Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Happy Birthday To Me.

I believe that I have the potential to make a killing on birthday cards.
The cover would look something like the above naked man with some conveniently placed cake.
Or a carnivorous cake devouring party guests.
On the inside it would say something like:
           I wish you all the open bars, and badcuss cars, in the entire world.
           May the tiger in the zoo, be named after you.

and other nonsense.

Anyway today is my birthday so I thought that I would share this birthday card with you.
And also this story.
First of all, at 23 the best that one can expect on their birthday is the right to wear the same shirt as you wore yesterday (which is pretty much my idea of a good time, and I am taking full advantage of it).
However, today already is in the running for worst birthday ever.
Even worse than that one time my family went on vacation without me on my birthday.
This is pretty good....I mean bad....I mean good at being bad.

I managed to light my face on fire.
Before seven in the morning
 Now that is talent
My hair and eyebrows are lightly singed in a chemistry explosion sort of manner and I smell of cologne de sulfur.  
Now I get to run around singing F.U.N. 's fire song with slightly different lyrics:
 "and I...I I I I.....I was du--u-u-u-mb, I set my hair on fire...I was on fire...la la la la laaaaa" 

Happy birthday to me
I am dumb as can be....
the rest of it.

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Chirpy the Chronically Depressed Cricket


Today Seize the Absurd introduces a new member to its cast of characters.
Please give a half hearted welcome to:

Who is plagued with a litany of social problems.

Even the psychiatrist doesn't listen to him.
He makes every party terribly awkward.

CHIRPY: I don't have any friends. Nobody listens to me I don't even know what I live for. Goodbye cruel world!


OH my god he raid-ed himself.
...It's hard to be a cricket.
They are also incredibly ugly which I discovered when I started drawing them, no wonder Disney's Jiminy Cricket looks nothing like an insect. It is really quite awkward to draw things with six legs.

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Gay Spongebob

Recently the Ukraine did some whining about Spongebob being gay.

       1. Sponges reproduce asexually (or function as both sexes simultaneously). No sexual orientation.
       2. Everyone: complaining about Spongebob being gay.
           No One: complaining about a failure to present scientific facts about sponges.

 And we sometimes wonder by the Asians kick our butts at science?

They also complained about the Teletubbies being losers.
  1.  Granted. The Teletubbies are losers. 
  2. However, they have televisions on their stomachs. Which is cool in an odd way, to which one says, "you are interesting, and your existence makes the world a more colorful place, but let's not hang out...Boy Gorge" 
  3.  They were definitely created by someone who had smoked an excessive amount of weed.
Coked up Screenwriter: "so some multi-colored baby faced creatures will have the ability to receive television signals"

     4. All children's television was created by people smoking an excessive amount of weed.

Coked up Screenwriter #2: "So this blue dog wanders around a house, with an adult man, together they communicate with inanimate objects..."

"Hi my name is Steve, cuss my life"
Yes you did cuss our lives, said every parent.

And no one complained: our children are dumber than ever.

A news article from Yahoo...

What you read news on Yahoo?
Yes I am a loser. Also, school didn't get the LA Times today about which I am pissed.

Saturday, August 18, 2012

Back to School...but cartooning on!

I remember when going back to school was the worst thing ever.
But now I am elated that I don't have to work 8 hours a day.
Now I read books 24 hours a day for the next 9 months. Sleep is for weak people... like me.

Since school is beginning I am going to have less time to do cartoons. BUT I WILL NOT STOP POSTING. Haha! Those annoying messages will pop up on your Facebook feed from now until the end of time (clearly I will make it to the end of time). However, I will mostly be posting on Saturday...or maybe on Sunday when I really should be doing homework.

I wear books on my head on a regular basis to see if it soaks in. If it doesn't, at least freshmen assume I am crazy and leave me alone.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Tolstoy, Newton and I

Some Riddles:
Tom. Marvolo. Merope. (hahaha! Said nobody. Cuss. I try so hard.)

How many Newtons does it take to solve thousands of years of astronomical quandary? One.

How many steps can Newton skip? All of them, he is a cussing genius remember. This is especially evident in that end bit of the Principa,

NEWTON: “so universal gravitation is the case...and therefore God exists”

ME: “I didn't see the steps there Sir. Fartface.”

NEWTON: “you didn't see the steps earlier when I compounded that ratio, doubled one side, used ex aequali, and then seperando...But I am not going to write out mundane steps like that because I want to separate the math boys from the math men (and the math homies like Kepler and Copernicus).
Not to mention rival math gangs like Leibniz n' crew.
You are clearly of the level “math juvenile delinquents” son.

ME: No. Uhhhhhhh. Newton...I am a girl.

NEWTON: Impossible. 1. You don't look like a girl. 2. Girls don't study In school silly.

ME: well actually.....INTERRUPTING TOLSOTY!!!!!!!!

Leo Suckup TOLSTOY: oh my gosh, Sir. Newton I have read your work and it is amazing, it is just so great! and your hair is fantastic! did I mention that I read your work? Or also that I have read your work?

(You might be saying to yourself, Liz, this is just too far fetched, read him' and weep.)

ME: How come you don't love me Tolstoy? Why do you love Newton? My sworn enemy/hated nincompoop of all time? 

TOLSTOY: who are you?

NEWTON: She's nobody. Here you go.

TOLSTOY: I love you! Are we friends?

NEWTON: Um, not really.


TOLSTOY: Traitor to you? Wait what great book are you the author of again? 

ME: (weeping)

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Olympics #3 Volleyball and being tall

Recently I learned that I have believed a lie for four years.

During the Beijing Olympics I thought that I heard the commentator say that at 6'1 Misty May was short for Olympic beach volleyball.
As I am 6'1..or 6'2-ish. I was overjoyed. I proclaimed from the rooftops that I was short for something. Yes, short for Olympic volleyball. I was an Olympic volleyball midget.

But, apparently I was not listening very well. During the London Olympics I discovered that this information was false.
Misty May is 5'9
Kerri Walsh is 6'3
I am not short for Olympic Volleyball.
I am not short for Olympic Basketball either. (I checked)
I am not short for anything.

Conclusion: Evolution having handed me all the cards, it shook its head in dismay as I sat on the couch eating Doritos, and not achieving a gold medal in anything.
 I think I took the cards and drew mustaches on the queen.

Sad times.

Great times:
Also It was fun to watch the USA go head to head in the final round of beach volleyball.
Misty May, Kerri Walsh, Jennifer Kessy, and April Ross are all from Southern California.

Yeah! It may be warm here but we rock some beach volleyball.
See how the California Bear plays volleyball gloriously?
See how the speed of the serve sets the volleyball aflame and KO's that player?

Look three posts on the Olympics!

  McKayla Maroney is not impressed.

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Olympics #2

In other news here is a picture of Carmelita Jeter being a boss. 
I think that my total muscle mass would be about the size of her bicep.

Olympics of posting.

In honor of the Olympics I am going to compete like a champion at blogging. Prepare for a barrage of cartoons about the Olympics.

Thursday, August 9, 2012

I like swears....bass-tart

Swears are fun. But if you use them without creativity you can give people the impression that you are stupid or even worse...boring. One also might want to have on hand some pseudo-swears words that sound like swears but are in fact not.

(conveniently sounds like a swear)

You Basstart! Have a Basstart.

Warning: do not leave Basstarts in your home or it will smell like a waste treatment plant. Do not feed to dogs, as they will become incredibly gaseous.

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Scary Tales or Fairy Tales

Not that scary. I hope you weren't expecting a horror movie or something. 

Someone asked me for fairy tales involving "Little Red Riding Hood", "The Wizard of OZ" and "Alice and Wonderland", this is the result.
On the bottom, a flamingo (named Reginald) fed up with the Queen of Hearts and her game of croquet, marches angrily off the playing field. Simultaneously rescuing  a hedgehog from the fray. Reginald plans to lead a revolution, stating that, "hedgehogs and flamingos should not be used as croquet instruments, nor are they effective instruments for playing croquet."
On the upper half the Wolf (having just eaten Little Red Riding Hood and her Grandmama), is offering the Little Red's heart to the Tin man.

Too-much-crack Presents:  "A Bedtime Story: Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and I took the one with all the cuss-tards on it." 

Please welcome our Narrator, the WOLF:  
 WOLF : "I don't know why I always get such a bad rap. I was taught by my parents to be polite and prey on the elderly and infirm. And, cuss it! I have stuck by it! Do you really think they taste better? They don't.
They call me the "Big bad wolf" and "sneaky devious wolf" but my name is "Alexis Wolfgang". I excel in scrap booking and I just want to make some friends. The other day I ran into a shiny object called the Tin man, I was just trying to help him out a bit...

TIN MAN: If I only had a heart!

WOLF: “Hey well I have this one you know, You can have it if you want to"   (* wolf smile)


WOLF: “I just... I just... I wanted to help. Ya know, and I thought you... well..."

WOLF: The Tin man hit me dreadfully hard with his stupid ax. 
In most stories I am hacked about by The Hunstman but he has gone off recently to be the hunk in some major motion picture and is busy. Thank God. But it appears that even without that lunatic I am yet again stuck in Fairyland's correctional facility.
The Tin man was awarded some badge of bravery or something, to which the Cowardly Lion said, "OH!! DAMN! If I only had C-c-c-courage!”


No really the wolf eats people. Because wolves eat people. He is a nice guy. Just don't tell him if you're sick. 

Thinking about the relative innocence of the wolf. How does PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) treat carnivores?
P.E.T.A: "we love animals don't kill them!"

ME: "But they kill each other...I mean you might have been able to save animals from us if hamburgers weren't tasty. How are you going to save them from themselves?"

P.E.T.A: oh we have a carnivore “rehabilitation” program. The Big Bad Wolf is in it right now.”
(Alexis Wolfgang sobs on the table as attendants attempt to force feed him vegetables)

ME: that doesn't look like its going so well...

P.E.T.A: Its going fine. We have lost four human attendants in the last three weeks to ravenous delusional carnivores. But we saved the lives of about 12 rabbits.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Paint is tasty.

Some people spend years building up immunity to poisons of various sorts. By taking tiny doeses of it.
I have consumed vast amounts of paint in tiny quantities. So I am pretty sure that I would be completely unaffected by large gobs of the stuff.
HA! All the people trying to slip various paint substances into my food stuffs will not succeed in killing me off!

Maybe I have already been effected.
Me at work.
working working...and then I stick the paint brush in the coffee cup...

Yum paint coffee.

Sunday, August 5, 2012

Push the button.

In case you were wondering about the boundless wonders of the internet.
In case you were bored ever.
http://www.instantsfun.es/ check it out.

My favorite buttons are "do a barrel roll", "falcon punch", "chan" and "sonar"
Go forth and have fun times.

NBC's Commercials during the Olympics.

sniff* I miss my scanner...no cartoons today. I am really sorry. Here have this trash instead.

I have been watching the Olympics religiously.
Ok, fine I have been watching women's beach volleyball religiously.
As a result I have become familiar with NBC's commercials for their new seasons.
Like this:

When the power went out.
All the guns stopped working. (?????)
So we had to fight each other with what we had around.
Which apparently was cutlasses, and some crossbows.
I can see that this comes from some NBC Producer saying, "well the Hunger Games did really well, can we have a girl shoot people with a bow? Is that too obvious?"
Yes. Yes it is.
(Ok fine. Truth: The commercial was so dumb that I watched the trailer and there were some guns. Revolutionary war muskets or something. Also batteries stop working because of magic or something.)

actually all of their shows look terrible...Dear Animal Practice, you do know that commercials for comedy shows should be funny right? NBC get off the pot ditching all its awesome comedy shows for crap.
This has been complaining, with Liz Rosema, thanks for watching.
Oh yeah go Misty-May and Kerri Walsh.

Palm Springs

I am in Palm Springs, because condos are cheap here in the summer.
In case you were wondering Palm Springs is hot. 
 We said to ourselves :
"LA isn't desert-y enough for us, let us go take a vacation in a real desert. Let us find a place where we catch on fire when we go outside." So we set off  in search of a land of milk and honey. Or more specifically, a  land where milk would go bad in about 2 seconds if you put it outside. (Which is pretty much what Israel is like anyway). 
Luckily there is air conditioning, which we are actually allowed to use. As opposed to home.
   Mom: "are you sure that you need the air conditioning on?"
   Me: "do you know what it is like to stand in the sun? I do. Because it's that hot upstairs."
   Mom: "doesn't sound too bad, stop being such a wimp"
Everyone I know who has central air conditioning doesn't use it. Which is probably good because LA has enough power outage issues in the summer as it is.
      Reporter: Another 5 elderly people died today as a result of power outages. Way to go central air-    conditioning jerks.
This also makes running very difficult because I have never run on a treadmill but it is a million degrees outside. I always feel like the treadmill will get tired of me stepping on it and try to buck me off- actually that might make a great sport.
I think I am going to have to try it though because I can feel myself congealing.

Friday, August 3, 2012

Truth or Dare

And now a post brought to you by:
Dualy Noted: advice about the implicit rules and inner workings of the timeless game "Truth or Dare".

1. Pick Dare.
First of all, I believe that the name "Truth or Dare" is a sort of misnomer. It might as well be called "Coward or Dare" or "Dare or Dare", because it is apparent to everyone that only the weak pick "truth". But the option of "truth" makes it abundantly clear which kids are not contenders for the throne in the realm of Kid-dom (this is pretty much the same as Game of Thrones in levels of brutality and unending evil, but not sketchy bits). This allows you to shun them with haste, and also saves you from making 4-square alliances with weak people.  Picking truth is the equivalent of leaving the water fountain before the requisite number of alligators. If you are willing to be pushed aside, you will probably never get a chance to drink from the water fountain again.
I am surprised that there aren't discovery channel shows about children (similar to the shows about prides of lions), "having entered the territory of the 6th graders, Bobby will be lucky to get out alive."
Plus truth is boring and mostly involves stuff we already knew about you already.
Q: "True or False: you pick your nose and then try to flick your boogers onto Mrs. Martin's desk."
A: "True, I have managed to get them into her coffee cup twice." (quadruple bonus kid points there)

2. Don't wimp out.
Do it. Dares mostly involve drinking blended tuna fish/chocolate syrup milkshakes.
 Once during Spanish Class while the teacher drones on a kid sitting in front of me turns around and brandishes some sort of chili pepper.
"eat it."
"I dare you." The magic words of challenge.
I stuff it in my mouth and chew. About 30 seconds later I bolt out of the room absolutely without warning, while exclaiming, "ahhhhhothothot!".
As I blitz by the teacher calls out, "the water fountain is not going to help you..."
She was right.
I wrote some standards entitled: "I will not take dares or eat hot peppers in class."

3. Remember, if you have done a dare you hold the power.
Dares are a two way street. If someone dares you to do something and you do it, you have the power to dare them back. If they don't do it they are a complete loser. Worse than the kid that chooses truth. They are anathema. Last year, (keeping in mind that I am 22 years of age) someone dared me to go outside in the pouring rain and lie down in a puddle. Which (of course) I did not fail to do immediately. On re-entering the building I dared them to roll down a soaking grass hill. For some reason they believed that they did not have to do it....must be home school or something. But I helped teach them the ways of dare and grass hill rolling they did go.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Yay! lots of views!

I am a god! Olympian status! 

I have about 300 views today alone. Which is not really that many compared to the true deities of the internet (The Oatmeal, and Allie Bosh for example), but I am working to get there.

   Support me like a starving artist, like a starving artist who just wanted to paint buildings and stuff but was rejected by the Vienna Academy of Art. (Yes! That young man I am thinking of is Adolf Hitler. Imagine that you were on the admissions board for the Vienna Academy of Art, and years later you thought “Cluster Cuss! I could have prevented World War Two by letting a young man do some landscape painting”). So think about that when you....wait, now I am sounding insane and dangerous.
Let the good times roll.
        I would like to invite you to follow my blog. I don't know where you are going to follow me to. Probably I will just sit in the bathroom for 20 minutes, and you will stand outside saying to yourself “longest poo ever”. Then I will break the Guinness world record for “longest poo ever” and will resolve to eat more prunes. But I won't eat more prunes because prunes are gross. I will also start sentences with “but” because this isn't an academic paper, and because I want to.
If you cannot follow my blog because you do not have blogger, like my page on facebook it is called "Seize the Absurd". It is easily recognized by a background of anthropomorphic liquor bottles. Aren't they nice?
I am glowing with the favor of the gods! Look at me I am like a glow worm doll! How creepy is that?
And on this day some more blog whoring was done.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

A Morbid Fascination

The previous cartoons were inspired by Edward Gorey and this chunk of  War and Peace. You don't have to read it since it's long but I figured I would include it anyway to give some explanation for these odd poems.

Context: Boris is a poor young military man who is desperate to improve his situation in life. His current goal is to acquire a wealthy wife in Moscow. The object of his affection is the wealthy heiress Julie Karagin. Anna Mihalovna is Boris's endlessly scheming mother.

Julie never missed a ball, a promenade, or a play. Her dresses were always of the latest fashion. But in spite of that she seemed to be disillusioned about everything and told everyone that she did not believe either in friendship or in love, or any of the joys of life, and expected peace only "yonder." She adopted the tone of one who has suffered a great disappointment, like a girl who has either lost the man she loved or been cruelly deceived by him. Though nothing of the kind had happened to her she was regarded in that light, and had even herself come to believe that she had suffered much in life. This melancholy, which did not prevent her amusing herself, did not hinder the young people who came to her house from passing the time pleasantly... Only a few of these young men, among them Boris, entered more deeply into Julie's melancholy, and with these she had prolonged conversations in private on the vanity of all worldly things, and to them she showed her albums filled with mournful sketches, maxims, and verses.
To Boris, Julie was particularly gracious: she regretted his early disillusionment with life, offered him such consolation of friendship as she who had herself suffered so much could render, and showed him her album. Boris sketched two trees in the album and wrote: 
"Rustic trees, your dark branches shed gloom and melancholy upon me."

On another page he drew a tomb, and wrote:
Death gives relief and death is peaceful.
Ah! from suffering there is no other refuge.

Julie said this was charming,
"There is something so enchanting in the smile of melancholy," she said to Boris, repeating word for word a passage she had copied from a book. "It is a ray of light in the darkness, a shade between sadness and despair, showing the possibility of consolation."

In reply Boris wrote these lines:
Poisonous nourishment of a too sensitive soul,
Thou, without whom happiness would for me be impossible,
Tender melancholy, ah, come to console me,
Come to calm the torments of my gloomy retreat,
And mingle a secret sweetness
With these tears that I feel to be flowing.

For Boris, Julie played most doleful nocturnes on her harp. Boris read Poor Liza aloud to her, and more than once interrupted the reading because of the emotions that choked him. Meeting at large gatherings Julie and Boris looked on one another as the only souls who understood one another in a world of indifferent people.
Anna Mikhaylovna, who often visited the Karagins, while playing cards with the mother made careful inquiries as to Julie's dowry (she was to have two estates in Penza and the Nizhegorod forests). Anna Mikhaylovna regarded the refined sadness that united her son to the wealthy Julie with emotion, and resignation to the Divine will.
"You are always charming and melancholy, my dear Julie," she said to the daughter. "Boris says his soul finds repose at your house. He has suffered so many disappointments and is so sensitive," said she to the mother. "Ah, my dear, I can't tell you how fond I have grown of Julie latterly," she said to her son. "But who could help loving her? She is an angelic being! Ah, Boris, Boris!"- she paused. "And how I pity her mother," she went on; "today she showed me her accounts and letters from Penza (they have enormous estates there), and she, poor thing, has no one to help her, and they do cheat her so!"
Boris smiled almost imperceptibly while listening to his mother. He laughed blandly at her naive diplomacy but listened to what she had to say, and sometimes questioned her carefully about the Penza and Nizhegorod estates.