A Call for Help, DCC Get Together, This Thing in My Apartment and Swallowing Quarters

"Damn Fine Comics Work." - Brian Michael Bendis

"Elk's Run represents what we need more of in comics today, new ideas, great writing and art that pulls you in." - Steve Niles

Warren Ellis says.

We’ve displayed similar quotes from Stuart Moore, Phil Hester and B. Clay Moore in the past, as well. And the reason I’m bring this up is because our orders numbers were well below what we expected. Due to some wheeling and dealing and an intent to hustle the books, Chris Arundle has agreed to print through issue 4 of Elk’s Run with no guarantee we’ll make it to 8. And here’s where you come in. Tell your shop about the book; tell them to take a chance on it (Order #FEB052900). If you are one of the 500 people that have received promo copies, give them to a friends and if your friends like them have them request an issue from their shop. Look for us in LA and purchase some books. Or, buy some books from our store (they make great presents). If you like the book and you like what we’re doing, we’re asking for a little extra support. Not begging, mind you, but asking nicely. We appreciate the support you’ve given us so far. Thanks for hearing me out.

Also, DC Conspiracy had our first get together yesterday and we got drunk so fast we forgot to take pictures until people were leaving. We have three. You can see them here (I'm the guy in the first picture with the Cubano shirt). And finally, I got this thing living in my house now that Robin says is a dog. What do you think?

Today is my sister’s birthday, she turns 16. We got a special kind of relationship, the 11 year difference in age (combined with her being my only sibling) puts me into a hybrid brother/father/friend mode. And out of that came my unusual enthusiasm to help out with Elizabeth, and when you’re younger, helping out means babysitting.

I watched Elizabeth quite a bit, especially in the summers. I was always the corrupter, teaching her funny phrases, play fighting…stuff like that. I still take that roll with my younger cousins. All my cousins love to hang with me but their parents hate it when they hang with me.

Well, at one point I was trying out magic, every kid comes to that moment where they thing it’s a really good idea to get a magic kit. I don’t even know what tricks I learned, but they all sucked. Either way, one day I was trying the tricks out on Elizabeth, she was probably about two years old, and I was bombing. She couldn’t care less about what I was seemingly pulling out thin air or what card she had and how I found it in the deck. I was getting nervous, so I decided to pull out a “trick” that I thought she would seriously enjoy.

For some fucked up reason, I thought she would be fascinated if I threw a quarter up in the air and made it “disappear” by catching it with my mouth. Even if I pulled this trick off it would have been the lamest trick ever. If I pulled it off.

If I didn’t get the quarter lodged in my throat.

So now here I am, choking on a quarter, freaking out. It truly would have been the worst way to die. I don’t know what to do, I remember some video where this guy is doing the self-Heimlich, pushing up against a table edge. I run to the table and try it out, not working (being a wuss, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t jamming the table hard enough).

Now, here I am, running around the apartment freaking out like a chicken without a head. Elizabeth can’t stop laughing. She doesn’t know her brother is dying and to her, I’m doing something more entertaining than turning a magic wand into a bouquet of flowers. SO not only am I running around, freaking out because I’m dying, but I have my sister chasing me and laughing.

And then, jut like that, I swallow it. The quarter must have pivoted just enough or something but it went down hard, hurt all the way, but it was down. I was relieved, to say the least, and I pretty much swore off magic, as if magic was the reason I got a quarter lodged in my throat. I should have sworn off stupidity, instead.

My parents came home and I told them the story. My father told me to make sure I shit it out or else my appendix would burst, I told him I would let him know. There was no way I was going to thumb through my shit everyday, however, so I just took my chances. Can’t say I remember it coming out, but 14 years later and my appendix didn’t rupture so I’m doing OK.

Happy Birthday, Bits.

read a book, fanboy: Elk’s Run - I had to do it, I fully realize putting a comic in the "read a book, fanboy" section defies all logic. Sorry. Now buy the book, fanboy.

Labels: mitc

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