ASP Badass Diary from Hell

The other night someone must have injected some testosterone into my late-night Apple Jacks because I had one of the most intense dreams of my life. And now you are all going to hear about it.

Typically, my dreams are fairly action-packed, but my first year of medical school has filled a lot of my brain-space with paranoia for exams, which I think leaked into the “awesome” lobe of my brain.

The dream: Having finished Gross Anatomy, we moved on to the next course: “Disease Treatment.” Only in this case, we treated diseases by tearing open and climbing into the very fabric of our patients’ souls, which I can only assume was some seriously dark magic.

Having torn a hole in the space-time-spirituality continuum, we reluctantly plummeted into their inner psyche where we battled physical manifestations of their ailments using chainsaws, shotguns, and crossbows. It was terrifying. It was like Osmosis Jones if Rob Zombie did the art direction.

At one point in the dream I was set to battle Hepatitis B, which presented itself startlingly similarly to the queen in Aliens (Copyright apparently doesn’t extend to the subconscious. Yet.) Anyway, I had to battle this thing in a dark cavern with a chainsaw. They wouldn’t let me out until I finished the “treatment.” So I went up against the slimy thing, screaming the entire time out of terror, which foreshadows what my surgical career is probably going to be like.

The dream concluded with a final exam, which began with us firing a handgun at a target and concluded with us having to cross the firing range alive. In retrospect, that’s not too different from the actual process.

Yes, we are fully aware of the implications of today’s strip. In this little lock-and-key universe, the fact that the locks are wearing their genitalia proudly on their chests like the Kryptonian “S” of Superman does not escape us. And indeed the men are essentially giant upright penises, bouncing around like Tigger from one adventure to the next.

But that’s not I’m here to talk about. Instead, I’d like to discuss the issue on everyone’s mind today. That’s right. Ghosts. I believe that my driveway is haunted. Hear me out before you callously dismiss me as being paranoid.

I first noticed that something was amiss when I heard intermittent rushing of wind from outside followed by the occasional thud against my window. The only logical conclusion was that these were ghosts staggering around, doomed to fulfill unfinished business. Or they were just bored and clumsy. Either way: Ghosts!

Exhibit 2: I was attempting to carry a fifty-pound package of seeds into the apartment (in an unrelated project to grow my own firewood in my backyard) when it spilled open, scattering a handfuls of seeds all over the porch. “I’ll clean it up in the morning,” I thought, not suspecting that ghouls would intervene (a foolish thought, I know). The next morning, I stumbled out to my front porch still tipsy from my breakfast Windex, and all of the seeds were gone! Unaware that ghosts liked eating tree fetuses so much, I slammed the door behind me as I cowered in fear and quietly hiccupped bubbles.

After three days of sitting by the door listening to the ghosts mill around and chirp to one another in their high-pitched ghost language, the sounds finally subsided and I ventured outside armed with a Dirt-Devil to capture any ghosts that might show themselves.

I investigated the area, and the evidence of ghosts was strikingly clear. There was bright white ectoplasm all over my car and the sidewalk. And it must have been cold because I found a few feathers that likely spilled out of one of the ghosts wearing a down jacket.

This message was a warning. If I suddenly disappear, get your (anti) ghost-gun. It might already be too late.

One hundred comics! There’s a milestone or something. I know that you can divide 100 by a lot of other numbers, which makes it significant, apparently.  More importantly, expect more of a shindig come the 25th of this month, because that is when we will be celebrating AmazingSuperPowers’ first successful rotation around the sun.

It was also only at the last minute that I actually remembered to renew the domain “AmazingSuperPowers.com,” which is a good thing if you are a fan of the comics and a bad thing if you are really into attack porn sites. In related news, stay tuned for AmazingSuperPowers‘ exciting transition into an attack porn site!

And when I say “attack porn” I don’t mean that the site will attack your computer with pop-ups, viruses, and LOLcats. Instead, our highly paid actors and actresses will find your house, punch you in the arm, and make fun of your pets. And they will do it naked.

One hundred comics! Hot damn, that is potentially enough to be able to release a book. Naw, there’s no way we could afford to put the money up front for that…

You may have noticed that ASP is a comic about a young girl and her adventures through toyland with her anthropomorphic teddy bear, and is not a comic about video games (which is a terrible crime, because what this world needs more of is video game related humor and, more importantly, video game related miscarriage humor.)

Nonetheless, this post is about a video game! Wes and I both own Xbox 360s, and were excited to hear about a game called “Braid” coming to the Arcade. Despite our initial alarm and dismay that this wasn’t a game about hairstyling, we were pleased to find a beautiful little world in which you guide Angus Young through a slew of clever puzzles. And yes, even though Wes and I are both card-carrying MENSA members, now and again we like things that make us feel smart. For instance, being the only people we know that don’t watch Bravo. LOL?

We’re strong supporters of paying for things that you like in order to keep the good times rollin’, so y’all should check it out. Additionally, the artwork in Braid was done by the very talented David Hellman of A Lesson is Learned but the Damage is Irreversible, one of our favorite reads.

KEEP ON KEEPIN’ ON.