A Secret Post

Here is a comic about how ebay works.

Artwork corner.

[Bone Appétit]

Artwork corner.

[Brozone]

(artist's notes: a little known fact: originally, before budget cuts, the folding chair was supposed to be a throne)

Artwork corner.

Second guest strip!
[Trial]

Artwork corner.

First guest strip!
[Bonezon'd]

Artwork corner.

[Bonezone II]

(artist's notes: drawn on one of those fancy expensive tablet things, printed out and painted with oils and acrylics, and retransfered with the latest in gigapixel camera technology)

Artwork corner.

[Bone-apart]

Fire Fly.

Several of my readers have issued complaints about my recipe collection severely underestimating the intelligence of the reader. In response, I have begun work on a second first edition printing which will both include corrections for and introduce a few typographical errors, eliminate large portions of cooking instructions, and contain an additional section of photographs of food.

I found myself in darkness. It didn’t occur to me at the time, but it must have been the middle of the night. I raised the upper half of my body and look around, seeing only empty space, so I swung my legs around the edges of my resting place, searching for some sort of ledging to lower myself to ground level. It was a success and I began my descent, but about halfway down, a window caught my attention and I halted progress to take in my surroundings. The window was part of an undeterminable-colored house. So naturally, I climbed right in. I smelled some chomps, so I headed through a door to a room with a stairwell going down on one side and the other with a typical bedroom setup: dresser with mirror, desk, shelving unit with books and movies, bed with single shoe placed in center. I was drawn to the shelves, where I picked up a huge piece of strudel that must have been placed to cool and forgotten. I took a bite. Lovely berries flavor. So good. I have it preferred to forest apples. Some brownies on a plate were on the desk and I snagged those too for eating later. Next, I was getting thirsty, so I headed down the stairs and grabbed a half-gallon container of 2% milk sitting out on a table. I broke the seal with a butter knife, drank some of it, but couldn’t finish, so I fumbled around in my pockets for some silica gel but couldn’t find any. Seeing a cabinet door to my left, I open it up and find a tub of rice. I drop a handful of grains into the milk carton and leave it where I found it.

~I missed the Barley Chef today. Even though he’s my favorite, I’ve only seen a few episodes of his show. I have a fear that if I learn the secrets of barley this way, I may ultimately not have as great an overall appreciation for it as I might if I were to try on my own. But if I try to teach myself barley cooking, I won’t ever come close to the amount of barley-related knowledge as modern barley cooks.~

As I walked forward, the thought of the sandwich I ate occupied my mind. I don’t know how much time passed, but it was now night and I could make out something that left an impression to me as being an concrete loft cube at a dig site. I didn’t stop at it, and continued on, reaching a home. I really had to take a piss, so I headed inside, but there was a huge line for the washroom. After getting in, it was completely empty. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I had to use the water to fix up my hair a bit, but I was soon lost in thought. What am I doing here, and why did I get here? What does it look like when someone has a fire burning in their eyes? My eyes look black in the middle. Maybe robots have lights in their eyes. If my face were slightly more robotic, I might be a robot. Everyone kind of is a robot. After all, they pray to Robotsk—someone entered the door. This person had a sad look in the eyes, but I knew how to offer a cheering up. I reached into my cargo pocket and grabbed a handful of brownie. “Hey there, what’s wrong? Don’t worry.. sshhh.. sshhhh... just look at me, everything’s gonna be all right. Here, I brought you some of mother’s brownies.”

Internotable Potables

I was getting pretty excited. Mouth salivating, about to take a bite of a delicious bacon-flavored marshmallow. This must be the first time such a wonderful product has been made widely available. Images raced through my mind, wondering about a new world. I would burst into random houses and rifle through kitchen cabinets, searching, and there would be one item that is a sure find every time: the bacon marshmallows. As I placed the marshmallow into my mouth, I almost didn’t realize the truth of the situation because of my preconceived flavor ideas. This was in fact just a normal strawberry marshmallow.

Seeing there was no longer a wall in front of me, I got out of my cross-legged sitting position, one of my favorites from childhood. Today’s children have much more uncomfortable sitting styles. For example, I believe the current procedure for proper sitting instilled upon youth is to have the right leg stretched out fully, middle finger of right hand wrapped around the right index toe, left leg bent at the knee with left foot resting on ground beneath right leg, left elbow resting on left knee, and back of left hand placed over the mouth and schnoz. All this got me thinking about when I used to watch the Barley Chef on television...

~”Now, our next recipe comes from a Lars Cooldude of Sandwich. Let’s see, first we boil a pot full of barley. We’re off to a good start here! I don’t think anything can go wrong, we have a recipe for success! Alright, drain the water, and stir in some mustard mustard to taste. I’m feeling a little adventurous here, so I’m going to add chopped onions and garlic cloves to mine. Some of you out there might not be able to handle this, I can understand. We’re about done here, so I’m going to pour this into plastic baggies for snacking on the go. Wonderful idea, Lars! We also had a recipe from a ‘Zeefer’, but sadly we do not accept submissions from large organizations, no matter how great the recipe is.” I watch the screen fade through watery eyes and some commercial appears for an upcoming movie everyone has been talking about lately.~

The emergency food station was just ahead. Excellent timing on the food station’s part since I was starved. I headed down the stairs and examined my surroundings. Operating in this environment is first nature to me. I was about to get to work, when I saw that someone must have been here already, since there was a completed sandwich with nondescript soy drink waiting for me. It was really something else: meatballs with a certain special sauce drizzled all over them. So good. Glancing around some more, I found a package that claimed to contain ingredients for a drink that fixes love problems. Even though I didn’t want to risk bringing an end to my relationship with sandwiches, I couldn’t help but imagine the end product. Terrible. I’m ashamed to admit that I thought of it. I’m sorry. On the way out, I saw a tableau that reminded me of someplace I might have been before, but I couldn’t quite place it. I closed my eyes and shook my head, then moved on.

Great Deceiver Food Boxen

I recently have acquired some cock sauce and I feel that it is the sort of thing I would like to take with me everywhere, just in case a situation comes up. I encourage everyone else to do the same.

I exited the building looking at my altimeter I always carry with me wherever I go. 417 feet beneath the ground level. It looked like I was in the heart of a city. Everything had a pale green hue to it, reminding me of the color of someone’s skin if poisonous artichokes were to be passively eaten by them. Feeling a sense of accomplishment for having come so far, I looked upwards dramatically, but the cave’s ceiling was there blocking a sweet view of clouds or a starry sky. Anyway, I had wanderlust and began to head over to the local mall.

~A long time ago, the people lived happily and freely, but, without their knowing, an evil slowly began to spread, clouding their minds and souls with darkness. Naturally, they proceeded to make a pact with the devil. Raising the devil’s battlement edition loftcube, they hoped to bring a new man into the world. One who would be remembered by history as the first to invent long steel cutlery, harbingering a new age, and going forth to sample fine foods everywhere.~

I put back the movie in the foreign film section. der gottlose Feinschmecker. These things weird me out sometimes, but I have a fondness for them. I just browsed through some more aisles for stuff before heading out. I was getting hungry again at this point, so I start looking for some chomps. Anything will do, but I was hoping for some specially prepared still sealed meals. Maybe it’s an eating disorder or mental condition, but I want to be sure that I’m the first one to have eaten from a specific food item. A heaping plate of risotto was sitting out, so I engaged in gormandization, and once satisfied, I headed once again on my way.

Makin Bacon

It may be a difficult procedure, but if you can cook your bacon rare, you will have the opportunity to collect the benefits. And don’t let people discourage you by telling you it’s just soggy old bacon.

Light steel walls lined the corridor and the floor was made of dirty metal grating, with a river of strawberry drug-laced milk running beneath it. Strawberry milk can be dangerous, because if you, specifically, start drinking it and get a thing going on, you can forget how you like banana milk so much more. I saw another stairwell going down, so I proceeded. Upon reaching the top of my ascent, I was in a small bedroom, with the ceiling at an angle, I assume because of the roof of the building. The room had a light brown feeling to it, sort of like the house was made out of wood, except that it wasn’t. There was however a desk made out of wood, and on it was placed a bowl of soup. I couldn’t resist, so I tried it out. A little taste test. I don’t want the next person who eats from this to die from poisoning. As I swallowed, memories rushed into my mind.

~I am carrying a bowl of soup, with mittens on, to protect me from the heat. I walk a bit too quickly, and the hot liquid spills onto the mittens, going through to my skin. Unable to just stop now, I continue on to the cellar, where I can finally place the bowl down safely. Relieved that the soup is safe, I take the mittens off, to find out that my hands have become melded. Now, I was looking upon one fine pair of club hands.~

I leave the soup where it was, confident that it is indeed safe, and headed back down the stairs. Arriving at the landing, I read a panel on the left wall: “B22”. I estimated that I must have been 367 feet underground at this point. Despite the hallways being mostly dark, I was able to see things clearly, and commit all the images to memory. The walls looked to be maybe some sort of concrete, with cracks in it from vines growing through. I imagined that a shopping mall could have been located here at one point, so I took a look into one of the side rooms, and saw a display of products. Back into the hallway, I headed down to continue, hoping to perhaps find some old stereo equipment along the way.

Sandwich Time ist over.

I invented a food teleporter for sending food long distances, but I had mixed feelings about it. After it scans the food item and replicates it at the destination, it destroys the original. Was the food actually teleported? I don’t want such a device to exist in this world.

After a sandwich is gone, I lose track of time. My autowandering took over, and I arrived at an underground room with shiny steel walls, and rusty bolts along seams. On all the sides of the bolts, blue goo was present. I went through the tunnels at the end of the room and took a left turn, arriving at the information room. A glass panel was on the wall, and through it, packages passed by on a conveyer belt. I turned towards my mailboxen, but first noticed the newspaper stand nearby. I picked up my favorite, and took a look through to see if I could find anything. There were some ads for vacations in the fjords, and also articles on food etiquette. Something about the food article seemed familiar to me, so I checked it out.

~... but be careful. Once you reach the center, you cannot continue eating. To do so would be a serious mealtime faux pas. If you need help, just try to imagine you are eating artichoke hearts. So in the future, please plan out your strategy for eating cinnamon rolls ahead of time so you don’t get backed into a corner at the dinner table.~

I noticed that I was the one that wrote the article. I put my pen down, and snipped a coupon for some mushrooms. I always love a good mushroom deal.

music to accompany the internote: Cinema Bizarre - Love Songs (They Kill Me).

Artwork corner.

First Host Strip!
[A Nice Hotel]