and bombers conspire
Little Red Riding-Hood
walks the high-wire.
We got rockets for the homeless
pretty flowers for the dead
and the Christian Coalition
hiding underneath your bed.
Beware of sad-eyed gang-bangers
and beat-cop guerrillas
as vending machine lawyers
fish loopholes for killers.
So viva Las Vegas
God bless the Superbowl
but as sirens pierce the gloom
“urban renewal” means parole.
While O’er the land of the ‘spree’
and the home of the slave
there are no mocking birds
or souls left to save.

KONG

2009-03-05T07:00:00.001-08:00

All hail the mighty KONG. Don't worry he is restrained...

~Tony

Before you say goodbye...

2009-03-01T21:25:00.000-08:00

hey Gang, Joel Here posting up some little preview action from Forever winter. This is a panel (its cropped) from The Back up story "Before you say Goodbye" . Colored this with my wacom Tablet, still working on the coloring not quite where I want it yet But I'm making progress.

GOJIRA

2009-03-01T21:01:00.001-08:00

Here is the almighty GOJIRA for all you monster movie fans out there. And in black and white just to be old school...

~Tony Sedani

Kry for Karl

2009-02-26T21:53:00.000-08:00

Karl slominski recently had a release party for his first book "Raygun Cowboys" I wanted to attend but couldn't really afford it. To make up for this I decided to send him a care package including the orginal art above. I'm told it's hanging above his Art desk now. Its Kry from Forever winter, who also appears in the backup story that Karl did for the book.

snarky god, vol.2

2009-02-22T22:10:00.000-08:00

Dear God,

Have you ever kicked anyone out of Heaven?

Eileen from LA

Dear Eileen,

The only person I ever kicked out was Edison. In fact, it was only a couple years ago. I know Tom has a big rep down there, but the guy was driving Me up a friggin’ wall. “You’ve should’ve done it this way...” “You should’ve done it that way...” He even had the audacity to accuse Me of cutting corners when I created the platypus. The guy tinkers with the light bulb and all of the sudden he’s an expert in the God business? Newsflash, Shitstain: I invented light!

..................................................................................

Dear God,

What makes you laugh?

Wanda from Lyme, Ct.

Dear Wanda,

My hate mail, The Weather Channel, obscene parrots, Charles Manson’s parole hearings, and declarations of everlasting love.

..................................................................................

Dear God,

Is it true that if given enough time, monkeys could type Shakespeare?

Cole from Chase City, Virginia

Dear Cole,

No, but Stephen King could probably write a trilogy during his next bowel movement.

Now that you mention it--- I’ve never understood this concept. If you were somehow able to sit every monkey on Earth behind a typewriter for the duration of their lives- all you would get is fifty zillion pages of 32tr90y3f2ihlk+ EWOUGE32 tg/3qh245390\to:D420u[JLM24GevL@gEQ[K24Gr[l67jq9ip[]k5GREb}j’$2hrWI[4PhgeFR42;GQEr]pk3hygRu9POJT31QeuFP5ol[y3IP]2KY4hR[pkL;3H\IPG3p[i2=ihjtopeblf05=3y`G0=8Guip5jh6B3GRG9UPor\02ut[peqva42y9044f3h34[I44[gg49u4g90y4tihoGHOIghiorghri[oehd034…

Chaos- be it brief or eternal- will not produce order. Evoking the classic reply to the Design Argument, the cockeyed notion that the universe is the result of an endless series of flukes. What about photosynthesis? The ozone layer? The precise ratio between gravity and electromagnetism? How can anyone dispassionately examining the evidence conclude that the universe is nothing more than particles in random motion? It’s preposterous- like pouring a giant can of alphabet soup on the kitchen floor and accidentally spelling out The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

..................................................................................

Dear God,

Roses are red
violets are blue
you gave me a stutter
so fuck, fuck, fuck you!

Seth from Buffalo

Dear Seth,

Though mildly stung by the insolent tone of your missive, I am pleased to note that you’ve reconstituted your bitterness into such fine poetry. That was sarcasm, Porky!

Forget your stutter, you just upped the ante. If I don’t receive a blubbering apology by next week, I’m going to inflict pain upon you that’ll make Job’s suffering look like an Amish hayride. Ahh...dubba...duh...dubba...duh...dubba... duh...that’s all folks.

real letter (and reply)

2009-02-12T21:59:00.000-08:00

Dear ‘Friends’,

My wife and I are vacationing in Belize this winter, and we are considering lodging our cat (“Mr. Fluffy”) with you. You have an excellent reputation among our friends and family, but I have a couple of questions regarding one of your amenities.

I was happily surprised to note that you offer “bedtime stories” as one of your special services. My wife and I have faithfully practiced this ritual since Mr. Fluffy was a kitten. While pleased to know that Mr. Fluffy will continue to enjoy bedtime stories in our absence, I was wondering what the parameters are. I ask this because my wife and I have a somewhat peculiar situation.

After trying several of the more popular bedtime stories, it became clear to us that the only one that truly captured Mr. Fluffy’s attention was The Velveteen Rabbit, which we have subsequently read to him every night for the last eight and a half years. Complicating this fact, is that my wife was born and raised in France, and finds it soothing to read the story in French. I understand that this is an unusual, and extravagant request, but if you have any French speaking people on staff, we would be greatly appreciative if one of them could read the story in French. If this is not an option, we would gladly settle for someone reading the story in a French accent. As I don’t speak French myself, I sometimes compensate in this manner. Although I’m sure Mr. Fluffy realizes that I’m not speaking proper French, he seems grateful for the effort. As we ourselves would be for yours!

Please get back to me regarding our concerns at your earliest convenience. Thanks in advance for your consideration.

Sincerely,

David Kane (on behalf of Mr. Fluffy)

Dear Mr. Kane,

Thank you for considering Best Friends for your pet. Our Brockton staff would be happy to accommodate your request for Mr. Fluffy. Please give them a call at your earliest convenience.

Thanks again for writing to Best Friends.

Barbara B.
Best Friends Pet Care
Customer Care Team

New Bluster store

2009-02-12T21:32:00.000-08:00

Issue Number five of Bluster is now on sale at New england comics in Brockton.

New England Comics
East Crossing Plaza
744 Crescent St
Brockton MA,02302

Phone 508-559-5068

Forever Winter Poster

2009-02-10T22:23:00.001-08:00

Colors by the unstoppable KansaTron aka Jacob rhodes

22 Reasons Why I'll Never Fuck You

2009-02-06T00:14:00.000-08:00

1] Your shrill metallic laughter scrapes the enamel off my teeth.

2] When you make out your grocery list, you ‘dot’ your i’s with little stars.

3] The time you declined eggplant, citing your allergy to eggs.

4] While you claim to believe in God- you’re clearly unable to support your faith with cogent analysis.

5] Your freakish ability to ‘Instant Message’ right as I’m about to ejaculate.

6] You’ve never wondered why pounds is abbreviated lbs..

7] Your egregious overuse of the ;-] wink symbol.

8] Your sadistic need to dazzle me with the plotline of your latest dream.
Apparently, dozing off and drooling from the corner of my mouth suggests anticipation.

9] While you frequently ‘take a penny’, you never ‘leave a penny’.

10] Your perverse fascination with snow-globes.

11] The time you publicly berated me for violating “coupon etiquette.”

12] Your staunch refusal to play the lottery unless the jackpot reaches
$20, 000, 000- as if $19, 786, 809. is somehow insufficient.

13] You say you’re a “fatalist,” but you always look both ways before crossing.

14] Your broad misapplication of the word irony.

15] You never finished The Brothers Karamazov.

16] Last Christmas you gave me an electronic stapler.

17] You named your cat “Mittens.”

18] You’d happily shell out 10 bucks to see Brad Pitt star in a movie
about the man who invented the paperclip.

19] Your preference for ‘creamy’ peanut butter over ‘chunky’.

20] Your ridiculous attempts to sneeze without blinking.

21] I hate you with the intensity of a thousand suns.

22] No matter how much I beg, you still won’t put out.

Sugegasa

2009-02-05T22:35:00.000-08:00

New Forever winter Character design.

-Joel-

running away

2009-02-05T01:24:00.000-08:00

Michael swallowed hard. His mouth felt cloth-tongued and he was nearly choking on the square knot of fear in his throat. He tried to relax, but he could feel the melty sting of tears form behind his eyes. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry.

Jay looked like he might cry for the last hour or so. He had wound the nylon strap of his gym bag tightly around his right hand and sat with the lumpy bag in his lap. Ensconced in the corner of the backseat, he leaned against the window, wordlessly watching the trees and rock blur by.

Every once in a while, Michael noticed Ian gaze in the rear view mirror at Jay as if he were inspecting a wounded bird. Ian was mostly quiet, but occasionally tried to make bits of conversation in a hopeless attempt to distract them. He couldn’t figure out why Ellen had chosen him for this assignment. He didn't even know the boys, but maybe that was the point. In the conspicuous silence, Ian studied the stretching highway in front of him as he plowed the turnpike towards Boston.

Every few minutes, Michael and Ian could hear Jay snapping his gum behind them. If it weren’t for those quick resonant snaps, you would’ve thought he was asleep. Michael hated the sound of Jay popping bubbles. Sometimes it seemed like he did it just to annoy him. Jay usually stopped if Michael complained, but he always managed to get in one last pop. This time Michael didn’t say anything.

Jay felt betrayed by their mother. He always believed that his Mom was the one person he could depend on, but now she was shipping them off like pieces of freight. They had become problems she could no longer deal with. First their father, Jake, had lost visitation rights, then their “Dad,” John Dansley, had divorced their Mom and moved to San Francisco, and now this. Someone was always leaving them.

Michael felt sick to his stomach. Even as they pushed closer to Boston, it didn’t seem real; like they were acting out a scene from a movie. The three of them had planned this, but now that it was happening, he sensed an invisible force dragging him towards danger. Feeling Jay’s silence, Michael wanted to say something. Occasionally, he’d sneak a glance over his shoulder at him, but he couldn’t make eye contact.

He tried not to think about it, but he couldn’t help wondering, “What if they don’t want us?” The one time they had brought the subject up, the Kelliher’s expressed reluctance. Jake, their father, seemed rattled by the idea of taking the boys in. “What about your hero, John Dansley- what does he think about all this?” Nana Kelliher said she was “too old to raise children again...”

When Ian dropped them off at South Station, he parked the car and walked with the boys over to the station. He bought them Cokes and asked if they wanted him to wait with them until Jake or Maura picked them up. Michael thanked Ian, but said they’d be fine. They took the bus by themselves all the time, and if their ride saw Ian, it would ruin the story. The story was simple: Michael & Jay came home from school one day and the apartment was empty, except for their travel bags and an envelope with a note written on it from their mother.

Dear Mike & Jay,

Please use the money in the envelope to take the bus to Boston. Call the Kellihers when you get there and tell them I left. I’m very sorry and I love both of you more than I can say.

Mom

snarky god, vol.1

2009-02-04T22:33:00.000-08:00

Dear God,

I’m an unemployed thirty-six-year-old dwarf. I have bad skin, soft teeth, and my hairline’s retreating faster than the Indians who first encountered the Gatling gun. I don’t have a question so much as a comment: You’re either a cruel hoax or a fucking sadist, and I hope the Devil kicks you in the nuts.

Affectionately yours, Hank from Bangor

Dear Hank,

Did anyone ever tell you that I’m beautiful when you’re angry? Hey, I admit, you’re hardly My best work, but it could be worse- you could be a quadriplegic with an itchy torso. And look on the bright side- if things don’t work out for you in the adult entertainment industry, you can always join the circus.

In any event, you’ll always have junk food and masturbation to fall back on. Which reminds Me- My suggestion to “be fruitful and multiply” doesn’t apply to everyone. In your case, I’ll have to insist that you “be fruitful” and then reach for a Kleenex.

..................................................................................................

Dear God,

Where ARE you?!? Did you ever think that we might need to actually feel your presence rather than praying to a faceless sky?

Kristin from Norwich, NY

Dear Kristin,

You don’t want a God, you want a partner for the three-legged race. Believe Me, I love you all- even petulant little ingrates like you. But I’m not your pen pal- I’m the Lord of Lords. While you’re down there whining about new bags of potato chips being half-empty, I’m up here, collating chaos.

But wait- I just thought of something that might bring us closer together. We could play a game. How about “hide and seek”? I’ll hide first.

....................................................................................................

Dear God,

Why is Charlie Brown bald?

CJ from Beaumont, Tx

Dear CJ,

You’ve put your finger on one of the great riddles of the 20th century. For those of you who missed it, the mystery behind Chuck’s premature baldness was finally revealed in the 1983 Peanuts Special: Chemotherapy Sucks, Charlie Brown!

......................................................................................................

Dear God,

Why don’t people like me? Is there something I can do so people will like me more?

Kyle from Ridgefield, WA

Dear Kyle,

It’s just a theory, but I think your lack of popularity may be the result of your optional hygiene regimen, your freaky twitch, and the fact that you possess the collective charm of an elevator fart. My advice is to change your name to Bob, learn an instrument, quit college, and start wearing your underwear on the outside of your pants. This is the word of the Lord.

Submissions & Ordering Copies

2009-02-01T16:52:00.000-08:00

Bluster Magazine is now accepting submissions for its next issue. We're looking for smart, edgy writing and graphic art, with a focus on story telling. Please submit at blustermag@yahoo.com. We're eager to see your stuff!

To order copies of the latest issue of Bluster,please send a check or money order for 7$ made out to Bluster, 96 Carey St. Rockland, Mass. 02370

Killing on Mute

2009-01-27T09:30:00.000-08:00

This is a Page from A forever winter Back up story By The super cool and super talented Karl Slominski. Check out some of Karl's other work in the friends of Bluster links section.

God’s List Of Things To Do

2009-01-26T21:26:00.000-08:00

make vengeance My own

increase exercise regimen to maintain omnipotence

be everywhere

arbitrarily dispense ‘Wages of Sin’

take J.C. to a ball game

count how many people worship Me

forgive them, for they know not what they do

sign non-aggression pact with Devil- bring Dershowitz

help those who help themselves

maintain illusion that I care

new contract therapy: controlling wrath

play dice with universe

take out the trash

Bluster stores

2009-01-25T11:25:00.000-08:00

bluster is currently in these stores in the Boston area.

New England comics
Cambridge (Harvard Square) 14A Eliot Street
617-354-5352

New England comics
Allston (Boston) 131 Harvard Avenue
617-783-1848

New England Comics
Brookline [Coolidge Corner]
316 Harvard St.
617-566-0115

The million year Picnic
99 Mt. Auburn Street (downstairs)
Cambridge, MA 02138
Tel. (617) 492-6763
Fax. (617) 492-6310