Comic Submission 818 – Mr. Gee
Debs: Every 100 comics (err…118 comics?), we ask readers to submit their own! Today’s is by our friend Steven Wesley Guiles, who also goes by Mr. Gee! We met him through February Album Writing Month, and he’s an amazing musician, and crazy nerdy too. He’s launching a new awesome Kickstarter in the New Year related to both music and nerdy-ness, which we’ll be talking about more in January! Also, if Errol has an idea like this and I actually agree, someone please stage an intervention. Please? 😀
Mr. Gee: I made this comic based on my knowledge of Errol’s obsession with all things Miyazaki…and Reddit. I figured Debs would be worn out just hearing him talk about this. Hence, the comic.
But Debs is we stage an intervention how will I get to hear a Ghibli rock opera?
I actually wrote a 7-minute rock operetta about plants once 😛 That was weird.
Yay!! My version with glasses made it! 🙂
Creating these characters took me an hour or two in Photoshop. Lots and lots of layers. Like ogres. Well, Errol can be the ogre…Debs is more like a sweet onion. 🙂
And A Ghibli Rock Opera WOULD be amazing…though, based on a minor character featured in only the storyboards of the DVD extras? Mmm….maybe not as much awesome there.
I’ll tie the sweet, sweet onion to my belt, which was the style at the time. I like how I’m all round and Errol’s all rectangular with round edges 🙂
Please. Make. One.
It would be hilarious!
The comics are awesome. Sorry I flaked on submitting.
In other news: I should never EVER be the one to call 911 (or whatever the international equivalents are) This was a chunk of the conversation.
Operator: Where are you?
Me: Um, where are we guys?
Insert the driver and other two passengers arguing about where the lot is located. Me trying to repeat all that.
Operator: What did the guy look like?
Me: Um… he had white or light blue shoes…. a dark shirt with a grey-scale design… um… guys? Help?
Operator: What Ethnicity was he?
Friend: He was Asian.
Me: My friend says he was Asian.
Operator: About how old?
Me: Um, about 19?
Mom: yeah, early twenties.
Insert others in the car agreeing early twenties.
Me: Yeah, early twenties or late teens.
Mom: Oh no, he was definitely at least twenty.
Never again make me be the one to call 911.
The nutshell of the rest of that story is 4 am, dark parking lot, heading home. Dad starts to pull out of the lot, my car door opens, while the car is moving, and some guy is staring down at me. Got the door closed, got the doors locked, pulled away from him, saw him staggering around, called 911 because he was either sick or too drunk to function, and needed an ambulance either way. They called me back. Twice. I have gotten pretty much no sleep. Dead eyes. Empty eyes. Shudder.