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Mammaw's cookbook (Pieces of Me P.S. ) Dec. 19th, 2016 @ 04:11 am
My mom told my aunt I had it. No, they didn't read this LJ, they don't even know it exists.

But they want it. I have until Christmas to return it.

Along with my photos. My aunt said "My mom" had one she had never seen until now. So I have to bring them, too.

There was no provisions in the will for grandkids to inherit anything
So it's "officially" my mom's.
Mom gave it to her.
I have, literally, one ace. I'm hiding it before mom gets here.
I'm going to try and keep even just a couple of the handwritten recipes.
I told my aunt that. That I just wanted her handwriting.
No. She said she wanted the book because she had nothing.
That's a fucking lie.
She has all her jewelry.
Anything she wanted, SHE HANDLED THE WILL. Thought about faking it. Thought about hiding it. There's still a major different between handwritten and printed words.
And the binder has dividers she wrote on. The ring. Some photoes, those I can at least scan.
And the cookbook
I didn't ask for anything big when she died. I just wanted the book because it's the one we used my whole life.
All those years I was there helping her.
When they just showed up to eat and leave
If Aunt Carolyn was alive this wouldn't have happened.
It was supposed to be her handling the will. I know them.
They'll start showing up.
I have something they decided is theirs.
I either give it up, or I'll snap and hurt one of them.
The last time I tried to hold out they started calling CPS on me. I have Mammaw's nativity.
I'd kill one of them before they could get out of the house with it.
So it's best just to hide it. I guess I'm an outsider. They've always treated in laws like trash.
I don't look like them, act like them, think like them.
I just wanted to be left alone to mourn the one of them I loved.
I gave up when they gave Uncle Tommy her car.
She'd specifically written in the will that it was to be sold and the proceeds split.
It was worth money, and he'd yelled at her for letting me drive it.
I was taking her to doctors and to the grocery store.
And said "I don't want her to tear up my car"
And she said "Who's car, Tommy?" It all comes down to that Christmas two years ago. Christ, why is it always Christmas?
I don't know. I don't know.
Mom kept throwing fits.
Just tempter tantrums, it's what she did.
Not that she had to do anything, she just kept screaming that we couldn't keep hosting.
Well, she threw a plate of food on the floor.
It got all over Jack's new toys, almost hit Jack.
He was two, sitting in the floor, playing.
He lost it. Started cleaning up, but threw potatoes at her.
She started screaming at me to call 911.
She and I go at it, screaming, whatever, that was usual.
Until she grabbed the entire buffet table, ready to turn it over.
It wasn't the food....Jack was still sitting in the floor. I dunno, my brain went through one of those movie calculations. The ham and the hot pot were right there, he was in the floor.
I slammed my hands down on the table. I didn't scream. I was just holding the other side. I keep remembering I didn't scream.
I just said "Try me." I don't know. Mom never gave up that easily.
She stood up and went to her room.
And her entire demeanor changed.
For a week.
Then she had the stroke.
My mother in law said mom realized right then I wasn't playing by the rules anymore.
If she'd turned that table over on my baby, I was going to hurt her. My plan was to shove it into her if she tried. I knew I was stronger than mom.
That's why I was holding the other side.
I was just going to yell for Jeff to grab Jack and 31 years of abuse was about to throw down in that living room, I think.
I guess she saw it on my face.
I can't protect me, I gave up years ago...but I think it's my boys.
I can still protect them.
Maybe they just drove me crazy over the years, I dunno.
That's why I was holding the other side.
I was just going to yell for Jeff to grab Jack and 31 years of abuse was about to throw down in that living room, I think.
I guess she saw it on my face.
I can't protect me, I gave up years ago...but I think it's my boys.
I can still protect them.
Maybe they just drove me crazy over the years, I dunno.
Current Mood: Defeated

Pieces of me #3 Dec. 16th, 2016 @ 08:52 am
All I've said is how I feel.
I maybe couldn't help someone financially....but I'll listen for days. If they need a place, I have a spare room, if they're hungry, I'll feed them.
I'd do that for any one of you. For one reason or another.
We're a family of choice. I don't fool myself for a moment about the abuse in my background being formative. I reached out to the people I was told all my life could help me: Teachers, the police, therapists....my family....and no one saved me.My mammaw admitted once that helping me would have meant they would have had to commit my mom, and they couldn't do it. I've had to come to terms that I was alone at 11...that people saw what was happening...and chose my 35 year old mother over me.
I had to start taking care of her, and the house, and myself.So I CAN'T turn my back on the kids here.
I can't. I remember crying in Jeff's arms about it once. They'd called to torment me on Christmas day, and it all just flooded out. "How could they, I was just a little girl.."
Oh, no, I had to decide I couldn't be the victim.
I couldn't take that out on my boys, or other people.
They didn't do it. rom the day dad left, I was alone, except for my friends. Until I had Leonard. There was baggage I had to shed. Like I didn't HAVE to go there, and let them hurt me anymore. It's all a big, messy process, and I was pretty screwed up as a teen, young adult. My boys help. Art helps. This community.
So I've been there. wish people that were abused, people my age, that do follow in their abusers footsteps....who think it's normal to beat the shit out of a baby, or lock a kid in the closet like what happened to me...
Just stop.
Remember being that frightened little child.
The world is so big, and we're all so small, and they're smallest of all. Don't perpetuate it.If even one person in this community comes away saying they're better for having met me, safer, feel better about who they are, whatever, then that's why I was here.
It's why I stay up late talking to teenagers.I'm sure it's made more than one parent nervous. LOL. Those folks aren't the ones that worry me.
It's the ones that have no idea what their kids are up to, and don't care. It's funny. All my RP characters, well...my best, my current ones? All male. The kids on the sub would probably try and make me out to be trans.
I'm just...have always been more comfortable with male company.
I don't usually get along with other women. I either...threaten women in power somehow...
Or just unintentionally bristle to another Alpha trying to take over my space.
I don't do make up, hair, dresses, frilly things.
I wear t-shirts, jeans, some steampunk stuff.
Worship more...."traditionally" male forms of entertainment. And my abuser was a woman.Three women, my mom and two aunts. My cousins tried to join in recently. I shut that down.
I only deal with them as much as I HAVE to.
Trista, my cousins daughter got on the phone, after Misty had accused me, with no evidence mind you, that I'd tried to kill my mom when she "overdosed" on her medicine. It wasn't an overdose, and an overdose wasn't found in her system.
Her kidneys shut down, and the meds couldn't be filtered.I'd told Misty this, and told her that refusing to see reality wasn't my problem, and stay away from my house, and my family.
Trista snagged the phone "Don't you ever talk to my mom like that." and I said "Why don't you come on over here and say that to my face? Or are you a coward just like your mom? I notice this never happens in person."
"We just don't want to upset your mom in person." "My mom is sitting right there, you're as bad a liar as your mother.""Don't call me ever again" "Um....Trista, I haven't called you since you were 16 years old, don't even want your number. Lose mine." Last Christmas.
They'd gotten my mom out of the home two days before Christmas, knowing she could only be out 72 hours.
Then drove with her 3 hours out of town Christmas day.
I called to thank them for making sure my mom couldn't see her grandsons on Christmas.
We just started tearing at each other.
I said she never came and saw mom during the coma, when I was there from 5 am to midnight each day. She said "No, I just came when she was awake and you were wandering SOMEWHERE THE FUCK AROUND THE HOSPITAL, PROBABLY GETTING COFFEE" "Oh, right. See, A.) I thought you were coming to help me, give me a break. I should've known better, and B.) I didn't want to fucking be around you."
It got uglier.
I haven't talked to Misty since.
She apparently sent a message to my old cell number, mistook the lady that now has the cellphone saying "LOL" for lots of love, and said something sappy, and the lady cussed her out in Spanish, apparently she got ass hurt about this? I asked my aunt "Why would I curse Misty out in Spanish? Is she that stupid?"
I sent her a message, said "Misty, that isn't my number. Hasn't been for months." And she texted me back "Well, it was the one I had, and I looked up what all she said, and I just didn't know"
I never responded.
I can't help the breathtakingly stupid.
But that's how they are.
They get together and trade stories and....I don't know.
I don't know what they think.
I've done one thing I wasn't proud of, but when they brought it up to my aunt lucy, trying to say I was dangerous, she said if they'd hit Jennifer or Dennis when they were kids they'd be dead.
So they didn't try that angle anymore.I don't know.
I'm not like them, I don't think like them. She hit Jack for opening a gift my mom had told him was his. My mom was confused. The stroke did that.
The damage to her short term memory was severe. Jack was 3. I broke Amber's nose and cheekbone. It wasn't hard, I introduced her face to the table.
That was the incident where they tried to pass me off as dangerous.I said then "Not my kids. They aren't yours to do this to."
I don't know. Louisa, my ex, said once she had never met more hateful people. Ever. They were like the villains in books, that the house at holidays were poison.
That she didn't know how I did it.
After Mammaw passed, I stopped doing that to myself.
Then mom got sick, and they contrived to get Power of Attorney away from me. Mom kept asking me how, and I said she'd signed the papers. She'd cry and say "No I didn't, I'd never do something like that to you"
"Yes you did. I don't know what they told you, but you did."
"They did keep telling me to sign something, and I said "This won't hurt Renee, will it? Will it?"
Then my Aunt Lucy told me they changed the power of attorney because my mom asked them to.
And I don't know what's true.Aunt Lucy says she doesn't want it, she hates it, she didn't know my mom acted like that.
I said "I told you all. For 30 years."
"But you have it now. I took care of her since I was 11. It's time to just be a daughter."
I may never know the truth. I'd find them writing things like "Renee can't help you, don't call her."
In her notebook. The one she uses since the stroke took away her memory. I had to work. I joke around that my whole family only works until they can get on disability for one reason or another.
Misty, Dennis, Trista...they didn't need to work.
They could be there, daily, screwing with her.
Telling the doctors things. I still don't know how, but they got her medical records changed, and they somehow got someone to witness a woman who already wasn't in her right mind signing a paper to take power of attorney from her daughter.
And all I can figure, is they wanted to hurt me. They couldn't get to me any other way anymore.
I'd shut them out.
Someone asked me once if I believed people could be evil. The only answer I had was yes.I don't know why they hate me. Jennifer's been to prison. Trista has been a drug addict, stolen, and disgnosed as Bi-polar, then just depressed, then "I don't know"
Misty has had four husbands, spent all of her kids money from their dead dad, then kicked them out.But they hate ME. Aunt Lucy hits and gripes and screams, Uncle Ray beat my mom, screamed at anyone he wants all the time, particularly if he doesn't feel good. Took out my mom making sure Mammaw's living will was recognized on me and her both. He'd been put in charge of her will and all that, and wasn't going to give it to the hospital, so they could keep her on life support. He then flaked out when Mammaw had been depending on him, and let Aunt Lucy divide up the will. We got nothing. We literally needed a washer and dryer, and she took the ones there, and gave them to her son, who "Has a set probably better than these I gave him"
Uncle Ray took the ring off the table I'd paid mammaw for before she died....the Mason ring....my son Leonard was named for my pawpaw, and he'd been the Mason...it wasn't often said, but Leonard was the only great grandchild that was actually HIS. My mom and Uncle Ray were his, the first three were from another marriage
I was his only grandchild, and his birthday girl...
He gave me a room in the house, and there was a rumor Uncle Tommy insisted I leave because Mammaw was going to leave me the house..
Uncle Ray took the ring and handed it to my cousin Brian.
I got nothing of my Pawpaw's. They cleaned the house out by the time mom and I got there.
They gave her the food from the fridge.
The Super Nintendo....I got the two Furby I'd bought her. Mammaw was my real mommy...in all the ways that matter...and she was closer to my kids, that wasn't a secret. I took them to see her more. I've tried to ask people from the outside what's wrong with them...what's wrong with ME that they hate me so much..
The best answer I've heard is "You aren't like them"
My dad...well, lol. He's my dad, you know? "You're tall, you're not 400 pounds, you're beautiful, you're smarter than them, you're better educated than them."
"They have to try to drag you down to their level."
I don't know if all that is true, but I do think it's because I'm different.I suppose even the most spiteful famlies
have a black sheep.

That is Kyle, Ashley, Misty, Trista, and Amber.

Alec, Hailey, my very pretty cousin, Jennifer (LOL half the reason I don't buy dad's story entirely either.) I like Alec.
He hates his "Granny", my Aunt Lucy.
Like loathes her.
When she was bitching at me about buying Starbucks for mom when Mammaw was sick, he went and got himself a massive frappe.
The whole way there muttering to himself "Tell ME what I can do with my money, I dare her, I hate her so much..."
"Avoided seeing mammaw because that meant I had to see her, HATE her.."

Aunt Lucy, and the neighbor kids she likely has raised more than my cousin Jennifer, who Mammaw raised.

But now....
The day I brought Jack home from the hospital. The only picture I have of Mammaw with both of them. She'd made my favorite meal that day. Red beans mustard greens...hot tomatoes (It's a Texas thing" and unsweetened cornbread. She used to joke that she never had to call me to come eat them, I always somehow knew. I even got released
from the hospital to come get them, apparently.

My Pawpaw. I was born on his birthday. He showed up to the hospital with a few little dresses...said he was there to take his birthday present home. When he passed on, when it wasn't OUR birthday anymore...I nearly stopped celebrating.
It's never been the same.

Finally my Aunt Carolyn. My mammaws oldest daughter. She used to let me come spend the night, and always welcomed me into her home, even if just dropping in on my way home from work to say hi. Defended me like Mammaw would. She understood me, she'd smooth over fights that were happening because THEY misunderstood my intentions.
She died 5 years before Mammaw passed.My mammaw was in the room when they unhooked her ventilator. She sat talking with her until she was gone.They'd asked if she wanted to even be there, and she said "I held her hand when she came into the world, I'll hold it when she leaves."She was the same age I was when I had Leonard when she had her.
And I heard her talking to her as she was finally going down. She'd said even before going in "God give me strength...give me strength, I'm not stong enough to do this alone"
But as Aunt Carolyn was about to flatline, she asked her one last time if she wanted the ventilator again, aunt Carolyn shook her head, and Mammaw said "Well, then you just hold on to my hand until you see your Granny, and you take hers."

The grand sum total of people besides my dad and my new family I believe ever loved me like a family should. I'm so glad I had them. When I was a scared runaway, Pawpaw gave me Jennifers old room. That was "my room" until mammaw died. I could always come sleep there. Mammaw would get to play Mommy again with my boys. I still rememember her gently peeling Leonard's socks off
when he'd fallen asleep on the couch. He never even blinked. 5 kids, Us 6 grandkids, and our heathens, she'd had plenty of practice. She was closer to both my boys. She saw them more. She'd call me when she needed a "baby fix."

One of my greatest regrets in life...I'd seen her the night before she went to the hospital. She'd seemed fine. She was smiling and healthy. I'd been on the run, picking up something for my mom. Mammaw said "Are the boys in the van?" I said yeah, but I'd bring them to see her on the weekend, I didn't have time to slow down. She just smiled and said okay, and waved to them.
That weekend, with the best mom I'd ever known, never came. I blew our last chance to visit.

Even now that reduced me to tears. Grief is a funny thing.

They're all 3 gone now.
But I have my boys, and my husband, and that family now.
When they weren't going to let me in to see Mammaw before she died, it was them that literally gathered around me in a circle and walked me in so I could say goodbye.
They're my family. They held me together as that all happened. When they scheduled her viewing on my birthday, despite my Aunt originally saying if it landed on her grandson Ale'c birthday three days before that, they'd move it. Couldn't do that to him, but when Jennifer reminded her it was going to be mine, she literally yelled at her "Well she can't help it when she died!" Jack was 5 months old, he needed tended, I had to stop myself from sinking into depression, he needed me.
Like I told Freda at Big Jeff's funeral...everything I actually knew about being a family I learned from watching her and B.Jeff
I didn't know how abnormal it had been until I got out there and saw how other families worked. Then there was this...Remember me talking about my Mammaw, and how very beautiful she was?
The one where, when she was dying, an old friend of the family that hadn't seen us in close to 30 years came in....and picked me out as family from across the room. "I...my GOD, I knew this one was...." and she kept looking over at me and saying "She looks so much like your mother. SO MUCH"
I told my uncle that was impossible, Mammaw had been so beautiful...

And this is me around the same age...

I wonder if I can't see it since she was so perfect, and I was raised to believe I was so much trash.

This season can be hard on me. I keep thinking I should be at Mammaw's house, making candy and pies (Yes, this usually took an entire week to do). I do have one little secret up my sleeve, though, that makes it a little more enjoyable....

I got Mammaw's cookbook when they'd all left to go get some food. All those hand written notes, all the wonderful Christmas foods...I was the only one that ever helped her cook. So I snuck it home. XD

I may never understand their hatred, but I see this communites love...and everyone, I hope you all know...all understand...I'm here for you. I won't abandon any of you as I was abandoned. I'm not looking for fame or reward. Heck, I'm an artist, I used to joke when people would ask me what my degree plan was, answering "Waiting tables".
Fame and fortune will likely never be mine. That's okay. So much so that I just ask that you pay it forward. Find a sad child in the chat? I doesn't kill me to listen, it's my HONOR. And who knows...maybe one day some little kids are going to be calling me Mammaw.

Review of The Fly: Outbreak#3 Sep. 4th, 2016 @ 06:37 am
Okay. After some healing, a little cleansing, maybe a new prescription, I'm back for part three. I'm sorry, this is going to be a very graphics heavy entry, because I just could not let all of these gems go to waste. This is true reality comedy. This is gold. SO! If you've read part 1 and part 2, let's dive right on in, shall we?

When I said we were kicking it right off, I meant it. This, what I discovered to be a dream sequence, is the first actual page past the credits. You know, if I'd "drawn" this book, I don't think I'd want that up and center each time. Maybe it's like the old director quote. His name is first so you know who to blame. Anyway. Martin is dreaming...I think..or zoning out. Without eyelids it's hard to tell. He's doing the "It's right behind me" bit, though my favorite part has to be when he says "I don't have to look". Well, that's good, Martin, because the artist only has that one face for this page. It's like he was being personally charged money each emotional change. Like when you go to a served buffet and they give you a teeny amount of sour cream and guacamole, and you're tempted to ask if it comes out of their paycheck if it's wasted? I KNOW this actor made more faces than this during his career, steal from other movies if he hadn't figured out fear when he made this one!

Martin has a run in, in his room, with Noelani, who is doing better at Hoo-man arm-ing, but mainly this is for the reveal that all the Fly Flu victims have been put of some veeeeeeeery super psychotropic and therapeutic drugs. We're talking lithium. THAT is a jump. Not even just plain ol' Prozac, no, time to break out the life changers.

I include this page for two reasons. First of all...those urinals aren't there. You can convince me that baby unicorns are flying out of Martin's peehole and doing battle with the Rebel Alliance from Star Wars before I will believe those are real urinals, in this "world" so to speak. Martin is peeing on modern art. Secondly....please read that page. Listen to the sounds being made from that toilet stall. Just...really picture them in your head. If you a dude, tell me now. Do you approach the man making those sounds, reach to open the door, or do you not even wipe the pee off the wall where you were and just run out and pretend you were never born? Because I can let you guess my vote. He is OBVIOUSLY playing a very strenuous game of Whack'a mole and Martin is about to bust in like everyone's nightmare of their mom when they were 13. Martin! They can't do the sex! Leave him alone!

Okay, so. Still not sure I was wrong about the whack'a mole.

See Martin, this is why you don't disturb a mentally disturbed Fly Man who's "crying" (I put that in quotes seeing as I still refuse to believe the viscous liquid drizzling down these people's faces are tears) man who is beating his meat in the bathroom. Do fruit fly have two like flea? Was he just confused about which one to use? Was his rhythm and hand coordination thrown off by having to attempt it two hands? How will he hold his Fly Porn?
Regardless, this is the most interesting method of suicide I've seen. How is he hanging there? They never show his feet. WHAT did he do to himself precisely? I mean, I went and got my glasses and everything, and I still can't discern what precisely was the fatal blow here. Did he slit his own throat? Try and tear his own head off? Pull his tongue out through his neck? All options! They mention something about Martin or them or whatever trying to stop him and that's how he wound up on the ceiling, but unless I'm very confused about the height of these rooms, wouldn't he still have been within reach? What did hanging upside down do for him? Anyway, these body mutations are not that grotesque, compared to what you'll see shortly, so I'm forced to believe this guy was SUPER attached to his hair. Becccccaaaause.....

Oh my God what. Like this is two pages later. TWO....PAGES. I don't know where to start! The weird Popeye arm? The pinched face? The hunch!? What is the hunch!? I've never seen this in either of the Fly movies! Why is she doing that? What is in that...nevermind. Don't tell me. Don't...but seriously neck/tongue/decapitating masterbater, you had it good.

This page...this page is just everything wrong/right with this whole comic series. First of all, we discover Noelani is a closetalker, so eew. Also, she describes a fun fact about fruit fly sex, the only reason I'm convinced we changed from the common housefly to the fruit fly to begin with. For those that can't read it, she says, while still close talking, and oozing/crying, " Ever wikipedia-ed (A scientist using a noun as a verb yay) fruit fly sex? (Hasn't everyone, Noelani?) In the middle of doing it...(Again, SCIENTIST) the dude (Brah) fruit fly's dick impales the lady fruit fly in the business! (Um, Noelani. Yes. That is the sexing.) Then he cums toxic jizz into her bloodstream!"

I'm going to really, really give you a minute to soak that all in. The close talking. The oozing. The toxic jizz. Now.

"Isn't that facinating!? A Lady fly's parts! You're feeling up history! (Where is Martin's hand?) And, feel that? ( No, REALLY, where!?) It rotates! So, apparently, when the male.."

I would comment more on this and the mystery of where Martin's hands were, had I not been...LOL, I'm sorry, but...not been interrupted by that...buwahaha...that last panel. That last panel is my everything. Martin....I mean, even with Noelani, I THINK, shoving Martin's hand into her spinning vah-jay-jay, that last panel....guys, this is a serious comic, and that panel is a cartoon. He has booked express tickets to the Nope train. NO ONE runs like that. That is Shaggy from Scooby-Doo. Martin's legs are caught here mid-spin. It's even better if you just hear "nopenopenopenopeNopeNopeNopeNOPE!" In your head.

Martin outran the Nope Train and managed to come up with a cure LIKERIGHTNOW because of the power of nope. He presents a fairly solid way out of this whole problem within panels of Noelani's Oral B Vag. He also somehow changed into a black, long coat he hasn't had since issue 1, so I'm thinking this whole thing was "drawn" for it and just used here. We have not seen this coat ever since they got on the island, and you do NOT see it again. Spoilers, I know, but this is the kind of oversight in the Marvel editing department that just...blows my mind. Maybe they instead here actually had really awkward pics of blank faces and a spinning vagina and the editors just...spliced these pics in and counted on their utterly exhausted reader base to just not notice? Regardless, next page his plan here is dismissed, and listen to this, because "100,000" "What?" "People waiting on the organ transplant list."

His plan is dismissed because, real story, they can't get the organs. I just....just. Guys. You made FLY PEOPLE. You KIDNAPPED people and took them to Plague Island for Quarantine!! This whole thing is OBVIOUSLY not government sanctioned, it is the Lost TV series version of DARPA! YOU can get bodies! Like you can probably order them from an app on your phone, like a fucking Domino's Pizza! No! I can't believe this for an instant! This is all the wrong kinda hand wavey! Just ugh. At least that gives us the comedy gold of Martin, Destroyer of Worlds and Purveyor of Stupid, drinking. I mean like a whole bottle. He is chugging a bottle of something in his scrubs. Where it came from, who knows. Maybe he dug it up out of Typhoid Mary's room, she was Irish.

Anyway, Martin, Destroyer of Worlds, gets, to no one's surprise, philosophical while drunk, and decides the fly people, who are now encasing themselves in cocoons similar to those seen in issue #1, should get to choose the manner of their whole death, after refusing that very thing earlier to Noelani. How does he do this? Give them drugs? A button to gas the room when they wake up? Nope. You know what he does. You know.

He opens the God damn door.


Is the amazing result. While he is yet again applying to the Ministry of Funny Walks, high tailing it across the yard (Going where, Martin, it's an island. Is that why you're running like that? Are you about to try and run across the ocean? You are, aren't you?) That happens. A acid skull face soldier is thrown directly in his path. He DARES to actually say, with the REGRET.JPG expression "N-No. I just wanted to help"

DON'T HELP MARTIN. You are SO BAD at helping. I promise you, this man has gone to help a little old lady get her cat, and he's flung it into lower orbit. He has gone to help and old man across the street and walked him into a semi. He has attempted to save a choking infant by spiking it like a football. He should..not..help...anyone.

I round off this entry, finally, with this, the final page of issue #3. His wife, with sedate face, has shown up to rescue him. I didn't bother to show you, because that's their faces at the top. Same three panels from the page before, so I'll save you the time. She even did her hair for this rescue mission. Not really tied back, that's kind of a loose bun, you can already see it hanging in her face. Her stupid face isn't the point, though. No. My final point is this....are any of those people mutating into the same thing!? That one is fuzzy, that one is lumpy, that one is a Grey Alien. WHAT happened in those cocoons!? Are they like the armor customization pods in Dead Space? Did they trick themselves out, is there FLAME decals on one? I guess we'll just have to wait for next issue. 2 more to go.

2 more.

I need a pill.

The Fly: Outbreak #2 Aug. 22nd, 2016 @ 02:23 am
It's not often that the number of a particular issue of a comic also perfectly serves as a descriptive, but in this case, I think it's a VERY apt subtitle.

When we left off, Martin and the Fly Splatter Crew were transported to an island hospital that looked a great deal like Chernobyl. He manages a lot of exposition in just a couple of pages of the comic, where we discover they are in fact on North Brother Island, where Mary Mallon, otherwise known as Typhoid Mary, lived out the last decades of her life. I was no so far off in my assessment last time.

We ALSO discover here, that for no good reason other than possibly some mating peculiarity, we've changed fly species! No longer the Common House Fly, we are now in fact dealing with FRUIT FLY DNA. Aside from shortened life spans, that also means they...why are they violent to people? Shouldn't they just be annoying them in the lunch room? Bumping into that particularly brown banana, or attempting to get into strawberry Dannon cups? I do not know when or why we changed fly species, but we have.

Martin begins to techno babble to his wife about a transgenic virus that he, until now, only suspected existed. I will be saving myself time by calling this Fly Flu. Why he thinks Fly Flu is a thing I'm not sure, seeing as his father obviously got hit buggy rocks off sans a rubber, seeing as Martin exists, but his mother didn't turn into a fly. Nor the hooker his dad hooked up with...or Martin's wife....okay, now that I list it that way, why is this a thing? Why does he think it's a thing? I could start fearing the Boogeyman Ebola myself, but it's no reason for quarantine. This is just not a thing; it isn't a thing that exists. Until this comic, you get flied by misuse of the telepods, or in Martin's case, he was born part fly. Though they constantly call him half fly, and that also doesn't work, seeing as his father was half, and his mother just had the misfortune of being Geena Davis.

He discusses fly transgenes with his wife on an illicit face cam, and while that just makes me imagine fruit flies in tiny little dresses and garters, we move on to lunch the next day, with Martin alone, listening to people bitch about him, and his assistant from the first book the only one willing to come talk to him.

While Noelani sits like no Hoo-man being ever has to listen, Martin starts the run down on the "Stages" of the disease. These three or so pages are important; because we get to see that like...fucking everyone has Fly Flu. Fly Flu is a thing. Martin terror wished this shit into existence. For those that have seen the first movie, this list of symptoms will sound familiar, but I'll list them here for the unfortunate few who have somehow missed out on all the best Jeff Goldblum had to offer as an actor: Hairs growing out of wounds, as seen on impossibly red haired girl...like seriously that hair. That fucking hair worries me more than the pubes now growing out of her hand-gina wound. Why....why is she letting that happen? She's gonna just pluck them out and keep going, isn't she?
Next comes insomnia, which...I guess means I've had Fly Flu since I was 18. They show the "OH GOD" impossible time of 3:32 AM on a digital clock. Seriously. Fuck you. That isn't insomnia. Insomnia is greeting the sun after two days without even a nap like a hyped up Dark Souls character. The symptom is euphoria is somehow...um..Illustrated by the word "See" being repeated on some guy's John Lennon glasses. I...I don't know, folks. I don't know. What are we supposed to see? Besides the word "See"? Is there meaning to this? There isn't, is there?

He lists off Psychosis and Hyper sexuality fairly rapidly, as Noelani continues to master this act of "Hoo-man" sitting, and we get some seriously up close and personal time with Akira Red haired lady's....uh.....ladies.

Red lady has a fuck me face that looks like she's about to go all SJW up in your bisniss, but hey, that her mouth is open in this panel shows nearly 100 improvements over the average scale of the art. Of course the security guard goes for it. Do you SEE that woman? It's like a Porn star in a medical themed porno accidentally wound up in the wrong office on Fly Friday. Like she is impossibly hot. There's just no way he doesn't...oh wait hey. His glasses are round too. Is this the fabled "SEE" we were meant to understand earlier? So Martin winds up the early symptoms with that, and Noelani simplifies it into "So I'd be a sex-crazed super hero??" Good job, Noelani, and no, because I'm not convinced you can move your arms. Anyway, Akira Redhead hyper up his sexual, and apparently that is the BEST way of spreading Fly Flu, because that security guard is swinging off pipes and babbling and throwing 14 foot tables at Martin overhand while she's still looking for a Kleenex to wipe herself off. He announces that he is here to go Martin hunting with the best line of the issue:

I actually think these are my favorite panels in the whole comic. This guy is all over! It's like that Lonely Island sketch of the guy being on drugs. "I'm on the ground, I'm up a tree, don't FUCKING TOUCH ME!!"

So he gets tazed, and they haul another loony off into the Fly Flu gen pop. This is another perfect example of them pulling WAY out and into silhouette because it spares them from kneeing to do faces. This happens CONSTANTLY when fighting happens. It reminds me so much of how anime characters will turn their back on a shot just so the animators don't have to animate mouth flaps and the actor can just do one take. So, gassed, zapped, that's what you get for not using condoms on a redhead, Lennon glasses! Gingers take your soul! Suck it right out your pee hole. They don't even mean to, it's just...science. Filling a vacuum. Oh, and also don't fuck people in Quarantine. (But particularly the redheads.)

We get another Skype call between Martin and his wife, and then..Well, this happens:

Back to the total facial disconnect between sex toy and "character" expressions. Her cold, dead face does not BEGIN to hit on the little quip about buying that.....that thing at the grocery store....(No wonder he broke the chain, she's buying 50 Shades of Gray branded stuff). That thing..I don't even know where it begins, or ends, or what goes where. It looks like a meat hook. I happen to have the same kind of sex organ she intends to use that thing on, and I could not, for the life of me, figure out where she's putting it, and how. Then, his face. I would think something that misshapen and out there would have cracked even just a little interest in how she even intends to use it...but no. That face. Ladies. If you ever decide to get freaky Deaky and your man is making that face..Stop. You're embarrassing yourself. That is not the face of a man with wood. That is a man trying to remember if he set the DVR. I found myself cracking up again at the onomantapia BZZZZZZ sound effect by his head. Not knowing if that was the sex toy, his doorbell, or him drifting off to sleep with his eyes open. It's possible in this comic; they may have just denied him eyelids in this one.

I'm posting both pages now, but will be breaking them down nearly panel for panel.

Starting with the Hoo-man known as Noelani attempting to kiss Eric Stoltz, ignoring my warning about gingers. What the fuck. Not the kiss, but what the fuck is happening with her arms? Is that a volociraptor? Is she making tiny dinosaur arms, or perhaps baby DRAGON arms? Like there's no one here that didn't notice she's sick, right? Still. Eric "lashes" out, boringly, because Martin, shoving her back and his wedding ring in her face. They focus on that hand and ring so hard I expected it to have a sound effect, like something out of Scott Pilgrim, or the Bat Credit Card from Batman & Robin. Ka-SHICK Twinkle! Marrrrrrried biiiitches! Anyway, Martin realizes she's ill in a comic panel so disconnected from its own script that it felt like I was having some kind of psychotic break watching it. "Oh...oh no, Noelani. You're sick." Like.....Martin couldn't care less about this. I can't decide if he's droning, or just waiting for them to cut away so he can have emotion in his voice. Noelani denies being ill by demonstrating symptoms 4 & 5. Girl ain't doing so hot there with the warning.

Also, an aside here that really was bothering me at this point.

These are...SCIENTIST. Noelani is a P.A, that's almost an M.D. Martin graduated at 5. I don't know about EVERYONE at the facility, but I think everyone that would have been in there for the Great Fruit Flying Dragon Baby Bartok incident had at least a passing love for home and the sciences...and NONE OF THEM REPORT THESE SYMPTOMS? Like they are all coming down with a terrible case of Arthropod, and this doesn't...you know, warrant a discussion. This part of the comic almost makes me as crazy as the disconnect between faces and intent. Anyway!

Noelani gets pissy he doesn't want to mate with her and make sweet, sweet larvae, so she bows up and gets threatening in one of the most...animal, movie monster, hunchback ways possible. Like "HULK HORNY!"

She charges at him full force, arms STILL tucked behind her (Like really, someone teach this artist how to arm), and is electrocuted. While I take a moment to blink and count ribs, I also note she apparently has no internal organs? I dunno, this whole scene was...kinda odd. And for this comic, I mean..Damn. Damn.

This insanity with Noelani likely would have been my conclusion tonight, had I not really, and really needed to get this next two out in the open. Martin again calls his wife, and then...:

While treated to 4 shots of the same face...the exact same face...but then...it starts to leak. This is NOT crying. This isn't anywhere near a tear duct, tears...do not creep together into a viscous dribble down the cheeks. This is the moment...this is when I understood. Finally. Somewhere, the artist has said these words "Ah, yes, the crying. This is when a Hoo-man releases excess eye lubricant to relieve a buildup of stress hormones! “And then looked in the mirror at his Snarfgblat face and attempted to do it. It all starts to come together! And with only....oh oh god 3 more issues to go. OH GOD.
Current Mood: exhaustedexhausted

My review of Marvel comics "The Fly: Outbreak" Aug. 21st, 2016 @ 07:10 am
2005. 2005 was the last year when something got under my skin so deeply that I had the urge, no,...the NEED to write a full review of it. My original review of the film Cabin Fever http://readnofurther.livejournal.com/12072.html

I don't know if this will be that long. I don't know if this will be as impassioned. You see, http://www.readcomics.tv/the-fly-outbreak/chapter-1 has stolen my ability to emote. It has taken from me all love, and hate, and need. Anything that could make my impossibly smooth, clay like face crinkle in the slightest. Allow me to explain.

It was a dark morning, that morning of August 20th, 2016. I had broken a tooth and desperately needed something to distract myself. I went hunting, nay, trolling through my favorite website for reading comic scans...then I saw it. The academy award winning horror movie "The Fly" with Jeff Goldblum was one of the very few films that ever robbed me of sleep consistently as a child. Body horror does that to me, this may have been the start. Just the COMMERCIALS for the sequel, The Fly: 2, using a nursery rhyme and starring Eric Stoltz before Hollywood figured out that gingers have no soul? Just the commercials gave me nightmares.

I lamented to a friend I likely shouldn't read this. I was afraid it would keep me up at night...and it has...oh. It has. Let us begin:

This is the first page of the first in a 5 issue miniseries. Note the faces. Lovely, yes? Great portrait work (More on that later). My first alarm bells didn't quite start to sing just yet, bit they were starting to blink. Why were they the same faces in both panels? Why was the light source so uneven and directionless? Who was this mad flashlight wielding midget? For surely, it is not the light from the pods, since that is, in fact, green. But see...the faces, the perfect, smooth faces, they are lit from two different directions. Does each have it's own dramatic lighting midget? Are they dressed like their masters? These two, only one recognizable at all, Eric Stoltz of The Fly II, discuss Martin Brundle (Eric Stoltz's clay dummy here) work, and his vasectomy. Which apparently talks in the voice of Jiminy Cricket. I wanna know if it's lips move. Was she working it like a hand puppet? Is that why the shot is so close?

Page 2, and they discover that Martin still can't science, but by God, while discussing NOT taking his wife to dinner for their anniversary, he certainly can make a face like a constipated amphibian. Soak this in, folks, it's the most emotion he shows for 5 whole, blood soaked comics. Really...savor the frog face. Because we're moving on to ball gags.

This will be the last consecutive page for a while, I just want you to understand how blindsided I was by this ballgag. Nothing in any of the movies prepped me for this. Nothing happening on any of the "characters" faces seem to be connected in any way to a ball gag. See her face? That's her face. Done. Done-doe. That's whatcha get. Anyway, he freaks out without managing a wrinkle, breaks a chain, and they don't do the sexing, because he's complaining about how he could possibly...infect her? I'm even confused at this point and I've seen both films up to now. In no way has this ever....ever been shown to be contagious. It is an accident of gene splicing. Semen....semen don't splice folks. I think this writer is somehow confusing insemination with gene sequencing and splicing, but if he is, holy God. Can you imagine what kind of terror that life would be? Seeing porn? "Dear GOD, monsters!"..Couple of dogs fucking in a bush somewhere? "DON'T JUST STAND THERE! SOMEONE STOP THEM, THEY'LL END US ALL! ALLLLL!" Just saying. He needs help. Someone arrange photos of this terrified artist hucking condoms at people and hiding in walls to a Sarah MacLachlan song, there's gotta be some out there. So anyway, yeah, no sex. Neither looks terrible upset by this prospect. Get used to it.

There's a big driving scene in the next part where Martin's experiment managed to uh...well, he did this in a scientific facility, in this year of our lord 2016

First, give that fucking side character the oscar for this comic, or whatever. The Eisner. That is it. That is THE emotion for the whole book, when he comes up on this...uh...pupae that the guy somehow managed to make and hatch from with absolutely no camera seeing it. I am sitting at home, in my private home, and count, currently.....four cameras. Four that anyone could see me through at almost any time. (Mrrrow!). In my living room. This is a TOP SECRET MUTANT TELEPORTATION SCIENCY PLACE! They should have...cameras on top of cameras inserted into cameras. They should have been able to tell you what was happening in Bartok-fly man's RECTUM. NO ONE saw this? And this guy, walking in, sits there saying nonononono, and doesn't think...locked room. No windows. Flies fly. He doesn't...look up? Is that how literally anything works? Anyway, Bartok digests him. Goodbye single emotional character. You were too good for this comic. Likely too hard to draw.

I'd like to take a moment now to give everyone a picture of a common housefly.
This is a common house fly. I found it by typing "Common housefly" into Google. I'll admit that Bing could have worked too, but I used Google. This is exactly what flew into Brundle's pod with him in the first movie. This is the genes his son Martin inherited, and in turn, passed off onto Bartok to cure himself at the end of the second movie, based on a hypothosis of his father, again from the first movie. To reiterate. Common house fly. This.

I stand now to say the artist in question has never seen said picture, because instead, we got a baby Dragon alien
This is not a fly/human hybrid. This is neither fly, nor human, and it sure the heck loves to show off it's junk. Like the picture anyway? Good, it's the only one he drew of the hybrids from the front.

Bartok escapes. They attempt to lock down the facility, but of course, Martin can't sleep at night without fucking everything up, so he tells his people to lock the door behind him, and promptly lets the baby dragon alien in with them. (I have no idea where the actual fly human hybrid is at this point). He then sprays it with a fire extinquisher. I don't know why. I don't know if he knows why. Maybe baby dragon aliens are sensitive to CO2, but regardless, this somehow makes it puke vivid green and red blood on eveeeeerything in a rad spatter effect you can tell the artist just loved finding on GIMP 2.

Like...what? Why? Why is it bleeding? He didn't even hit it with the thing, just....lightly spritzed it's groin. Oh God...oh God, is that not it's blood?

So anyway......Martin runs for it. He isn't done making this worse, he needs to find more people to lead the hybrid to. Then this happens:

Like smack dab into three armed security guards. I am not, in fact, sure what the last cop in the line is looking at. It certainly isn't down the sights of his gun. Has Martin's fly come unzipped? Is his vasectomy talking to this entranced security guard? Does it still sound like Jiminy Cricket? I'm not sure, but shooting happens. At first I think the fly is bulletproof, seeing as they didn't draw any of the bullets actually puncturing or leaving holes, but that would have required another drawing.It isn't bulletproof. It falls dead on TOP of Martin, who looks like some kind of Pollock when he stands back up..and says the most amazing line of this whole first book:

"Not again"!?!?! AGAIN? This has happened BEFORE? So many times in fact that he's stopped having outward emotional expression of his feelings? Again!? This just floors me. That is something one says when you realize they just scraped the cheese of yesterdays lunch pizza and threw eggs and gravy on it for breakfast. This is something one says perhaps when getting pulled over for speeding, or when your toddler spills juice in the van.
This is not, and has never been, the proper emotional response to being attacked, chased, and pinned under the spasming dead body of a baby dragon alien. "Not again" They did at least draw eyelids on his profile pic this time so he could close his eyes. It was about now that, while lamenting the "artist"s skills with portraits and nothing else, to the point of cutting away to black each time a character must show emotion, that my husband pointed out to me he couldn't even draw the faces. They're rotoscoped. Essentially, he hit "Pencil sketch" on a REAL picture of the actors he wanted, and kinda scribbled over them. He literally only has those faces to work with. God...help us.

This particular issue ends off with a quarantine and cleanse procedure fairly similar to anyone that's ever seen Monsters Inc, and everyone that was in the splash zone when Martin tried to put out the now dead newborn baby dragon alien are moved to a typhoid island. I don't know where, I'm not even sure what planet we're on anymore. I've read 21 pages and seen seven faces and one dragon. I'm not sure of anything anymore. I can tell you that the "Gas masks" everyone is wearing not only DON'T look like gas masks, but they are terrifying and obviously meant to likely hide baby dragons. That's for later, though, and my next review of issue two. In the meantime, enjoy watching our "hero" finish his metamorphosis into a frog..

I thought we were supposed to be scared of flies. See you tomorrow!
Current Mood: cynicalcynical
Other entries
» Deviant art Gallery and new FNaF Imger album
Well..it's been a while, hasn't it! But...anyway...here's a bit of fun I've been at.



<a href="http://failblog.org/2009/11/29/kids-club-promotion-fail/"><img src="http://failblog.wordpress.com/files/2009/11/epic-fail-g-spot-fail.jpg" alt="epic fail pictures" title="epic-fail-g-spot-fail" class="mine_2847599616" /></a><br />see more <a href="http://failblog.org">Epic Fails</a>
» Devious Journal Entry

Illustration for show
by ~Hamato-Michelangelo on deviantART "And yet to me, so much"

I know it seems simple and even silly, but this is the t-shirt design I did for our upcoming show. The important thing about that is....I finally knocked down the "Jessica doesn't ink" wall. I had to decide if I was actually good enough to be doing illustrations for the school's posters and shirts, then I damn well better prove it. Finally stepped up to the inking plate, and this is the result.
» If anyone was curious...the back of a set

» That 23 hour set.
The handpainted backdrop for the windowCollapse )
Keep in mind, I built this from the ground up and painted it in a little under 24 hours spread over two days.
That kid hanging out there is the ever adorable Clint. He's going to be my assistant the coming year. Not much in the skill department, but he makes up for it in always making me smile. XD

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