BFPG006 Master Chump.

This week is slightly different than just guest pages. This is basically a crossover with Center Lane. Back when I started doing this crossovers were all the rage. Most creators had the attention spans of six year olds, so they bounced from fad to fad like monkeys on crack. Since most of them were gag a day, if we’re being kind, it hardly mattered if they spent ages crossing over with whoever they friended on the webcomics forums. I never did any of that because my comic adheres to the rules of reality, in so far as any work of fiction can. No magic, no super intelligent robot comic relief, NO FUN! This stopped a lot of crossover potential. Not that people were banging down the gates to get into my sandbox. When I got the script for this pitch I was in a unique postion of having something that fit with the overall theme of my work, and being desperate for content. Which is not to say I would have turned down the idea out of hand, but rather that circumstances aligned in such a way that I was willing to try something that I would have drug my feet over otherwise. I think that many of you will enjoy reading Center Lane if you give it a try.
The lead character is an arrogant little shit, and I think many of you can identify with him, or identify someone like him. Much like Thomas he’s maybe not as smart as he thinks he is, and got a double helping of arrogance at the buffet of personality. His dialogue sounds so much like people I hung out with in school I could imagine him being someone I grew up with and forgot about.
This little scene takes place in the times before color, which is appropriate, and as far as I know serves as a little prequel for Center Lane. Or at least references things from the first arc of that work.
The artist is @therafalee on twitter and he very kindly put this as a priority to help me out. The writer is @izumi_ryu and he was the mastermind and driving force behind the crossover. I was in no fit state to offer much help by way of scripting, so my contribution was very limited. Other than some dialogue suggestions to help match my characters voices Chris did this all on his lonesome, which I appreciate. I was actually in the hospital on various medications while much of the groundwork was laid, which was probabl;y for the best because I would likely have tried to micromanage him into the dirt otherwise.
I’m in the debt of these two creators, as well as those who helped out last week. I hope you enjoy the content for the week. I’ll be back on next Monday, where the scene with Ed and Nina will continue where I left off. I very much appreciate your patience and support. You’ve all made this very stressful time a lot easier to cope with.

I’m basically stuck at home right now. My body isn’t capable of regulating its temperature properly right now, so if I get hot I instantly begin falling apart. I was only able to keep myself together by force of will the morning we picked up the c-pap machine. As the temperature rose I became less and less coherent. I was in line at Wal-Mart when my body began threatening me with the signs of passing out. Since then I’ve only been able to travel short distances in vehicles with functioning air conditioning. Once I’m out of the cool I have minutes to accomplish any goal before my body begins rebelling against me. The blood vessels in my leg aren’t healed enough yet to keep blood flowing back up to my body so the longer I’m on it the more swollen it becomes. Even wrapped I’m on a pretty short timer. The other side of that is that as soon as I lift the leg higher than my torso the fluid rushes back down and the swelling abates quickly. I’m trying to keep it elevated as much as possible so that the tissue can heal. It’s been much harder than the first time because the damage is more extensive this time, so I’m not healing nearly as fast.
The lack of rest caused by not being adapted to the breathing mask isn’t helping anything. My body seems to be protesting the whole affair by making me tired, but not sleepy. I’m wide awake but incapable of activity.
To top all of this off the Teen is still using my mother as a travel service, so I’m all alone for most of the day. Since I can’t go places for myself it’s very frustrating. She has badgered mom into letting her have a tattoo for her birthday. Normally mom would be against this for anyone under 18, but her irresponsible parents let her get drawn all over when she was much younger, so who fucking cares at this point really? No point crying over spilled ink. This has caused no end of inconvenience for everyone. Hopefully it’ll be done this evening and that will be an end of it, but I suspect the saga of the tattoo will draw itself out exponentially and continue causing strife. She’s actually banned from posting images of it online because we don’t want to deal with the bullshit social media will inevitably cause. This is frustrating for her because it robs her of the attention she so desperately desires.
I’m not altogether anti tattoo. What I dislike is lack of cohesion. Random images on a body that don’t go together annoy me on a very manic level. Also text. I can’t stand text on a person because I’m compelled to read it over and over. Eventually all I can thing of is peeling it off layer upon layer with a wood plane while playing “stuck in the middle with you” at a very high volume.
The tattoo issue has been a contributing factor in my perpetual bachelorhood. Less so than my terrible personality, poor grooming, and weight, but still. People assume that since I’m artsy I’m also into drawings on people, and liberal. And gay, if we’re being totally honest… But I’m a centrist conservative trapped in a creative man’s body. And every girl I have even the tiniest chemistry with just loves being a goddamn drawing pad. I’ve rarely seen a female body and thought “You know what your tits need? A Seattle Seahawks logo right between them. That’ll really bring the whole thing together for me.”
Which is not to say there aren’t exceptions to any of this. Some people actually manage to get amazing art that works. It’s just rare.

Fuck it. Whatever. I’m going to die alone and childless. This is the hand I was dealt, and the path I chose. Drawing weird pictures in a dark room until I die. It was either that or tongue kiss the loud end of a shotgun.

Man, this went to a dark place. Let’s roll it on back to someplace a little more hopeful. The go fund me link is HERE It’s a little over halfway to the goal, which is insane. I can’t thank you guys enough. I really hope I can make it up to you all someday. The Patreon, as always, is Nina on the sidebar. The total is also insane, and I hope I can use whatever money you give me after the bills are paid to improve the comic. Anyone who has successfully pledged at least once csan go ahead and request a sketch or an avatar image. Please email me at betweenfailures(at)Hotmail(dot)com with references and make the subject Patreon Avatar/Sketch. I’m well enough to start working on those when I can. Please be patient since I tire out much faster than normal. I will eventually get to everyone. As far as the other pledges go I’ll have to sort that out later because I’ve got a lot I’m trying to handle already and big stuff like that is beyond my capability right now. I WILL get to you all though.

Thanks again, and I’ll see you in the comments and whatnot.


I understand the dislike of tattoos, most women I meet who have them either a) regret them or b) have something so horrible that it makes you question your sanity as of you’re starting into the abyss yet the woman loves the horror inscribed into their flesh. I think I’ve met one woman with a tattoo that was actually artistic and on a place that they could show people. And chin up, you may think you might die alone, but you may be surprised what the future may bring. I always like to say “everyone is crazy, the hard part is finding the right kind of crazy for you.”

I however would not recommend getting romantically involved with a shotgun. They are horrible kissers and never call you back.

A while ago, I got seriously into lamp-working glass beads. I played with all sorts of different designs and effects and color combinations. And I made some that I thought were … rather ugly. But I put them all in a divided box to show people. And without exception, every single bead had _someone_ pick it up and say, “Oh, I _really_ like this one!”

Why yes, yes I have known snots like that self-important idiot/antagonist/jock. Hey, I worked Retail for four years, Security for twelve and IT for twenty-five. They’re always around.

“Eventually all I can think of is peeling it off layer upon layer with a wood plane while playing “Stuck in the Middle with You” at a very high volume.”

Mind if I pass this along to Gerry Rafferty’s daughter Martha? B{P} Yeah, nobody in my family ever had a tattoo. I still find them mildly repugnant for some reason. I only went out with two women who had any ‘body art’, and they both had tiny bouquets of flowers in — ah — discreet places. I understand tattoos can be removed with lasers. I do have access to a 30 megawatt green laser, if you need it…

As much as I try to branch out when it comes to literature, I was actually surprised to find that the Halo novels were actually quite nice. Brand expansion does have its rare examples of success, just by the laws of probability, I guess. Tattoos, on the other hand, I find to have a pretty consistent record of “hit-miss-or-miss”. Pretty lines and sweet words loose their magic quick enough on paper, and etching it to skin rarely solves that issue. However, I dare say that, with the right metaphorical and physical light, anything can be seen by for its better qualities, no matter the situation. Take that as you will.

My father told me some good advice during a…harsher portion of his life. He said to me, “Son, a good hour makes a good day. A good day makes the week, the week the month, and the month the year. The good years make the good life, and a good life is what I intend to have. If pain is to accompany me, may I greet him as I would any other of my companions in life; with respect and good humor. For if I am to gain reward, may I also reap my sorrows, as I choose to live as naught but the man I choose to be. If I be judged, and be punished in consequence, I do so with the knowledge that I have responded to life as I saw fit.”

I remember picking up this comic about a year ago. I was in the middle of an American Survey class, and I was looking for something humorous to pass away the hour amongst the dronings of my teacher. I reached the then “current” comic a day later, my mind awash with amusement, anticipation, and, dare I say, empathy. Your work has done something that I feel is very much overlooked by the world today: How to find the good moments in the span of the day.

Thank you for your work, and if you will take a simple gesture, I wish you good moments, wherever you might find them.

Not necessarily childless as there donor clinics. You just won’t meet your kids.

I’m not terribly fond of fad tattoos (tramp stamps, random Japanese/Chinese word, culturally-appropriated tribal face tattoos, etc) and words are a bit iffy. Random names or words are just tacky. If it’s a passage from something or a significant quote done well, I’ve no problem with it.

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