In The Beginning

So that's how that happened. Okay, I have something to tell you. I think I'm going to kind of restructure the way I put out comics next year. Well, specifically, Wigu. Here's what I'm thinking right now, I'm gonna stew it over for a few days though until I make a final decision.

Overcompensating is more popular than Wigu now, by quite a large margin. However, I really enjoy drawing Wigu. After all, Overcompensating is basically a retelling of things that actually happen to me so it doesn't take a lot of effort for me to do what is in essence taking notes. Plus it's extremely fun. However, I have some concerns about Wigu.

The kind of comic I want Wigu (and American Platypus and other associated materials) to be can no longer be restricted by a "daily" format. These little stories need to be told all at once, not with just cliffhanger after cliffhanger. I'm thinking of releasing a montly "mangazine" of sorts. It will be something that's available for free both online and offline (as a small book available for purchase online and in stores who want to offer it - the paper version would have extras like short stories, etc). I'm looking for ways to make the paper version to be a nice little full-color job, around 24-36 pages a month. Basically I'd like for the 9pm-2am time slot in my current daily schedule (when I typically draw Wigu) to go toward something more creative and profitable and fun.

This decision is still being deliberated in my mind but there's other reasons too, such as the fact that I do not completely own the domain name "wigu.com;" it is technically under the control of the government of another country. I do however own "overcompensating.com" and a number of others. Although "wigu.com" does not expire until like 2010 it's fate is a constant concern of mine and I'd rather have my primary domain to be one that I actually have control over.

Anyway, this is just a notification of things possibly to come. 2005 was an incredibly weird, successful, and exhausting year, but 2006 is the one where we're gonna get our name on a blimp.

INTERVENTION TIME

I hate it when you have to have an intervention with a friend who is going too buck wild.

Time travel. What if everything that's screwed up in history is because of bungling time travelers? What if somebody went way back in the future and told everyone that there wasn't an afterlife, that when you die you just die. What if this resulted in a one single culture of goths. Everybody on the planet is suddenly a goth. So then they have to send people back in time and tell everyone to believe in some alien called Xenu and who blew up the world with H-bombs or something. Then you've got a culture of... well, the entire world is exactly like Hollywood.

I think the reason backwards time travel is impossible is because people will probably never be responsible enough to handle it (I'm looking at you, L. Ron, up there among the stars, all dashing upon your magical space horse).



Shout out to my new neighbors at Reprodepot.

Hail to the Beef

You know, I've been thinking about the names of things. There's a lot of geese around here; many a goose. I wish geese were called "honkies" instead.

A lot of people have been asking me what exactly the Eighth Stage is. Well first, if you have to ask, you probably can't afford it. And also, I need to have a secret to take to the grave, something to whisper with my final expiration of air, into the ear of a woman who has only at that moment realized how much she loves me. And if she's worth a damn, she'll join me right then and there in the Great Return.

The Eighth Wonder Part II

Back in high school, or possibly junior high, my friend Bobby told me he made it to the Eighth Stage. I did not believe him but he swore to God it was true, so I had no choice but to believe him. I still am not sure though; it seems impossible to make it to the eighth stage.

The Eighth Wonder

Dear Xmas,

You were yesterday. So how come when I went to the post office today to drop off a couple of buckets of packages the post office was closed? I am going to have to re-date about 50 packages because you still think it's still you. After that I went to get some beer. Guess what? Beer is not sold on the day after Xmas here. It's Monday, and some of us need to work and failing that, get drunk. But I bet if I was speeding I'd get a ticket, wouldn't I, Xmas? Before I was just bummed out because of you, Xmas. Now I am extremely mad at you. Xmas, I am breaking up with you. If you call me again I'll call the police.

Love,
Jeffrey Rowland

PS: I just noticed the Chav Bar* is open today. You're going to force me to go to the Chav Bar, aren't you Xmas?


*The bar right by my apartment where Chavs go to drink.

The Cowboy Poet and the Jew

Happy Holler-Days. It's no Spring Break, but it'll do for today I guess.