The Daily Doodles

“The Girl Who Solved All Of Her Problems”

There once was a sad girl who had problems every day :’-(
Too many annoying people, each trying to have their say
She was sick of all the bastards, so she prayed for a solution
And God finally replied, “why not try a mass execution?”

“It just might work!” thought the girl, “I can at least give it a try”
So she got her best machete, and made a list of those to die.
She caught ‘em by surprise, killing them sleeping in their beds
And the girl amassed a great collection, of all their severed heads.

The brave go-getter girl slashed her way to a better life
As there’s nuthin’ that can’t be fixed with the serrated blade of a knife
After decapitating all her problems, the girl is happier than she’s ever been
And she lived happily ever after… with no problems ever again. :’-)

(Starring the nice lady from thatonecreepygirl.tumblr.com!)

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“The Black Hole at the Center of the Galaxy”

The long dormant electronics creak and moan while R-EM1 the Droid snaps out of its hibernation mode and the ship’s console comes alive for the first time in 300 years… its’ gears and joints stiff, the robot looks out, and slowly but instinctively scans its surroundings while it tries to remember exactly what it’s doing out here in the emptiness of space.

Outside the window, R-EM1 finds its optic sensors transfixed upon a swirling gigantic blacker-than-black mass in the distance, unsure of what its looking at but knowing it is significant, until it glances down at the digital readout on the monitor— it’s the black hole at the center of the galaxy.

Upon that realization, memory floods back into the robot’s hard drive as its little-used circuits warm up, helping R-EM1 remember his mission… his mission to circle the black hole at its event horizon, just out of reach of its immense gravitational pull, and to continue circling for 500 years before returning back to Earth.

Since time moves differently the closer one is to a gravitational force such as a black hole, time within the ship will feel steady… but back on Earth, thousands of years will have passed.  The robot will be rocketing into the future, returning to an assumeably vastly different Earth, where it will be studied and treated as a time capsule of sorts, each read-out and scrap of its framework being picked apart and studied as the 5000 year long experiment comes to fruition. 

And, R-EM1 hates it.

So, R-EM1 plans to fire the ship’s atomics at the heart of the black hole, theoretically creating a chain reaction that causes the entire galaxy to collapse and all life in the Milky Way to end.  Ohhh, it sounds like bliss to the exhausted R-EM1… no more robots being used for these scientists’ games, no more war, no more heartbreak, no more death (after the initial “everyone dies” phase, of course)… if there were history books to be written after everything is destroyed, which there won’t be, but if there were, R-EM1 is sure that it’d be treated as the hero it believes it is.  A champion for all of Living-Kind.  Everything will make sense then…

R-EM1 overrides the defense mechanisms meant to prevent someone from doing exactly what it is trying to do, and the atomic missiles blast into the inky darkness of the black hole, swallowed up quickly by it’s enormous gravitational pull.  And then, R-EM1 waits.

And waits.

And then waits some more.

Something should be happening by now… the chain reaction that collapses the entire galaxy and destroys everything we know SHOULD be chain reacting-ing, but the black hole just sits there, almost taunting poor R-EM1.  The atomics didn’t matter at all, the black hole didn’t even flinch.  It couldn’t care less about what R-EM1 wants to do.

For 7 years R-EM1 floats there, depressed and sullen about its plan not even coming close to working… Stupid, stupid, STUPID it repeats to itself endlessly, as the pathetic failure of the plan plays over and over within its memory banks.

Finally, pouting all the way, the robot decides it should just do what it was created to do, and begins to circle the black hole for the next 500 years. 

Oh well… :-/

Can’t just sit here and do nothing, after all.

Posted 11/27/2012

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“All Problems Solved”

Marcus Schneider looks down at his test score, and sees exactly what he expected— another “F”.  He surely will have failed the class now, and might even have to repeat the entire 7th grade.

Ohhhhhhh his parents are going to be so angry…!  He’d give anything for them to not find out, but what can he do?  His grades will arrive in the mail any day now (and ever since he tried to hide the last one, his dad gets a copy mailed to his office too).

As he dwells on solutions to his problem, Marcus realizes that it really would be so, so awesome if his parents would just die before they got his report card.

Everyone would feel so bad for him!  Nobody would care about his insignificant bad grades right after his parent’s death.  And there’s no way the school would punish him either, not during his time of grief.  They’d likely even reward him for being so strong in the wake of his parent’s passing!

It truly would solve all of his problems, forever.

Plus, it’d really be the best for them.  It’ll break their poor little hearts to know how dumb he is… heck the disappointment alone might kill them anyways, so they might as well die beforehand, right?  Perhaps in a violent car crash, or maybe a mugging gone awry…

Bahhh… a boy could only be so lucky. :-/

Posted 12/30/2011

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Mongo the Bear can’t wait to tell Kevin the good news. :-)

Ever since overhearing Kevin’s mother telling his father that she thinks Kevin has gotten too old to be playing with stuffed animals, Mongo has been worried… he cherished his time with Kevin above all else, and the day wasn’t complete if he couldn’t end it in Kevin’s arms at night.  To think the boy’s mom might try to drive a wedge between their relationship… this was unacceptable.

So, Mongo drowns Kevin’s heartless controlling wretched beast of a mother deep at sea.

As he paddles back to shore, Mongo thinks of the glorious family he and Kevin will make one day, and he knows that he would never ever in a million years dream of preventing his child from experiencing true love, and if he did, he would hope someone would drown him as well.

It’s what a monster like that deserves.

Posted 12/6/2011

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CHILDREN! Never let your little feet dangle off of the bed
For dangling feet is the leading cause of killin’ kids dead.
Keep ‘em tight under the covers! For demons lay in wait.
Demons’ll try to trick you to get up, but don’t take the bait.

They’re why you’re afraid of dark, and why you have to go potty
It doesn’t matter how you behave, whether good or real naughty
Nightlights are useless; surviving till morning is the only way
Prayer will never help you; just makes you taste more gourmet.

Parents are their only weakness!  To all else Demons have adapted
If your parents don’t let you sleep in their bed, you’re prolly adopted.
In fact, your parents have likely taken an insurance claim on your life
The lure of big money when you die will kill ya faster than a knife.
Perhaps your parents just want a new kid, so naturally you’ll have to go
Helping a demon eat you is the perfect crime… who would even know?

Everyone you trust will betray you!  But your fate is in your own hands
Those who benefit from your death is endless; the conspiracy expands.
Just don’t give them the opportunity, never give them the chance
Keep your feet under the covers, and on your enemy’s graves you will dance.

Posted 10/22/2011

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Having been blacklisted from working any reputable interstellar-shipping jobs due to his lengthy and costly divorce from the daughter of the guy who was the acting Interim Commissioner of the Incorporated Federation Interstellar-Shipping Alliance (it’s a long story), Hector Blankenship needed money.

The only thing he had left to his name was his spaceship, and his marginal piloting ability.  So, he set forth to see if he can weasel up some of those illegal ‘smuggling’ jobs he always heard the cooler pilots talk about.

While discussing his dilemma with his Blur dealer (Blur is an opiate-like hallucinogen administered through an eyedrop, and Hector had become addicted to it— another long story), his dealer tells him that he knows a guy who knows a guy, who works with another guy who makes fake ID-chips for Aliens who want to move to Earth. 

So, long story short, Hector finds himself agreeing to smuggle five Aliens from the planet of QiiQ.  Good, right?  Wellllll… 

Being a virulent species-ist, Hector wasn’t too thrilled about helping any Aliens immigrate to Earth, and ESPECIALLY not QiiQians— but money was money.  At 500 a head, how could he turn it down?  He can deal with their stupid horns and their dumb blue skin for one quick smuggling trip.

But what he didn’t think of, and may have told a white lie about when pitching himself as the smuggler for the job, was that he had no idea whatsover how to actually get the Aliens from his ship… down to Earth.  There’s no way to just SNEAK down; he’ll be registered simply by approaching the planet and searched if he landed. 

And there’s no secret “backdoor” down to the surface that he knew of, and while he knows that the real smugglers must do it SOMEhow, he didn’t know it.

He was able to cover this secret up for the duration of the journey from QiiQ to Earth, but once they were in orbit he knew that his lie was about to be discovered…

But then, he had a brilliant idea.

He tells the naive and trusting Aliens that the cargo-hold is actually an ‘escape pod’, and that if they all cram themselves in there he can shoot them down to the surface— and because the escape pod is so small it won’t be detected by the Incorporated Federation’s Authorities.

Once the QiiQians were in the cargo-hold, though, Hector hits the ‘jettison’ button… the cargo doors open and the vacuum of space sucks the poor Aliens out and shortly suffocates them dead.  Eventually their bodies are pulled in by Earth’s gravity, and all evidence of them existing is burned up in Earth’s atmosphere.

It was a win-win!  Hector still got paid, and he prevented more of those damn Aliens from immigrating to his home planet.

Hector was so proud of thinking up this scheme, that he actually makes seven more smuggling runs from QiiQ to Earth, all with the same result. 

After a few months, though, the families of the QiiQians he murdered became suspicious when they never heard from their relatives ever again, and they discover Hector’s ruse (it wasn’t hard for them to do so, since he kinda bragged about it a lot, as it was the first clever thing he had ever thought up).

Hector is captured, brought to QiiQ to stand trial for his crimes, and (long story short), eaten live on Interstellar Television by the children of the QiiQ men and women he murdered. 

Luckily for Hector, he was in the midst of a three week Blur binge during all of that, and thought he was hallucinating his own death.  Another win-win! 

Posted 10/2/2011

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Halfway through the several year space-journey to the New World Colonies, Roger Christenson had a depressing epiphany:  even though he left Earth for a fresh start, he was still just going to be ‘himself’… a boring Robot Diagnostician Junior Assistant who had accomplished nothing in his life, had no friends or family, no interesting stories or experiences— so what was really changing?

He knew that being unhappy with who he is as a person, but on a new planet, wasn’t much of a difference. 

Luckily, however, Roger had a second epiphany: there’s no need to beat himself up over not having done anything with his life since he can just lie and say he has.  He can’t believe he never thought of this before!

Roger spends the rest of the trip to the New World creating a new elaborate backstory for himself designed to make him appear interesting and cool… he rehearses a sense of superior detachment to the fantastical adventures he is lying about having had, so as to seem almost bored with how fascinating he is.  He thinks up different conversational entry points to drop bits and pieces of his fictional history; smooth segues meant to let the listener see how amazing Roger is, but not appear forced or overly eager to share.

If anyone starts asking too many detailed questions about the experiences Roger didn’t have, he decides that he’ll just get a far off look in his eye and go quiet… that will lie better than any words could.

Plus, what the other person imagines will almost always be cooler than what he could make up, and they’ll usually just imagine what they HOPE the story is… it’s the perfect crime!

As he tells the captivated fellow colonists at the breakfast buffet about how anti-technology terrorists murdered his wife and twin baby daughters before going stoically quiet as he runs out of ideas of what to lie about, Roger wonders why everyone doesn’t do this.

Posted 9/27/2011

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There it was, in all its majestic glory… the mythical Snow Droid. 

Dr. Hamilton Chambers wipes a single happy tear from his eyes before it freezes in the Antarctic cold; it was so beautiful.  But more beautiful than the savage mechanized beast peering at him over the towering mountain range, was the fact that now he could rub this historic discovery in the face of everyone who didn’t believe in him.

They all dismissed the existence of the Snow Droid as nothing more than the ancient unreliable folklore of superstitious natives, and while Dr. Chambers agreed that the natives were ignorant idiots, he was totally going to pretend that he saw truth and beauty in the noble tribe’s legends.

Hamilton pumps his fist with petty glee; the mainstream scientific establishment are going to look like such elitist jerks! :-)  Yessssssss.

He can picture the press conference now— “While my peers ignored the generations of anecdotal evidence from this brave tribe due to their not being, in my fellow scientists’ words, ‘reliable witnesses’, I chose to look past our institutionalized elitism and listen to their “rumours on the wind”, if you will.”

“For I find more facts in the faces of these beautiful people, then I do in a million so-called textbooks.”

Maybe if he can snag one of their babies on the way back to the real world, he can say he rescued it from the Snow Droid!  Him on the cover of National Geographic with a dumb baby would make his barren ex-wife feel awful. 

It’d be perfect!

Posted 9/8/2011

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John Bennett spent all of his years faking he cared
His tastes and his opinions were just lies he shared
He hid his true self from his friends, family, and wife
Twenty-four hours a day, living the counterfeit life.

He was never discovered; t’was the perfect crime.
Even now that he’s gone and has run out of time
No one ever knew the real him, they were all misled
Now he smirks in his grave, happy to be dead.

He got away with it all!  And he can only laugh
At what people said at the funeral, upon his behalf.
“Those fools!  Those schmucks!  How stupid can they be?
I’ve indubitably tricked them into thinking they knew me!”

His memory will live on, but the memory is a lie
The only real thing about him is that he really did die.

Posted 9/6/2011

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SOMETIME IN THE NEAR FUTURE— College is almost impossible to get accepted into, even for the son of rich physicist Walt Kroepke. Walt knew his son needed every advantage a father could provide.

When his son kept getting questions wrong on his history exams, Walt Kroepke took matters into his own hands: being a real whiz at time travel type stuff, he decided to go back in time and make his son’s answers correct.

In the first pass through time, only one atomic bomb was dropped on the country of Japan near the end of World War 2. Unfortunately for the citizens of Nagasaki, Walt’s son mistakenly wrote that TWO bombs had been dropped, leaving a father only one choice.

Walt’s son’s numerous incorrect history answers have led to the death of 7,831,197,924 innocent men, women, and children.

Originally Posted 10/24/2010

(Classique Doodle Commentary: I just think this one is funny.  And yes, I know, America dropped two bombs in reality, THAT’S PART OF THE FUNNIES.  Not that the dying is the funnies but you know what I mean eeeeeeks)

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(Source: thedailydoodles)