Wednesday, June 29, 2011


note to self #111: no kids' behind left

Well, jack kelly, author of note to self has some more horrific comics, this week's installment being called "horror movie black guy." The first scrawling is about jack kelly's aspirations to become a modern-day teacher, which is to say, he wants to sit around screaming at kids all day, clock out, collect a check, buy video games, and then go home to play Xbox online so he can scream at 12-year-old Korean boys--who are pwning him hardcore (natch)--about how much he hates the idiot American kids he has to teach all day. It's the circle of strife. And it moves us all.

note to self #112: peanut better and yalie

Oh, jack kelly, how delusional are you? Where do you get off feeling superior to anyone? I've dropped turds more valuable than you. Seriously--I had swallowed a quarter earlier and it was wedged in the dooky.

note to self #113: ender's got game

Good job, jack kelly. Do you think you're tough by making allusions to the grittiest parts of classic sci-fi literature? Don't for a second even try to act like you're any sort of tough guy. I've seen you tear up during a popcorn commercial. And geez, I didn't realize you were from the deep south with that latter character's revelation. I bet your Valentine's Days are pretty sick. And I don't mean cool-sick, you creep.

note to self #114: thus steroids

I see, jack kelly, your psychological problems stem from your hideously anti-Kodiak memories of your father. No, no, it's cool. Really. Paternal angst is so in this year/generation.

note to self #115: jocks know the score

Come now, jack kelly, athletes at Yale on massive-rostered teams that spend hours upon hours together daily are just as prone to bouts of depression as potent as any undergone by isolated comicsers who only have at-best-apathetic "colleagues" who only draw to kill time between classes. Sure athletes have personal resources in coaches and teammates whom they interact with continuously every day and everywhere, on and off the field, but these gregarious extroverts can feel entirely as out of place and lonely during the two hours a day they aren't wearing coordinated outfits with fifty other dudes or clashing their bodies against their pals or throwing back brewskies with their broskies. Sitting in a room wondering where life went off the rails for you as you draw yourself into oblivion like an alcoholic on a bender is nothing. NOTHING. Give yourself a reality check before you mouth off next time, jack kelly, you insensitive idiot.


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