Workin' Out Loser Style

Losin' It #30!


The Platypus #3

Use as directed.

Losin' It #29

Beamer and Blog #2

Screamin' meany!

Losin' It #28

The Platypus #2

I'm not working on Saturday!

Losin' it # 27 In addition to the Platypus, I am going to have a new ongoing comic...for now...though I can be a little erratic in regard to my committment to specific strips and subject matter...I'm going to make a real effort to focus my comic powers in this productive direction...that's right...I'll do that...for sure. Wow, how refreshing and stuff. I'll continue posting the rest of the Losin' it strips as well as the ongoing posts of the Platypus and this new strip 'Beamer and Blog'. Cool beans.

Some bosses are really not that great...and some should be poisoned...

Obedience Training for Dummies

Losin' It #26

Tasha has been taking our Neopolitan Mastiff puppy, Argus to obedience training. He does however have some issues with other dogs.

Tales from the Playground

I’ve always considered myself to be the type of person who resolves things with reason and through communication, especially during the past sixteen years of my life since getting out of the Army. I do, however, feel that there is a place for fighting in society. I was thinking back to the first fight I can remember being in. I was in fifth grade and it was after soccer practice for the illustrious soccer powerhouse the Berney Bulldogs. There was this kid in school; I can’t even really remember his name other than I think his last name was Nelson. He was always kind of a bully and was picking on kids in the school yard that afternoon. I was on the play equipment and he shoved me off, not cool at all. I fell about four or five feet onto my back and enough was enough, I’d had it with him. I jumped up, ran up to where he was, and threw him off. I then jumped down, punched him a few times, and then held him down. The mean part that I feel was over the line, and a little humiliating, was that I held him down and let all of the kids that he had been picking on come over and slap him in the face. I went home and he showed up at my house a little latter, I still don’t know how he knew where I lived. He said that his dad said he had to come over and fight me again and beat me up. I felt really bad for him at that point. I told him that I wasn’t going to fight him again, and that for me it was over. I also told him that as far as I was concerned he could tell his dad he beat me up. After that he acted as though I was his best friend. I told him to quit picking on kids and he did. I don’t really remember him after that year; I think he moved away or something.

I know that when I was a kid there were a lot of outlets to settle scores with people and to get out natural aggression. There were fights after and during school, there were “smokers” or boxing matches where people could go to challenge each other and things were resolved, it was therapeutic. People usually felt better afterward and went out for drinks or something. I remember a fight I was in while in high school. I was sticking up for a female friend of mine and talking crap about her boyfriend who had been allegedly cheating on her. I was a sophomore, he was a senior, and I had been running my pie hole. After weeks of buzz around the school the issue had come to a head. He was waiting outside my English class and a whole lot of people were waiting there as well. I decided it was time for me to face the consequences of my alligator mouth and walked down to class. I was taking off my coat when he hit me (right now I am going to go on the record and say that I was going to lose that fight and get beat up regardless, I’m just saying having my arms caught in my coat didn’t help matters much). I was beat up pretty good, mostly because I kept getting back up and going after him. I learned a valuable lesson in life through that experience. To stay out of other peoples minor personal issues and keep my mouth shut. I didn’t have any hard feelings after that, I had it coming. That guy, Scott Rand, and I were pretty good friends for a period later in life.

What I am trying to say, I guess, is that I don’t think that I EVER heard about a mass shooting or anything like that back then. There weren’t huge school imposed penalties, like expulsion, and guys could have a fight and not go to prison. I’m not saying that bullies or people who fight a lot should run the world or push people around, but our society has gone so far the other way with its wimpification. The “teacher’s pets” rule the world. They can lie, connive, conspire against others, and kiss the boss's ass. They say anything they want without fear, because they know that their deceit will get them ahead in life. Most of them are lawyers, politicians, and CEOs making millions through the TARP funds and public bailouts. What have we done to society?

These guys need the hat trick of the wedgie, swirly, and the purple nurple.

Oh, the HORROR!

Losin' It #veinti cinco

I want to preface this entry by saying that I did not have a horrible childhood, it was alright. That being said there were some questionable ideas that were developed in the Hale household. This is a little story about one of them. First off, we did not live out in the middle of nowhere, in some remote location seldom frequented by civilized human beings. We lived just outside the city limits, and had a city water supply. We also had a well that was used strictly for irrigation so my parents water bill would stay low. In addition we did not live on some large farm or ranch. We had a house on a large city lot. One day, when I was about 12 or so, my father announced to the family that the well was running dry, but never fear, he had developed a plan to save the Hale household's water bill. He was going to send my brother and I down the well to start digging. To me this was not nearly as great a plan as I think he thought it was.

Now the well was approximately 40 feet deep or so and there wasn't a whole lot of elbow room around a kid when he was down it. My father's awesome idea was comprised of a large "A" shaped steel thingy-ma-bob that went from the ground and leaned at an angle against the house. On the big "A" there was mounted a hand crank winch with a cable. At the end of the cable was a wooden seat like a swing set seat. This was the contraption that lowered me down the well. As far as I know ther were no buried bodies, giant naked mole rats, or Creatures from the Black Lagoon, but those are the kind of things a kid thinks about when he is being lowered down a pitch black well. My equipment included a hard hat with a regular flashlight duct taped on top, A rain coat, and a tall pair of rubber boots. While I was down the well a plastic 5 gallon bucket was lowered with a shovel that had part of the handle sawed off because there just wasn't room for a regular legth shovel down the well. I spent hours digging and filling the bucket which was pulled up when full, bouncing off the sides of the well all the way up, knocking rocks back down on me. But I had my hard hat.

This went on for some time; it seemed like years, but was really just most of the summer. One day while my dad was at work my mom lowered me down the well and the winch came off the crank and I was stuck half way down the well. My mom ran and got some neighbors, it turned into a real "boy trapped in the well" situation. One of the neighbors was able to fix the winch and get me out. You might think that would be a moment to ponder an end to the children down the well situation; nope, I was down the well the next day. After a summer of digging we were allowed to stop, I don't feel like we made a whole lot of headway on the well, but hey, now I have an interesting story to tell.

Another old project

This was another strip I had started. The characters were based on people with whom I worked. I still work with two of them...and I won't reveal their identities...but have fun guessing. In some of the upcoming posts I am going to delve deep into my past and reveal some of the stories of my childhood, young adulthood, and various periods in betweenhood. They may make you laugh, cry, want to eat a piece of pie. The next post will be all about 'the boy in the well' I can't tell you any more than that right now...okay the boy was me, but that's all. Enjoy the guards for now.

Losin' It - In Technicolor!

Losin' It #24

The Archives

Losin' it #23



I've started quite a few comic strip ideas, only to abandon them later. It's not that I'm cold hearted or unfeeling. I still care about the abandonded strips, it was just the best thing for both of us. It may be hard for these cartoons to understand now, but I hope they will come to realize that it just wouldn't have worked out between us. I want nothing but the best for these lonely doodles so I'm posting some of them this time and next. Enjoy, I hope you'll be happy together.

I'm gonna do better with making more frequent postings...really!

Losin' It #22

No Reasonable Offer Refused!

Losin' It #21

Losin' It #20

I've decided to print my own currency and surprisingly it's worth the same as the Federal Reserve Notes of the Chinese owned United States of America. I was never a fan of George W.'s and I think he did most everything wrong, but I'm also not real happy that Barack has sold us to a foreign nation. I'm not going to learn the Chinese language, I hate the color red...so the whole communist thing won't work for me.

I had CPR training the other day, but I think I lost my patient...and I'm pretty sure I'm covered by the Good Samaritian act...so better luck next time I guess.

Pandemic!

Losin' It #19


I think we as the public, by way of the media, are addicted to pandemics, catastophes, and just all around scary news. We seem to be glued to the news during the latest and greatest world new news fright fest. It's usually never quite as bad, or exciting depending on how you look at it, as it's made out to be. That being said, I think I may have an idea how these various viruses mutate.

Introducing.....

Please leave in a calm orderly fashion

Losin' It #18

It's been a rough week at times. I did have a full evacuation one of the days. FIRE!! Run for your lives! This mamma jamma's gonna blow!

"No Parking"

Losin' It #17: I often have trouble finding parking spaces. At my work a lot of the parking is assigned to specific individuals or labeled as parking for carpools, official visitors, maintenance workers, handicapped drivers, and motorcycles. It leaves slim pickin's for the rest of us. One thing that is not labeled is the bicycle rack. It has no sign that states it is ony for bikes. I'm pretty sure I'm going to start parking there, though I will use a bike lock to ensure that no one steals my car...or tows it.

Ain't No Party Like a Whoop Whoop Dance Party!

Losin' It # 16


I'm not much for dancing, especially in public places, but if you're going to cut loose, the music store is the perfect place. Unlimited supply of music and plenty of space for trying out awesome new moves. I've notice in hindsight (after it was brought to my attention by Luna) that it lookes as though I am farting in panel number 3, but that's okay, somtimes that will happen in the music store, especially when you're dancing. In addition, I've just been told by Tashie that it looks like the bald man in the last panel is using the CD display rack as though it was a urinal; that is absolutely not the case. That would be totally inappropriate behavior, even at the music store...what am I thinking, especially at the music store...your attorney's office on the other hand is the perfect place...right on his desk...on his name plate and pen holder.

Tada!

Losin' It #15
I'm married now, and chocolate and peanutbutter is a wonderful flavor combination. I love Tashie and she is very, very funny and fun to be around, so this was a good decision. Plus she helps me with my blog so I have to keep her...and she's a good cook.

Tom the Tape Worm

Losin' It #14

Why a tapeworm? I don't know. Why not a tapeworm? I don't know that tapeworms aren't affected by the bad economy.

Let your Swine Flu Shine Through

The Birds

Losin' It #13

Birds have had a long standing disdain for humans and mammals in general. Bird attacks on humans have increased exponentially over the past decades. It is as though they have declared war upon us. It may be that they feel a superiority to humans because they possess the gift of flight, or that they feel that we have intruded upon their territory by creating our own mechanical means of soaring into the great blue yonder, but make no mistake, these devious feathered terrorists of the sky must be stopped. They have descovered that taking us out one at a time will not accomplish their goal of world domination as quickly as wiping us out one commercial jet liner at a time. With this goal in mind they have developed and fine tuned the attack of the "Bird Strike." It is no coincidence that bird strikes have been steadily increasing in frequency.

We have a secret weapon of our own in Captain C. B. "Sully" Sullenberger, that's right the hero of the miracle on the Hudson. This man has met the threat of a bird strike head on and won. He's not afraid of this winged menace. He laughs and makes room in his deep fryer when the battle is over. "Give 'em hell Sully! Go at 'em like you were Colonel Sanders on half-price chicken day!