Old Comics / Lost (and Found) Hard Knock
I do hope you all realize that I am not only an exceedingly busy man but also an extraordinarily fastidious one as well. If it takes me six hours to properly tie a Half Windsor knot then I will most certainly damn well take the time, your second daughter’s second wedding be damned. As I am an adult who earlier in life, wisely or not so, took on numerous adult responsibilities, I am often nowadays beset with necessary but gruelingly tedious tasks and my innate need to complete them with absolute unquestionable perfection makes them even tediouser sometimes. All of this is to say that some weeks I may not have a new post to freshen these husky, musty pages. As it stands my current rate of production is about 80 hours per Hard Cheap Knock post. So be it, I’m sure most of you readers have plenty other sites to visit, of varying levels of quality if you know what I mean, and I think you do.
Where was I? Oh yes, this. Posted herein with little hope that the average reader will experience anything beyond mild irritation I present two recently rediscovered inked pages of the old Hard Print Knock mainstay Stumps Mc Graw. That lovable everyboy with the handicap blah blah blah, discovered last night in my attic while searching by lantern for the source of what I’ve told the housekeeper countless times could be nothing other than mice. (I know a modicum of Spanish, Consuela, enough to know that el Diablo is not the word for mouse.)
I wish I could offer as an excuse for the overall unmitigated shittiness of these artifacts that they were produced during a period when I was plagued with some addiction or two but to be entirely frank with you, I just didn’t give a god damn fuck whatsoever about life. The Stumpses were my way of showing it. Fortunately for everyone I have since discovered a protege, the cartoonist prodigy Dunkin Weltfellow who lives in my building and whose work you no doubt have been poring over and maybe even getting ‘tattooed’ onto the inside of your forearms since his debut here at Hard Cheap Knock. He took over my comics responsibilities for this esteemed institution so that I could pursue more, ah, esoteric endeavors details about which I may or may not have time to reveal within these husky, musty pages.
Because these comics are illegible, below each is a transcript. Thank you and have a decent week.
Stumps Mc Graw #6 (c. 2003?)
(Editor’s Note: This installment follows the events of SMcG #5, wherein I think it was believed Stumps succumbed to something fatal. Needless to say SMcG #5 is still “lost” and if we are lucky, will remain so until the Arrival of the 12 Gram- and Grampaternal Lazer Giants and their subsequent Restructuring of Current Monetareality).
A Wretched Roll-Call Indeed
Recently in Stumps Mc Graw…
My Man Rich Believes Stumps to be Dead:
“Sniff! Even though I hated him and not because of his stump but because of his ugly personality I know that he doesn’t deserve to die.”
So does Maralin Manson:
“He deserved the same opportunity in life that non-retarded people have.”
So does Headless Komanzcki:
“We never really got along but I understand his perspective.”
So does Pussy Juice:
“I always felt he would be special and now he really is.”
So does Stang:
“Wah too bad!”
So does Fletch:
“Shit!”
So does…STUMPS!!!!
“At least I wish I was!”
End.
Stumps Mc Graw #7 (c. 2003?)
MY MAN RICH:
“Ungh ungh gang come on up to my dad’s attic & look at Playboys!!!!!!!!!
All were gonna see all afternoon is female anatomy and titties!!!!!!!!!!”
EVERYONE:
“Finally!”
STUMPS:
“Wow guys that’s right up my alley if you catch a drift!!”
Close up of Stump
MARALIN MANSON:
“Ahem beggin your pardon Stumps Shitface but the prupose of this “soiree” is to jerk it off!!!”
MY MAN RICH:
“N everybody can see you’re in no posish to do that!
Just go to the insane asylum and watch the male nurses change your mom’s diapers if you wanna see any poontang, Stumparino!!”
STUMPS:
“It’s a retirement home.”
MARALIN MANSON:
“Well you’ve successfully eliminated my boner, the both of you, with all this talk.”
STUMPS:
“Not me though!”
End.
Matthew Langland
October 20, 2016 @ 2:45 pm
Thank you Mr. Carson for another internet posting but if you put out comics I mean come on can you do something by Rackstraw Slacktrap I mean please
Bernard Carson
October 20, 2016 @ 2:48 pm
Dear Mr. Langland, thank you very much for your insightful comment. I’m packed and I’m holding I’m smiling, she’s living, she’s golden She lives for me, says she lives for me Ovation, her own motivation She comes round and she goes down on me. And I make her smile, like a drug for you Do ever what you wanna do, coming over you Keep on smiling, what we go through One stop to the rhythm that divides you. And I speak to you like the chorus to the verse Chop another line like a coda with a curse Come on like a freak show takes the stage We give them the games we play, she said…
I want something else, to get me through this Semi-charmed kinda life, baby, baby
I want something else, I’m not listening when you say good-bye
The sky was gold, it was rose I was taking sips of it through my nose And I wish I could get back there, someplace back there Smiling in the pictures you would take.
Doing crystal meth, will lift you up until you break, It won’t stop, I won’t come down
I keep stock with the tick-tock rhythm, I bump for the drop And then I bumped up, I took the hit that I was given Then I bumped again, then I bumped again.
I said… How do I get back there, to the place where I fell asleep inside you
How do I get myself back to the place where you said…
I want something else, to get me through this Semi-charmed kinda life, baby, baby
I want something else, I’m not listening when you say good-bye
I believe in the sand beneath my toes
The beach gives a feeling, an earthy feeling
I believe in the faith that grows
And the four right chords can make me cry
When I’m with you I feel like I could die
And that would be alright, alright
And when the plane came in, she said she was crashing
The velvet it rips in the city, we tripped on the urge to feel alive
Now I’m struggling to survive, those days you were wearing that velvet dress
You’re the priestess, I must confess
Those little red panties they pass the test
Slide up around the belly, face down on the mattress
One
And you hold me, and we’re broken
Still it’s all that I wanna do, just a little now
Feel myself, heading off the ground
I’m scared, I’m not coming down
No, no
And I won’t run for my life
She’s got her jaws now, locked down in a smile
But nothing is alright, alright
And I want something else, to get me through this life
Baby, I want something else
Not listening when you say…
Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye, good-bye
The sky was gold, it was rose I was taking sips of it through my nose
And I wish I could get back there
Someplace back there, in the place we used to start
I want something else
Matthew Langland
October 20, 2016 @ 2:49 pm
ok that’ll do