Stew Miller Musings and Rants
I Complain (Oh, and Doodle), You Read and/or Comment, Everyone is Happy… IT’S SO SIMPLE!


In case you missed the memo, I’ve moved Blog Sites. This one will be active for a while until I can pack up my words and scoot. But, to see the new digs, head here:

A New Blog will be up there tomorrow and the comic will continue undaunted on Sunday.




Believe it or not, there are certain kids out there who rival even our own when it comes to incredibly inane stunts. No, seriously, there are… stop laughing. Look, so Charlie, Simon and I go to Charlie’s buddy, Grayden’ birthday party today and, as any cool kid will have, it was STAR WARS themed. Basically the idea was for anyone who felt like it to come in costume and have a blast. Get it, blast? Sorry. Anyway, so Charlie wore just his cloak from his past Halloween costume where he dressed as Luke Skywalker. He would have worn the entire ‘sweat suit’ get-up but it was something like 170 degrees this afternoon and I’m relatively certain he’d have melted on the spot. So he and Simon gathered up all of their Lightsabers, four in total, and the blaster we own and we headed out. The party was really cool; Star Wars this and that all over the joint including games, mock battles, and Jar Jar Binks showing his dumb-ass face to ruin the works… just kidding. So, back to the point here, Grayden’s little brother was yanking on some streamers that hung from this Darth Vader pinata, which I had no idea wasn’t the typical smash-with-a-stick style, and, as luck would have it -just as his gramma was alerting his dad to the situation- he yanked the ‘rip cord’ and like a gushing fountain of sparkles, confetti, and trinkets, the disk ripped open dousing the hapless 1 1/2 year old in shrapnel. It was hysterical. I missed snapping a picture by mere seconds or else we’d have had a prize winner. Adding insult to injury, the boy has quite the nest of curly hair and every bit of that foil and paper bits tangled itself into his coif. Just awesome. Fortunately everyone laughed so it was cool and Grayden’s parents just went on with the party nonplussed.

So, back at the homestead it turns out that mom taught Addison how to perform the classic child’s game, Ring Around The Rosie. I guess, as Addison is wont to do, she repeated ad nauseum until she became relatively adept at it and requested it by name time and again. Oh, what does she call it, you ask? Well, Macaroni All Fall Down, obviously. It seems lately Addy has been talking like a four-year old and, consequently, asking for things like one, too. She has a list of favorite books that either feature colors or counting. The collection includes a Zoo Animal Counting book that she refers to as, ‘Two Hippos’ (the second page, and, as it seems, her favorite), she has Brown Bear, Brown Bear that she affectionately calls, ‘Bowber Browber’ (the title in fast speak, I guess), a farm counting book that she’s named, ‘Cock Da Do Do’ (rooster call, you see), and a book about colors called, ‘Red-Blue’. Listening to her is like nothing I have ever heard before since I’m pretty sure that neither of the boys had no where near the vocabulary that Addy sports. Maybe it’s just the ‘girls maturing faster’ deal, or, she is the smartest child in the universe and one day will rule the cosmos as Brilliant Babe… unless she poops, then no one’s going to listen to her.

Charlie had his first day of Kindergarten today (*CHOKE*) and it was just an orientation and a meet-and-greet type deal. He has a few kids in his class from his Young Fives last year and he really dug that. But, as he says, he wants to make new friends and play Star Wars with them. I told him that not every boy his age is into those movies (see: Dan the Man, my buddy Doug’s kid) and he looked at me and asked me why. I honestly couldn’t think of a decent answer so I just shrugged and said that they were deprived children whose parents kept them tied up in an attic. He laughed and said they were stupid. Yeah, maybe. Anyway, as we were coming out of the classroom and walking down the hall, Charlie had to pee. I led him into the bathroom and hung out as he did his thing. Well, I happened to glance at the wall and saw a Tampon dispenser. I shrugged a little, and then realized, through the fog of utter stupidity, that we were in the chick’s lavatory. I told Charlie to hurry up since we were peeing in the Girl’s Room and he said, “So.” Yeah, well, what if a gaggle of gals came wandering in and saw your John Thomas swaying in the breeze? We hurried and got out and I asked him if he knew we were in the wrong head. He said he’d never used it before. It dawned on me then that all the Kindergarten and Young Fives classes have inner-class stalls. Made sense. Oh well, I guess he’ll know better next time. Or, walk in and drop his drawers to a flock of flustered females. Maybe he’ll land one.

I’m fairly certain Simon is on the fast track to bodily harm and potential brain damage. He jumps off of everything: furniture, tables, the balcony… kidding. Sure, he’s rigid and nigh-invulnerable but I’d rather not send a Forrest Gump to Headstart. Maybe one day he’ll be a linebacker, a daredevil, a stunt man, or in traction, but for now, I’d so rather he not tempt fate by leaping from the top of a chair to a solid wood coffee table. He has no fear and, well, I do. I can see it now: Simon laid up at Bronson, again, with four legs of a metal folding chair jutting from his ass as he grins and explains that he was just, ‘flipping’. Oh, and he’s also 36. It’s going to happen, I’m sure of it.

Oh well, I have to go, Charlie has his pants off. Later.



Well, episode five. Sort of a mini-milestone, don’t ya think? I’ve really gotten myself used to working on this comic. In fact, just so you know, I pencil on Wednesday nights, and ink Thursday through Saturday evenings for as long as it takes to finish. I scan it into Photoshop on Sundays, and color and put the wording in then, too. And now, it’s on to the viewers. In this issue, the Dundering Duo find themselves a new ‘houseguest’ and, well, things of an odd nature take place. Oh, and it say ‘To Be Continued’ at the end, and, in this case, it will be but you’ll have to head on over to my weekly mini featuring the reasonable facsimiles of these two (and more) to find out! The link is on the right side of the page under ‘Boner And Punkin Mini’ or else, here:

Thanks for reading and enjoy!


COmic 5


Ha! Get it? It’s a joke son, cuz it’s not Thursday! Okay, it’s also not especially funny, either, sorry. So, since I honestly can’t think of one cohesive thought to turn into a single, lengthy subject, I figured I’d just take the cop-out approach and just slather the blog with little crumbs as I wander through the Woods of Writing much akin to Hansel and Gretel. But, as the story goes as well, I’m sure I’m going to get eaten by a big old witch at the end… well, almost.

Every night we get a series of phone calls from a series of people we have absolutely no intention of ever speaking with. No, none of them are bill collectors or bounty hunters or anything, just a random batch of companies who generally choose to opt out of leaving a message. Hey, I’m cool with that, believe me, the fewer annoying voices on my machine the better. But, I would kind of like to know exactly who it is I’m currently ignoring. Well, either way, here is a comprehensive list of the calls we receive nightly directly from my caller i.d. library: UPGRADE NOW (not too sure who this could possibly be with the area code 702, but whatever they intend on upgrading I can honestly assume doesn’t really need it), ESM (with the 386 area code I am pretending it stands for Elephantine Scrotum Massagers and since I have not that, I need not them), AWARDS DEPARTMENT (coded from the 414 location I can safely assume that whatever award this company is holding for me, they can get their collective asses of the phone and deliver it to me post haste), and PRODUCT DEVELOPMENT (313 area code. I think these folks are calling to finally get my input on that electric corn de-kerneler for the dinner table… Oh I hope so!) That’s only a few but none of them have ever left even a name. Oh well, I suppose I’ll just have to go on imagining things.

Secondly I am getting so, so exhausted by these sales that occur at my local grocery promoting a certain product being on sale presumably due to the fact that they are way overstocked and then, the shelves are barren when I arrive. Take for instance our Meijer location has had toddler shoes up for sale for nearly two weeks now and I check each and every time I’m there for a simple size 5, and the lying bastards are completely out. Oh sure, they have oodles of every other conceivable size ranging from infant 1’s all the way to Frankenstein 12’s., but the one size I need for my daughter, a damn FIVE is always out. So, what, did every other parent currently clothing a toddler make a run to acquire size FIVES before the inevitable growth spurt hits? Someone tell me something before I track down a stock boy and smack him with a shoe sizer.

Have you seen those gut-wrenchingly irritating ads featuring the AllTell fellow named Chad and his for freakish friends from the other phone services? Oh sure you have, the new batch features the big fat guy asking if they ought to have a butter eating contest and then the skinny buck-toothed jackass of the bunch checks the AllTell website featuring the good-guy Chad? Mom hollers down and bucky says, “Mom, we’re in the MANCAVE!” provoking the others to comment on his hot mother? Look, these were slightly funny at the onset like late last year, but now I’d rather have to consume a bowlful of broken light bulbs than hear another one of these. I think I need to go on a pilgrimage to find the numbnutts who wrote these travesties and choke him to death with a PHONE CORD!

Finally, not so much a complaint as an observation. I have completely rearranged my diet of late to include much more healthy items including my new best friend: flax seed. Now I have to thank my buddy Doug for turning me on to this miracle food that, according to the label, is a “Miracle Food,” Wow, see? Flax can drastically help with cholesterol, it has tons of Omega-3 fatty acids, and a bunch of good stuff besides. So, the following recipe, a new breakfast regimen of mine, ought to assist you as well. Hey, it’s for the betterment of us all right? Also, it’s yummy.

1 cup 2% milk

1 tbsp vanilla

1/4 cup brown sugar

Bring all to a simmer

add 3/4 cup whole-oat oatmeal

2 tbsp ground flax seed

1 tsp cinnamon (aids in blood pressure reduction)

reduce and stir for 15 minutes until cooked and thickened

add 1 scant tbsp margarine or butter to taste

Eat heartily. SOOOOOOO filling, too!

From my hands to your eyes, live long and read on…



 Just so you all know, I will begin doing regular movie reviews for yet another site (currently I do sporadic reviews for Penguin Comics) called Askew Reviews as soon as the first free (cool) movies come in the mail. For now, here is a review of the style of film I will be watching. Enjoy. Or not… it’s up to you, I suppose.


La Noche Del Terror Ciego (The Night of the Blind Dead)

Alt: Tombs of the Blind Dead

1971 Directed by Armando de Ossorio


     I have to say, though relatively new to the foreign horror scene (okay, I’ve seen quite a few including such wonders as: ZOMBIE LAKE. Get it?), I truly enjoy the films made in Spain, Italy, and Portugal. This particular movie is no exception as, not only does it tell you right in the beginning that it is a co-created piece by both film companies from Spain and Portugal, but also the scenery right off the bat is pristine, beautiful Spanish countryside. And that, friends, is what really gives me the chills. There is just something so cerebrally ethereal about the Spanish hills, valleys, and mountains that, for some reason –perhaps it’s the filmmakers themselves- scare the boo-hoos out of me. So, for my buck, this movie is wonderful.

     Basically, a group of Templar Nights are returning from their collective tombs nightly to wreak havoc on anyone silly enough to ignore local curses and tread lightly upon the cursed ground. The nights themselves, back in the 13th century, took on a life of evil and Devil worship and scoured the countryside torturing and killing (oh, and biting repeatedly) virgins. This obviously didn’t sit well with the local populous of the time and the Spaniards strung up the Templars by their necks and watched, excitedly, as crows pecked the dying body’s eyes out. So now these skeletal remnants exit their final resting places and prey on, well, anyone, only it is now by the power of hearing alone since they are Blind Dead, got it? This, in and of itself, isn’t really all that scary except for the sheer fact that they can hear right down to your very heartbeat.

      Cut to our group of three that have decided to take a camping excursion in the Spanish hills. They hop aboard a train, which, coincidentally, slices directly through the ancient burial grounds of the blind dead without –Heaven forbid- stopping. The trio quarrel and Helen/Virginia (oddly her name changes –played by Maria Elena Arpon-) leaps from the creeping rail and escapes to cries of desperation from her friends into the haunted plains. Once within the ruins of the Templar’s past transgressions, Helen looks around, finds nothing of worth aside from a yowling cat and a bunch of broken stuff, and decides, ever so brightly, to camp out smack in the middle of blind dead alley. She is restless as, intertwined within an astounding musical score featuring echoes and moaning, the dead rise from the ground shrouded in what appears to be oily, filthy, ragged cloaks. Their skeletal faces still sprout prominent hair patches and they truly do look astoundingly freaky. The ghastly horses of the Hell-spawned eternal beings find their riders and the blind dead gallop, silently and stealthily, through the catacombs and sacred grounds. They chase Virginia (or, Helen) through the plains and finally fell her with claws and teeth.

     Throughout nearly the rest of the movie, the two remaining friends, Roger (Cesar Burner) and Betty (Lone Fleming) take it upon themselves to shirk the helpless law and locate the now-known murdered Virginia’s killers. But, the identified body in the morgue (run hysterically by the maniacal Morgue Keeper who looks amazingly like Steve Reeves –Simon Arriaga-) has returned to life and is killing on it’s own as well! In a race against time (maybe, it all seems to be within 2 days), Betty and Roger enlist the aid of a local Contraband Runner with weapons who may know a thing or two about the curse that others are unwilling to share. They all arrive on the grounds with another woman in tow and proceed to wait. Soon, as the bells sound eerily, the blind dead rise again and slowly, methodically, on silent hoof beats, slaughter the group of four save for our new hero, Betty.

     In true horror form, Betty escapes while attempting to be as silent as humanly possible, and tries desperately to make it to the train chugging along just a few yards away. The tension mounts, and boy does it, as the engineer stops the train to offer assistance. Will Betty Make it? Like I’m going to spoil this fabulous ending. Go out and get your own copy. It is well worth it and you will, as long as you enjoy European Horror, be so glad you did. Big kudos for this one.


Stew Miller