The OFFICIAL Unofficial Achewood Message Board
Achewood => Achewood => Topic started by: iron_felix on September 18, 2007, 04:17:42 am
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This was my childhood. (http://www.achewood.com/index.php?date=09182007)
A Philippe-abuse strip in the classic mold. The onomatopoeias really sell this one - even better then the one with the king piss where he was all "Garble gabble gobble greeble" and suchlike.
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This one hit close to home.
Ever since the accident, "vag-guh-Guh GUH!" is how I'm forced to pronouce the word "pu$$y."
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nice.
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The otter, equipped with a furry face and lacking opposable thumbs, is unable to remove the gum from his fur.
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That last panel of Teodor helping Philippe with his head wound is kind of touching, in a weird way.
Also, I recall my learning to blow bubbles being a huge event when I was a kid. I was maybe six or seven, which I guess is way behind the curve on this? I had Fine Motor Problems as a wee kid.
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Wow, this one is like an old school Batman.
WHANK!
KRAK!
AH-GROOBAH-PFUH!
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THIS NOT FUNny
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THIS NOT FUNny
Dude, I know you're sensitive about your inability to blow bubbles, but I told you I'd help you with it.
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The panel of Teodor's bubble breaking is basically viscerally horrifying.
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I still can't blow bubbles very well.
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Also, I recall my learning to blow bubbles being a huge event when I was a kid. I was maybe six or seven, which I guess is way behind the curve on this? I had Fine Motor Problems as a wee kid.
Like I said, this was my childhood. I didn't learn to blow bubbles until I was about nine or ten. When I was in second grade, one of my classmates had a bubblegum-themed birthday party, during school (it was Fun Friday or something like that), and I was the only one who couldn't blow bubbles. Took me a long time to live that one down. I don't think I ever sustained a head injury, but I can definitely feel for poor Philippe here.
Then, over one magical summer, everything finally clicked and I could blow bubbles like nobody's business. Wherever I went, I'd take along a couple packs of watermelon Bubblicious, stuff five pieces at a time in my mouth, and blow bubbles literally bigger than my head. They were so big I couldn't suck all the air back into my mouth, and I had to deflate them by poking holes in them with a pencil just to keep them from bursting and getting in my hair. Eventually my head got bigger and my lungs didn't, and the magic faded, but when I'm at my parent's house I still occasionally come across an old gum-encrusted pencil. They're pretty gross now, obviously, but never enough so to overcome the wave of nostalgia they bring, and I always put them back.
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This is some good stuff. I also had bubble blowing issues.
Also: that is a hell of an expression phillipe is rocking in the fourth to last panel.
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While Phillipe's expressions are meant to be the focus of the strip, it's Teodor's expression in panel four that really horrifies me. His mouth seems to twist and fold in on itself like a goddamned Klein bottle.
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"Whank"
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This was a great strip. Solid A from me.
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At last, confirmation that the Speaker Sneakers were indeed Velcro. Oh, how I have waited for this day.
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At last, confirmation that the Speaker Sneakers were indeed Velcro. Oh, how I have waited for this day.
Oh my. Cort, you need more joy in your life. Did you know you can have a variety of adult magazines delivered right to your door?
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Oh my. Cort, you need more joy in your life. Did you know you can have a variety of adult magazines delivered right to your door?
But Velcro, Smells. Velcro!
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I still can't blow bubbles very well.
You don't understand ... Bubbles is my dog!
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While Phillipe's expressions are meant to be the focus of the strip, it's Teodor's expression in panel four that really horrifies me. His mouth seems to twist and fold in on itself like a goddamned Klein bottle.
Heh. Panel 3 reminded me of this strip (http://achewood.com/index.php?date=01042006) -- specifically the last few panels -- but then when I finally re-found that strip it turned out not to be all that similar at all. Oh well.
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Then, over one magical summer, everything finally clicked and I could blow bubbles like nobody's business.
This is what it was like when i finally learned to snap. I still get compliments on my crisp snaps.
now: whistling. oooh boy.
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While Phillipe's expressions are meant to be the focus of the strip, it's Teodor's expression in panel four that really horrifies me. His mouth seems to twist and fold in on itself like a goddamned Klein bottle.
Yeah, and the other upsetting thing is that the popping bubble almost looks like a mouth with facial hair--familiar from someplace (http://www.achewood.com/index.php?date=03082006).
EDIT: I am talking about panel 3. Panel 4's mouth is also upsetting.
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I can blow bubbles and whistle, but apparently I look kind of funny when I do either because I am lopsided. The muscles on the left side of my mouth don't work very well, and while this has never been a problem in terms of speaking or eating, I often end up looking rather like I'm smirking instead of smiling because I have intentionally focus on raising both corners of my mouth. I think this is why posed photos never seem to "look like me." I sort of whistle out of the corner of my mouth and when I blow a bubble with bubble gum I do all the oral gymnastics on the right side.
Fortunately, Pedro thinks my smirk is adorable. My brother has this problem too, so maybe it's some sort of genetic maladaptation. I guess it's just another special way in which I'm broken.
Pedro can't see colors. He went to the recycling center last week and the guy told him, "Plastic and aluminum in the green bins; cardboard in the brown ones." He had to ask the guy which ones were which. It doesn't come up often, but every so often something happens that reminds us that color-blindness is actually a little bit of a disability. Moreso than not being able to blow a bubble, but less than not being able to tie your own shoes.
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Teodor has come a long way from holding Phillipe back while Lyle punches him in the gut.
Later addition: I just realized that Phillipe's nose gets bigger when he is sad. True story.
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Pedro can't see colors. He went to the recycling center last week and the guy told him, "Plastic and aluminum in the green bins; cardboard in the brown ones." He had to ask the guy which ones were which. It doesn't come up often, but every so often something happens that reminds us that color-blindness is actually a little bit of a disability. Moreso than not being able to blow a bubble, but less than not being able to tie your own shoes.
My mother-in-law is red/green colorblind. Its unusual in women, since its an X-linked trait and she has to inherit a color-deficient X from both parents to experience it. Classically, my brother-in-law is color blind as well, since he could only have gotten his X from his mom, who could only supply busted copies. My wife isn't color blind at all, since one of her X's came from her normal, "wild-type" dad, and the good one makes up for the gimpy one. I sometimes use the thrill of genetic experimentation as an inducement for having another kid, "We might get a color-blind one if its a boy!" 50% of our male offspring should inherit her color-deficient X. An equally compelling experiment will be seeing what kind of grand-kids our daughter gives us. If she has enough boys, and none of them are color blind, we'll be able to deduce that the X my wife gave her was the one from Stacey's father (the good one). That is, if she has 4 non-color-blind boys, we'll know with 93.75% confidence that the gene didn't get passed on through our line. Only 87.5% confidence if she has 3 non-colorblind boys. If she has any colorblind sons, we'll know that Stacey passed on her mother's X. If she only has daughters, I'll need to work on some longevity treatments to observe the outcomes in great-grandchildren.
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ok, this is morbid, but I just imagined them burying you with a little chute leading down to your coffin, so they could pass you down a note. "no colorblindness! your predictions correct!"
maybe a pneumatic tube. or, if you're fancy, just a microphone jack in the gravestone, leading down to a little speaker in your coffin.
Why haven't they done this? I'm sure some weird people would love to be able to talk to their dead relatives in this way!
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How about a telephone? (http://www.snopes.com/horrors/gruesome/buried.asp)
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Then, over one magical summer, everything finally clicked and I could blow bubbles like nobody's business. Wherever I went, I'd take along a couple packs of watermelon Bubblicious, stuff five pieces at a time in my mouth, and blow bubbles literally bigger than my head.
Weirdly enough, I'm pretty sure watermelon Bubblicious was also the first gum that I succeeded with. (I would have to check the family scrapbook to be sure; note that this was a major enough event that it's in the scrapbook. Sad.) Maybe there was some Bubble-Impaired-Kid Helper in there?
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I am both red-green colourblind and ginger-haired. The sheets they wrap round you at my local barbers' are red.
I spent the first eleven years of my life wondering why my hair turned green when it was cut off.
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Yay for that story!
Pedro told me when he was a kid, in the springtime it looked like the ground was on fire.
This is when I figured out why he never felt the need to experiment with drugs as a teenager. His reality was already altered.
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I did not learn how to whistle until I was about 12, and at church of all places. Apparently I am pretty good at this, or at least good enough to whistle a tune by ear, which is basically a pointless skill unless I become a rubber limbed sailor or a member of a Scorpions cover band.
Philippe's arm in panel six looks like it would have weird bones.
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Weirdly enough, I'm pretty sure watermelon Bubblicious was also the first gum that I succeeded with. (I would have to check the family scrapbook to be sure; note that this was a major enough event that it's in the scrapbook. Sad.) Maybe there was some Bubble-Impaired-Kid Helper in there?
Oh dear god, I may have to nip out to the store and Get Nostalgic with a packet of that gum. I have this retarded watermelon allergy, but apparently there isn't enough (any?) real watermelon in there. That gum is so ridiculously good. It probably won't taste as good as I remember, but I must try.
I am both red-green colourblind and ginger-haired. The sheets they wrap round you at my local barbers' are red.
I spent the first eleven years of my life wondering why my hair turned green when it was cut off.
Wait...so you're red-green colorblind. In the mirror, your hair looks red/ginger? But against a red cape it looks green? I'm so confused.
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I thing it was the combination of a much stronger red background and my hair being in smaller chunks than it generally is on my head. But I don't really understand it myself, I just document its more entertaining effects for the benefit of others.
Unless, of course, my hair really does turn green when cut off in the peculiar atmosphere of Mister Gee's Men's and Boys' Hairdressing. It could be the effect of the same compound that appears to make their giraffe immortal.
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Anybody else harbor childhood dreams of being a barber?
Guess it's just me then.
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Contract
Section 12, subsection A: Understandings
It is to be understood by the Child that he or she is to refrain at all times from engaging in imagination games about becoming a barber.