This comment gets a chubby and 30 minutes in The Kayak.

You sure do post here a lot, for someone who's so against it.

Sounds rewarding. I hope a squirrel stabs you at a party you assume you are invited to.

Sortelli u think jus tlike me we r so aovbe thsese stupid sheeple and thieyre controlling system of good s and lames hifive from me bro and keep on fighting the sheeple hive brain yo \m/\m/\m/

I believe sortelli's angle is performance art, like gladi8orrex. Everybody wants their fifteen minutes, but not everybody wants to slave over a hot computer monitor all day to get it. It is the new blight of our age, a gift from his Boomer parents who told him he was the most special kid in the world.

Guys, guys, my lame allotment is deep enough for the both of you!

Cthulu raped my grandmother you skullfuck!

My entire family was killed by being a dick to a stranger, you filbert!

Two of my assetbar acquqaintances died of tentacle-related injuries after misspelling "Cthulhu".

You implication that just because I Japanese I like watch tentacle rape activity very racist and bad.

contrasoma's wife is in a tentacle-related coma.

I'm German and hella turned-on right now.

spacedaddy, there is not easy way to put this, so I'm just gonna lay it out there.


Will you be the worst man at my wedding?

Spacedaddy makes a Brass Eye reference and gets lamed; O'Hanraha-Hanrahan and echidnaboy do the same and are lauded. The Assetfolks need to discover Chris Morris, pronto.

Okay, so now we all have to watch Brass Eye to understand what the flock you're talking about? Can't anyone write anything original from their own thoughts? Must we rely on parrot-like renderings? The ability to memorize stupid lines from obscure shows is NOT going to help you have children.

I saw somebody say that EXACT thing on a show once. Or maybe it was Questionable Content or something. That sounds like something from that godawful strip.

I finally looked up Questionable Content today. As expected it was a black hole of laughter where the living envy the dead.

I posit an inverse relationship between the obscurity and frequency of quotes to the companionship of winsome and fertile members of the opposite sex, yes.

UNNNH! UNNGH! UNNNHHHH! *pulls condom off* WE ARE THE NIGHTS WHO SAY NII!!!

Yes, see Mount Rushmore come to life in "Stoneface Killers"!!

Superman sorta already went there:

My cousin died of catastrophic bowel collapse after an overdose of Helpolax. Onstad, your strips are usually funny but this time you have gone TOO FAR. How DARE you.

We are happy to laugh week in and week out at Rays alcoholism and Beefs depression. These are also serious issues that affect a great number of people.

So I dont think we should judge what is on or off limits for comedy based on personal circumstance.
Everything should be fair game.

On another note; I Am truly sory for both your losses and mean no offence by this comment.

Look like you mean it! Look down at the ground and say "sorry".

Next time you cross the road, don't bother looking.

I don't see what's so funny about Implosive Bowel Syndrome, you insensitive prick

My cousin choked to death on a wedding invitation sent by a cartoon cat. This strip is crossing far too many lines.

Chris Onstad straight up murdered me. Like, yesterday.

Enjoy your new career as Batman.

We ALL had a friend. Mine shot herself. It's still funny, you dreary, sanctimonious, attention-seeking ME-griever.

I agree. It's all a matter of relativity though. The Coen brothers' dried piss on a public toilet seat is Bill Fuckin' Faulkner compared to "_______* Movie"


*insert "Scary," "Date," "Epic," or any of that other excrement.

My uncle suffocated on gas and drowned in the bath, one of my friends hanged himself and one of the nicest, most decent human beings I ever met died of a heroin overdose a month before he was to get married. It's a horrible world. Just staying topside and with most of your strange cares under control should get you some sort of medal.

One young kiddie on Cake cried all the water out of his body. Just imagine how his mother felt. It's a fucking disgrace.

She got so mad that blood came out of her mouth and tear ducts! The doctors had to send her to be killed.

... Some got on the mayor, i hear.

You're working some rough chuckles these days.

[[The third comment is always the lame magnet. I wish I'd shut up already.]]

I want a drug called Hopeugrin, I think that's something we can all agree on.

I want a drug called Fuxufriday.

I think that somewhere would be Japan.

I'm fairly convinced that in the case of people who do have certain chemical imbalances, antidepressants do help, as in your case. The problem isn't with the drugs, but with the diagnostic process. There have been a few times in my life where I thought I was desperately in need of antidepressants for one reason or another, and went to a psychiatrist to talk about it. Every time this happened: The doctor asks me to basically tell him what I think is wrong and listens for maybe 5 or 10 minutes max, then gives me a one-page questionnaire with the most obvious leading questions ever, then looks at my answers and proclaims 'yep, you have it' and gives me a prescription along with a generous quantity of free samples and maybe a general recommendation for therapy. Basically the level of trust placed in the patient to self-diagnose is ridiculous, and it amounts to me coming in and saying "give me some Aderall, thanks."

Maybe therapy is more helpful, but from my somewhat extensive experience the problem is similar. Psychoanalysis is out of fashion and most therapists I've gone to were of the laid-back 'help you help yourself' approach. And each time I felt that they were unable to offer me anything that my own constant analyzing of myself hadn't already revealed, since the sessions mostly consisted of me telling them what I think is wrong and them nodding. What's the point of paying for that? What I needed was someone whose analytical skills surpassed my own and who could objectively analyze me and my behavior in a way that I couldn't, and who could take the lead and structure the questions in such a way that would conceal their intent and not allow me to self-sabotage the session by substituting my own analysis or what I think I should say in order to get the best results. But I never found that and in the meantime the drugs either didn't help or helped in ways that weren't immediately clear.

In conclusion, GODDAMMIT WHAT AM I GONNA DO ABOUT MY PROBLEMS?

Oh sweet fuck, I hate mother FUCKING folk psychology and medication debate. Why? Because I have AD(H)D. And more importantly, BECAUSE IT ALL COMES DOWN TO SEMANTICS.

Yes, it is just a personality type, I agree. But at what point is something considered a "mental illness"?

As Dr. Christopher Green once said, "It's only ever a problem, when it's a problem." I've primarily studied about AD(H)D, so that's what I'm going to be ranting about.

Now, of course AD(H)D is not a new thing - it's in every culture throughout history, with some arguably more than others. Yes, it certainly is a personality type - but the problem is, the majority of the rest of the damned world ain't got it, and have built society around people not built like me.

So, while it shouldn't be considered really a "disorder", as it's truly the way the good Lord made ye, fitting into the world is real hard. This has its pros and its cons - the pros are that you think outside of the box, see things differently, have a lot of energy, and are obsessive about the shit you like (of course, the symptoms of AD(H)D can be highly different depending on the individual, so it really really depends). Cons - actually getting stuff finished is like moving a fucking mountain, easily distracted (read: me, right now), miss important stuff, disorganised. Thus leading onto a lot of extreme failure or extreme success, thus leading easily onto other mental issues: heavy-ass depression, bi-polar tendancies, lack of a social network because nobody can keep up, whatever.

So while alot of the great movers and shakers of history have most likely had AD(H)D, 100-fold more AD(H)D-type people have crashed and burned, ended up in prison, done little with their lives, gone insane, whatever. But then again, a lot just figure it out eventually.


The main problem with misdiagnosis is because they need to re-define what is actually is: currently, for AD(H)D there's like 40-odd symptoms, and if you have around 15 of them, you've got it. So, my AD(H)D and someone else's might be completely different.


As for medication - everybody bitches and moans about it. Currently, I'm on Dexamphetamine after being on Ritalin until my late teens, and then years without anything - but lately, I just wasn't coping and was spiralling into a dark and nigh-suicidal depression as a result, and needed some help. It's not the be-all and end-all, not a wonder-drug, and it's not going to fix all my problems - that's for me to do, but it's just helping me. Eventually, the aim is to organise your brain enough to be able to handle your life without the meds. And God-willin' and the creek don't rise, I will.


All that I said could most likely be applied to the majority of mental issues you mentioned. Asperger's particularly, as it is also on the Autism spectrum, which AD(H)D arguably is - I can totally relate to Autistic people, as well as "normal" people. It's that detachment from reality and society, which I've got a little bit, probably more than other people, but thankfully only enough to be different while still being able to function in society. It's really only something that affects my own life, and not anybody else's (except my wife, who somehow thinks it's all cute, bless her).

And don't get me wrong - I'm glad I'm the way I am. I'm awesome. If I wasn't me, I'd wish I was.
It's just a bit difficult at times - same as for everybody, I know, we all got our shit, just mine can be a bit....amplified. I tend to live in extremes, with tendencies toward Bi-Polar without it being too much of an issue.


Bah, I bet none of that made sense - I'm in a rambling, stream-of-consciousness kind of mood. Hope you had fun with me.

I died from an overdose of Hopeugrin, but I'm not bitter.

I DO

My best friend died when she put her drum machine together incorrectly, and the crossed wired caused sparks that burnt her house down. But catgrl! Why did she not just use the manual!? you wail. Philippe was standing on it.

Where is the grave? Philippe is standing on it.

(you might have to 'open in new window' to get the last panel)

I don't have a problem dancing. Other people do. According to onlookers it's like "an epileptic vomiting and being shot, simultaneously, but with karate".

Fuck you bitches, I'm beautiful

Does flaximax sound to anyone else like something you'd take to cancel out the effects of viagra?

I very insensitively call them "The Britith."

how do you know?

'e hasn't got shit all over 'im....

Yes.

"Blister in the Sun" and "Farmer in the Dell" always make me cry.

Put the Lime in the Coconut

People are angry because Rick Astley allows his voice to misrepresent his physical features (i.e. he looks like the whiniest, most cowardly member of the Dead Poets Society, but sounds like a large black man from Detroit)