Friday — February 26th, 2010
Well, there you have it. Do not be alarmed or dismayed however. This is most certainly not the “End” of Boodachitaville- rather it is the end of an era within Boodachitaville. See, we have faithfully been providing you, the reader, with free comics every friday for two full years now. And now, we (or I rather, as Bob will continue to post his weekly rants in the Blog section) must take a hiatus.
During the quote-”hiatus”-unquote, I plan on compiling our second book for sale later this year and hope to post occasional WIPs on the site, so keep your eyes peeled. Bob and I also have some potential future creative excursions we may also explore within the Boodachitaville universe in the near futures as well.
What I can say is that the adventures of Bob and Eric throughout Boodachitaville will return someday, though in what form or fashion has yet to be determined. Exciting things are on the horizon here, but the horizon may just be quite a ways off for now, so don’t hold yer breath 
One of the ways you can keep your ears peeled for future developments is to become a “fan” on our Facebook fan page or become a loyal, devoted “follower” of us on Twitter and you will surely be one of the first to know what new goings on may be afoot here in B’ville. Until then- I trust you all will obsessively re-read through all of our past comics as if they were new again
Seacrest… err… Eric Out.
February 26th, 2010
It is amazing the things we do.
I’m not talking about doing something extreme. Most people with half of a brain know that people are capable of doing extraordinary and extreme things if given the proper motivation. I’m talking about how the stories of our lives play out and about how no matter 
what you expect to happen you will always get a few curveballs thrown to you.
Now there ain’t no reason to resent the fact that life has unexpected twists and turns. Sure, most of the time the unexpected is seen as bad but mostly it isn’t. A lot of times it is better than the expected. Most of the time it is just the same as what was gonna happen, just different. And to get caught up in how things happened that we didn’t expect or want is just about as arrogant a thing as can a body can do. (I do it all the time but that is fine for me because I am better than you.) That means we think of ourself as having some kind of right to determine what will happen in this life, and that would make us some kinda god or something because only the divine has the right to control all aspects of life. Being just little old mortals means we gotta role with the punches, cause that what mortals do.
Point is Lennon was right when he said life is what happens when you’re making other plans.
I never really planned on writing no blog or comic or nothin’. But I’ve done it because if I didn’t Eric wouldn’t lay off about it and I’d never get a moments peace. And it has been infuriating. And frustrating. And exhausting. And fun. Not a lot of fun. Obama and the Olympics saw to that. But it was kinda fun.
Anyways, Eric and I are gonna take a bit of a break. Life and stuff kinda has got in our way a bit. We both got things we gots to do and projects we’re working on. But things aren’t quite over here. Least not yet. It is gonna get more sporadic though. But I promise you I ain’t done here.
I still got that one blog to write about that one thing. You know. Monkeys. With Jetpacks. Yeah. Monkeys with Jetpacks.
So when it is time to write that or some other thing I’ll see you guys again.
Till then,
-Bob
February 19th, 2010
I envy those of you who simply read this blog and are not forced to write it. If I were in your shoes and I knew what I did to make this blog come together every week I don’t know if I could stand to read it. I doubt very much I could read this knowing what I had to put myself through so that I could write something for me to chuckle at and forget about because the things I’ve seen while researching this for me are so terrible I’d wish I’d never known what I’ve done. The horrors I put myself through for me would suck all of my joy out of what I made for me.
It is true.
In order to bring the hard hitting and insightful bloggery that you expect every Friday I am often subjected to the most base and perverse features of the world and web around me.
And while I find the taboo subjects brought out here for peer review and wide spread dissemination so important to Man’s Eternal Pursuit For Truth that I continue willingly to risk life, limb, and lucidity in their pursuit I also fear that what is revealed herein may be too much for many to handle. In fact what I am compelled to write about to you, oh Loyalest of Readers, is often produced in so shocking and disturbing a manner that said tale may not be fit for consumption by the young and women who are soon to be mothers, may soon become soon to be mothers, or just recently were soon to be mothers. For example,
(Please, if you have a heart or kidney condition, look away. Now.
You have been duly warned.
Are you certain you want to know this?
Alright.
Be prepared. Here goes; )
While searching for leads and information that may generate a gret
For example tonight while reading about the latest news in cinema I found a thing called “Zoobie Doobie”. I won’t embed it for you, mostly because that feature is disabled but also because what you see there might be more than could be handled by any mind. So you’ll have to go to youtube and look it up yourself.
It haunts me. Let it be when I tell you that no one in there right mind would have ever conceived of something like this. But I can’t even describe what I saw so how can I share it? There was noise, yes. But no one seen was making the noise. And many colors. Colors not meant to be seen by mortal man.
It makes no sense! What I have seen makes no sense! Even by the admission of one who claims to understand it, there is no meaning to be found! It is all just nonsense!
It is almost like something off of… “Lost.”
-Bob
February 12th, 2010
Last year I shared with you all how I loved St. Valentine’s Day. The emotional pain and neediness that are the twin pillars of St. Valentine’s Day are a delight to observe. Indeed, the desperation and sorrow that seems to fill the air every February 
14th is like a savory aroma filling my oft-flaring nostrils.
If that was not good enough, every year as St. Valentine’s Day approaches I get to witness the carefully targeted marketing campaigns trying to convince terrified and confused men to buy something, ANYTHING, I-know-that-thing-on-TV-right-there-that-will-make-her-love-me, to keep their woman happy. Sometimes that means seeing overpriced teddy bears peddled on the premise that deep down inside every woman is still 7 years old (which is probably true). Sometimes that means hearing a voice actress whose agent bills her voice as “sensual” insinuate things about handmade chocolate covered strawberries that have nothing to do with the eating berries. And very often it means being told that the one sure way to get a woman to “snuggle” with her husband is to be given more underclothes she had not bought herself or pajamas in a box. But all the time it means seeing that manipulating St. Valentine’s Day and its accompanying psychological baggage is a great way to make money. And I love that.
To make things even better the clouds of despair that hover so thickly around so many single people that they couldn’t see a tractor trailer bearing down on them at 5 miles an hour. The wailing that their lonely little hearts make whenever they see a pink heart or a cutout Cupid can be heard for miles around!
All of this appeals to my coal black heart. Why? Because I love the pain of our existence! And I will not tolerate anything interrupting my schadenfreude!
So this year should be a bit of a disappointment what with this year’s St. Valentine’s Day falling on Sunday, the least romantic and most easily ignored day of the week. No one likes to go do stuff Sunday night, what with work starting again the next morning. Some people will say that is okay and that they can just celebrate St. Valentine’s Day earlier on, like on Friday or Saturday. And that is just stupid. Regardless of what anyone says Sunday will be St. Valentine’s Day and everyone will feel the weight of all of the expectations their sweetheart, society, and they have for themselves and their love life on that night.
Sunday is also very often a night for church to shield their emotions from the importance they place on one day of the calendar. Many people who go to church will be able to use their religious devotion to justify failing in their societal;y imposed romantic duties. So that should be bad for me right?
Wrong. Wrong because the one rival for my love of existential pain is a love of self-delusion and willful hypocrisy. And that is something which this particular St. Valentine’s Day will provide in spades!
Usually people can’t help but be overcome by the gravity of St. Valentine’s Day’s obligations. But with even one simple tool, in this case the falling of St. Valentine’s Day on an unfortunate day of the week, most people are going to be able to trick and manipulate themselves into believing that they are not culpable for failure to meet their obligations to their sweety and to themselves.
Can’t have dinner with your love? Who is open after 8 on a Sunday!
Forgot that St. Valentine’s Day was today? Buy a gift tomorrow and lie about the gift not shipping in time!
No St. Valentine’s Night hanky-panky? Well you’ve got work in the morning and it is gonna be a long week.
No date? Who does things on a Sunday?
The important thing is to find a reason around the beliefs that you unquestioningly hold dear without actually rejecting them.
So go out there, work yourself into a tizzy, and lie to yourself! I know you can.
-Bob
February 9th, 2010
Check out this brilliant new webcomic. It is beatifully laid out and illustrated, but the story and dialog is all written by a five year old! Genius stuff here: http://www.axecop.com
–Eric
