Tough Like Baur
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
It was so weird not posting anything yesterday.
I had a fun idea for today but didn’t have the time to finish it up – work’s been piling up, World’s End is full steam ahead an I needed to get my column for this Thursday’s The Hive to Guy – I really like this one, I think it’s going to help a lot of small press guys. It’s juicy.
Anyway, since I don’t have the story I wanted to tell – a tale of Latin love at the construction site – I guess I’ll tell you all about this little experiment I carried out.
I’ve been doing the diet/exercise this for the new year – lost 12 pounds so far and feeling pretty good. Super Bowl comes along, though, and I must have eaten five pounds of food. Pizza, sopressata, various cheeses, lard bread, chips - washed it all down with well over twelve Heinekens – it was a pretty busy night for the ‘ole gastrointestinal system.
Anyway, Monday morning I wake up and get some shit done. I realize I’m running late and should get to work – don’t have time for a big breakfast – so I go to pour myself a bowl of cereal. No milk. So I say to myself, “Fuck it – I’ll just have a late lunch.”
Busy at work – fucking slammed. I finish up my shit at around 8PM and then I need to go grocery shopping. I get home at 8:30, Josh calls me, and we spend about forty minutes talking up World’s End. I watch 24. Robin comes home, asks me if I ate dinner yet and I realize that not only did I not eat dinner – I haven’t eaten in almost 24 hours.
24. Fucking. Hours.
And suddenly I realized how Jack Baur feels at the end of the day. You know, minus gunshot wounds and endangering the lives of everyone who comes within several feet of me.
Speaking of 24 – as some of you know when I’m not editing comics I’m working on chem/bio/nuke defense. I can combat diseases you didn’t even know existed. I know a couple of things about VX and I’ll tell you straight up – they’re really not doing a good job this season on the WMD realism. If these shmoes ever got hold of VX I’d let them do whatever the hell they wanted with it, chances are they’d only end up injuring themselves. Unless the plot introduces a helicopter and LA actually develops a weather system capable of blowing some wind the only guys dying in this attack is the terrorists.
I had a fun idea for today but didn’t have the time to finish it up – work’s been piling up, World’s End is full steam ahead an I needed to get my column for this Thursday’s The Hive to Guy – I really like this one, I think it’s going to help a lot of small press guys. It’s juicy.
Anyway, since I don’t have the story I wanted to tell – a tale of Latin love at the construction site – I guess I’ll tell you all about this little experiment I carried out.
I’ve been doing the diet/exercise this for the new year – lost 12 pounds so far and feeling pretty good. Super Bowl comes along, though, and I must have eaten five pounds of food. Pizza, sopressata, various cheeses, lard bread, chips - washed it all down with well over twelve Heinekens – it was a pretty busy night for the ‘ole gastrointestinal system.
Anyway, Monday morning I wake up and get some shit done. I realize I’m running late and should get to work – don’t have time for a big breakfast – so I go to pour myself a bowl of cereal. No milk. So I say to myself, “Fuck it – I’ll just have a late lunch.”
Busy at work – fucking slammed. I finish up my shit at around 8PM and then I need to go grocery shopping. I get home at 8:30, Josh calls me, and we spend about forty minutes talking up World’s End. I watch 24. Robin comes home, asks me if I ate dinner yet and I realize that not only did I not eat dinner – I haven’t eaten in almost 24 hours.
24. Fucking. Hours.
And suddenly I realized how Jack Baur feels at the end of the day. You know, minus gunshot wounds and endangering the lives of everyone who comes within several feet of me.
Speaking of 24 – as some of you know when I’m not editing comics I’m working on chem/bio/nuke defense. I can combat diseases you didn’t even know existed. I know a couple of things about VX and I’ll tell you straight up – they’re really not doing a good job this season on the WMD realism. If these shmoes ever got hold of VX I’d let them do whatever the hell they wanted with it, chances are they’d only end up injuring themselves. Unless the plot introduces a helicopter and LA actually develops a weather system capable of blowing some wind the only guys dying in this attack is the terrorists.
posted by Jason at
1:41 AM
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jason rodriguez is an eisner and harvey-nominated editor and writer. email him. or become his digital BFF below:
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