I Yam What I Yam, And That’s All What I Yam

Quick, you Fancy Bastards! You have less than 24 hours to hide from your miserable families! NO! Don’t hide there! That’s the first place they’ll look! Make haste! Burry yourself under a mountain and wait out the forced interaction with people you moved extremely far away from as soon as you had the means!

HijiNKS ENSUE British Knights Shirt at Topatoco I am officially starting “The War On Thanksgiving.” For starters I’m taking out the “Thanks” because to assume everyone you encounter is of the Thankful persuasion is bigoted and small minded. Feel free to use my newly coined phrase “Xgiving.” You may also wear buttons or ribbons that say “NO THANKS.” If nothing else this will at least confuse your relatives and keep them from talking to you over this long and arduous weekend of feigned interest, false pleasantries and familial responsibility.

NEWS: Holiday Shipping deadlines for the HE Store have been posted. PURCHASE! PURCHASE EVERYTHING NOW AND ALSO FOREVER!

COMMENTERS: Fill in the details of the first Hobo Thanksgravy story or any Thanksgravv tale thereafter. Also, over the holiday weekend you may post your “War on Thanksgiving” thoughts on Twitter with the #xgiving and #nothanks hash tags.

The Special Sauce

I just can’t seem to remember to cancel my Black Friday sale in the HE Store. I sure hope no one is in the mood for savings, because they could really take advantage of my forgetfulness. If someone wanted to know more about the fantastic savings or the new products (including the first ever HE Button Pack!) I suppose they could click HERE.

If you celebrated Thanksgravy this year I hope it was both gluttonous and slothful. Mind was both as is evidenced by my massive hangover. Well, I’m not sure if you call it a hangover when you’re talking about pie but you get my drift. Conventional wisdom would say you can avoid pain the next morning my alternating pumpkin and chocolate pecan pie every half hour. My experiments prove this to be false and delicious.

The more I learn about Hobo Thanksgiving traditions the more fascinated and repulsed I am. I mean I am literally dry heaving with Hobo holiday knowledge and cheer. Did you know the King of the Hobos pardons one “gravy rat” each year? It’s really just a symbolic thing  because as soon as the rat escapes seven or 40 hoboes pounce on it with rusted cutlery that once belonged to a Denny’s. They are a proud and majestic people. I also learned that you can make Hobo Rat Gravy by stuffing a rat into a milk jug, adding equal parts grain alcohol and windshield wiper fluid and fast-aging it near a burning trash can. After a few hours you just add coffee grounds to taste and serve over… well, everything.

You may notice that this comic is going live severely after Thanksgiving. Go ahead. Notice it. I won’t punish you. That’s because I chose to spend the thankful times with those which I am most thankful for: my wife and daughter. Now that we’ve all had enough of each other I can return to those which I am second most thankful for: you guys. You magnificent Fancy Bastards. You may be second in my heart but you will always be first in my something something.

Josh Smash!

I’ve spent the last 3 days or so working non stop on “The Vault of Secret Awesome.” At one point today I said, “wait… I actually have to make the comics or there won’t be any comics.” Let me tell you, this job would be easy if it weren’t for all the comics. I could just sit back and collect delicious internet monies. So delicious.

This comic is as close as I can get to talking about “The Incredible Hulk” since I haven’t seen it yet. Granted, that has never stopped me before, but I actually plan to see this one. Eli says it’s pretty good. Regarding Josh’s pigmentation,  I suppose the hyper-gravy-ation turns the skin green. Why not?

In real life Josh has an “in” with a Popeye’s chicken employee that owe’s him a life debt. Much like Angel and his butcher friend, Josh sneaks in the back of the restaurant and Hector loads him up with life giving gravy… and probably some pig’s blood too.

My comment challenge to you: what else might one order off the menu at “Cluck-U-Chicken“?

(Thanks for your patience with the late comics and such while I’m getting the foundation poured for this webcomic empire. Your comments and emails of support are extremely helpful.)

Happy Thanksgravy!

You know as well as I do that it’s got nothing to do with the turkey. Its ALL about the gravy. I hope you are all happy and satisfied now that you’ve had two days to digest your meats and starches. My friend, Corn Mo, texted me with “I’m thankful for good times with friends and meats. Love Mo.” That pretty much sums up the holiday. That and gravy. Don’t forget the gravy. I prefer giblet gravy. You see, it’s not enough that I poor gravy on my meats. I want the gravy itself to contain its own reserve supply of meat parts.

Today’s illustration was inspired by a conversation I had with Josh, Eli and a few other friends at an OMGWTFBBQ restaurant a few weeks ago. It started with the revelation that Josh has h4x0red the normal gravy supply regimen at Popeye’s Chicken. Where as they would normally give him one gravy and one dipping sauce with his chicken fingers, he has perfected a script that allows him, through trickery, to forsake the dipping sauce for an additional serving of gravy. I think puppy-dog eyes and whimpering are involved.

We postulated that he should just ask for a jumbo drink cup (think 32oz or more) then demand it be filled with their finest gravies. A kingly proclamation to be sure.  Then the conversation devolved into lunacy when I concocted a rediculous scenario where the Gulf Coast was decimated not by a female hurricane but instead by some sort of fanciful gravy tsunami. The only solution being to fly Josh in by emergency ROFLCOPTER with an ample supply of biscuits to “sop up” the devastation.

I think we ended it on the (very real) possibility that Josh could be convinced to do gravy shots. He emailed me the proof the next day.


“Love that gravy from Popeye’s!”