A life lesson from the Beta Angels.
Each week I draw your comments. Each week I get closer to death.
I'm interested to see what these comics are but my interest is definitely outweighed by my bafflement over who thought this was a great idea.
Dear VICE Commenters, I forgot to do my column last week. Did you miss me? Are you capable of missing anything? You fucking human garbage.
Some people bring one exotic pet to parties. I bring four.
Most nerdy nostalgia hounds should know a lot of this stuff, but being a nerd doesn't mean anything anymore.
Cats tend to embarrass themselves when they take gigantic doses of Xanax and Adderall and alcohol.
Don't fuck with Cyber Surfer today.
Thanks to some guy from some blog, Johnny Ryan's Sadness Meter has been brought back to life in three-dimensional glory!
About a year ago the frequency of new "Achewood" strips slowed to a trickle. Everyone with a brain was broken up and confused. Now "Achewood" has finally returned, and with it, our happiness.
Hello Print Fanciers... this one's pretty straightforward.
Has our viridescent hero, the Green Lantern, finally been defeated? Find out now, in the "Powerless Ring"!
Dear Everyone, this week I saw the "Tin Tin" movie, which turned out to be a real snoozer, and I made a list of ten good comics from 2011, even though I don't believe in lists.
Do not look directly into the swamp rat's freshly-douched vagina.
Dear Viceketeers, how was your week? Mine was fine. Here are drawings I did of the Facebook profile photos of the people who left the best comments.
This week I'm focusing my all-seeing eye on the recent releases by Brooklyn's own, Picturebox Books.
Retired prostitutes take Johnny Ryan cartoons seriously.
Enjoy the doodles, you disgusting fucking pigs.
I don't need friends because I have comics who make way better friends than a human ever could!
I hate being mean to people but you're not people to me.
I'm still locked in a Brooklyn Comics and Graphics Fest state of mind so this week I'm reviewing my con haul.
Close-up of a "serenely passed-out" Kreayshawn (after 2.5 "weed brownies," 3 beers, 60% of a 40oz, 2.5mg Xanax in a 6-hour period) with her MacBook on her face and a vaguely demonic cat staring at her.
The cure for brain cancer lives inside Jungle Man's ass.
The mystery of the disappearing gumballs.