By Cory Doctorow at 5:00 pm Fri, May 10, 2013
Rawr & Stuff's alternate crayon colors are pretty much shovel-ready -- you could clean up by selling these on Etsy. I'm very fond of "Moral Ambiguity Gray," myself.
This reminds me of this Perry Bible Fellowship comic.
Nice one, beat me to it.
Gritty? So, what do you erase them with? Blocks of paraffin?
I am so hating the bulimia “joke.”
Yea, I want to share this with my teen son, except I really don’t want to have to explain autoerotic asphyxiation.
But the rest of it is ok? I’ve had a pretty full life so far, and have never even heard ONE first or second or third-hand account of autoerotic asphyxiation. To me it is a myth. (Not that some myths aren’t true). Maybe it is a teaching moment?
My friend’s brother died of autoerotic asphyxia when he was 14ish, in the early 1970s.
David Carradine. Now you have.
Well, here’s the abstract of a recent study on it:
Apparently it’s less common than previously thought (at least in Alberta), but still happens.
A close friend of mine in Japan died of autoerotic asphyxiation mere months after a small group of us were talking about it and how it seemed like a really crazy (as in crazy bad) idea.
Well if you have the coloring book version of the “Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders” it could come in very handy.
Why? You got a story? Tell it.
I don’t even think I get the joke. How is bulimia green?
Agreed. It’s the weakest one. I would have chosen Submerged Corpse green…they can get mossy under there.
I saw a short horror film a few years ago. The main character was bulimic. She said that she would eat salad first. Then, when she would force herself to vomit, she would stop when she saw green. It was a signal that she ejected the high calorie parts of the meal. The movie was really disturbing on all sorts of levels. I think Joe Bob Briggs played her abusive husband.
It’s kind of funny. I have not experienced existential anguish since I was 6 years old, when I solved my personal existental and solipsistic dilemmas.
I got separated from my parents in an airport. Was sent to the lost and found, and reunited with them. But I didn’t know whether to trust that they were my parents, or just people who look like them, and had things that looked familiar, and livied in a similar house as the one I did previous to my separation.
My eventual solution was that my imagination and memory couldn’t simultaneously be so surprisingly original and perfectly identical as the situations and personalities as my home and family (simultaneously).
It took me until I was ten years old to figure this out. And I still find it satisfying today. If I take “I think, therefore I am” as my only assumption, then the ability to learn precludes my own mind as the progenitor of my own observed universe.
That bong-water brown one needs to be WAY darker, and grosser.
I guess the manic depression crayon would be half red and half blue?
Bong Water Brown — hah! Encyclopedia’s older brother. Hangs out in the basement listening to the Floyd.
Google Ninja Time…
what looks to be the source
Would nihilism be translucent?
The black and grey mad me laugh out loud.
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