Huge comic books geeks love getting their boxer's in a bunch over dumb shit like the numbering of long running comic books. DC just announced that Action comics, which as been continually published since 1938 and reached over 900 issues, well be "resetting" this summer with a new issue #1. A few years ago Marvel did the same withing with most of their longest running titles, like The Avengers and Fantastic Four. Nerdfolk were outraged. I laughed at them. What a stupid thing to care about. I was above such petty concerns. I cast scorn upon the fastidious fanboys from my lofty perch of detached phlegmatism. I could not be more nonplussed about the whole situation.
UNTIL THEY DECIDED TO FUCK WITH THE UNCANNY X-MEN. FUCK YOU MARVEL. I HAVE A NEARLY 500 CONSECUTIVE ISSUES OF AN UNBROKEN RUN. AND NOW YOU WANT TO FUCK UP MY ARCHIVES. NO ONE FUCKS UP MY ARCHIVES. YOU WILL BE RESETTING THE NUMBERING OF UNCANNY X-MEN OVER MY LIFELESS ROTTING CORPSE, MOTHERFUCKERS.
Which if I were serious means my life would be extinguished by this October, which is when Uncany X-Men will go from 544 back to 1. So while I am joking and I won't be hyperventilating about his, a genuine pang of bummerness shot through my body when I read about Marvel's intentions on my favorite faggot nerd blogs.
As I mentioned, Marvel's renumbered just about every title in their catalog, even the Amazing fuggin Spider-Man. Part of the appeal of the Uncanny X-Men is that their sales have always been strong enough that they never needed to pull one of these blatant marketing gimmicks. Well no longer. And for that, the powers that be in the Marvel editorial offices can suck my asshole until it prolapses all over their stupid fucking faces. Jerks.
In other earth shattering news of grave world-wide consequence, I tried trolling some dickhead on Craigslist for trying to sell the worst comic book collections in the history of the universe. The seller, a mix tape producer and part time hustler by the name of Oil Spill (I swear I'm not making that up), took the bait, and our exchanges were mildly amusing (to me, Oil Spill got pretty pissed and told me repeatedly to "jump off his dick") but it could have been better. So I'm not going to cut and paste the whole electronic conversation. There weren't many good lines either. Just a grade A nimrod trying to pawn off his worthless comics at ridiculously inflated values. By the end it became more pitiful than funny.
Anyway, here is a sampling of the shit comics Oil Spill was hawking. The number in parentheses is the number of copies of each issue he was attempting to unload.
NFL SuperPro 1 (4)
Secret Defenders 1 (4)
X-Force 1 (19)
X-Men 1 (17)
Brigade 1 (4)
The Maxx 1 (4)
Pitt 1 (4)
Spawn 1 (22)
WildC.A.T.s 1 (24)
Bloodshot 1 (14)
H.A.R.D. Corps 1 (4)
Holy shit those are some awful fucking comic books. And Oil Spill was asking five bucks each! What a dildo.
On a totally unrelated note to which there is no reasonable segue, I watched Dead Presidents the other day. Good fucking movie. In one scene, for basically no reason, Michael Imperioli (AKA Christaphuh Multisanti) gets ambushed by some Vietcong and gets his cock and balls cut off and stuffed in his mouth. Here is a picture I drew of that scene.
Haha, sick! Man am I glad I didn't have to fight in the Vietnam War. That would have totally sucked!
OK, I'll try to get back to writing about Claremont's run on X-men now. I've been a little distracted lately with this pain in my ass job. Fucking job. It ain't nothing but work.
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