Our pal on the Tweeters Robert Brian L. West @BigBWest posted:
Hey everybody! Here’s a Happy Birthday to Manly Matt Dow, aka
@iguanavsbeer, Interim Editor of http://momentofcerebus.blogspot.com.
Thanks Brian!
I got you a weekly update from Dave.
Dave's Weekly Update:
But that's only for Brian, everybody else press play, but mute your speakers and close your eyes.
Unless you got a birthday message for me, then feel free to watch AND listen...
_________________
If everybody who backed the Swords of Cerebus in Hell? Volume 1 hardcover Kickstarter could get their surveys in that'd make me a VERY happy Matt...
Heritage has some interesting "Dave Sim" bits (Page from issue 5, and two (count 'em) TWO! Beavers strips! And an original Diamondback deck.)
Up to 35% off site-wide:
June 11 – 12
June 23 – 27
Tell your fans! Remind them that everything will be up to 35% off -- that means $13 tees, $20 phone cases, $30 hoodies, and way more!
Next Time: Stop me if you've heard yadda yadda yadda part three.
7 comments:
Happy Birthday, Manly Matt! Fifty looks good on yer.
Happy Half-Century, Matt!!
Happy Birthday, Matt!
A day late, but happy birthday to blogmeister "Manly" Matt D. Congratulations on surviving another orbit of the sun, even if you had to stand on a planet to do it. And pow! -- yer another year removed from the power and vitality of your youth, and another year closer to your inevitable decrepitude and death. You're getting the same thing you got last year: older!
-- Damian
NOBODY loves some big black lovin’ like that mama of yours do, Anon. She put Stella Stevens to shame.
Now, go into the kitchen, son. Cut me off a piece of that birthday cake, a BIG ol’ piece. Your mama can’t resist a piece to go along with that deep DARK chocolate swirl she like for me to serve up when we get together. Her mouth keep watering up after each and every bite!
Gon’ now, son! Get to steppin!
Buddy, I have seen better jokes delivered during amateur hour at the senior home. .
“Anonymous, dressed in velvet smoking jacket and cashmere slippers, walks towards the mic during amateur hour. Anon takes a drag from his/her/their/its Chesterfield (filtered cigarettes were the sign of the apocalypse in Anon’s mind), inhales the smoke as the French do, before proclaiming in Anon’s trademark calm staccato “Brian West smells like Negro.”
Dick Cavett would have smiled, if he had been in attendance, Anon thought. Bill Buckley might have chortled at this joke if he were still alive and had been in attendance, Anon mused. Anon thinks on this as he/she/they/it is loudly booed by fellow mates at the assisted living home he/she/they/it resides in. Cavett and Buckley are the furthest things from people’s minds there. Also, the collective thought at that moment was this: Who on earth is Brian West and why should anyone care what he smells like?!”
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