Lemmy; Ghostbusters chatter


Lemmy Koopa is named after the iconic frontman of metal rockers Motörhead. Apparently, most of the Koopalings are named after famous musicians, from Beethoven to Roy Orbison. The more the you know…

Also, in my research for this 24×24″ collage (comics, magazines, a movie ticket to the new Ghostbusters movie*), I learned that the seven Koopalings (Lemmy, Larry, Iggy, Roy, Wendy, Ludwig and Morton), who originally debuted in the NES’s Super Mario Bros 3, are no longer classified as Bowser/King Koopa’s children!

I am shocked and appalled.

*TANGENT: I had time to kill, and Ghostbusters was the best option from a thin pool of viewing options. I have to say, as a silent hater every step of the way in the development of this remake, I was pleasantly surprised. The remake was good, and I laughed more than a few times. Not guffaws, mind you, but I consider a smile, or a “Heh,” a laugh.

The main villain is a guy by the name of Neil Casey, who I remember from my time studying improv at the Upright Citizens Brigade in New York City. So in a weird, vicarious way, i was a thrill for me to think it was a thrill for this guy I didn’t even actually know to be the primary antagonist in a Ghostbusters. I WOULD DO IT. And so would you.

I do think Ghostbusters ’16 should have expanded on the mythos and universe built in the first two movies, rather than reimagine it, and I’m still furious that Paul Feig so linearly gender-swapped his characters (three white scientists, one street smart black, Johnny-come-lately).

In my Ghostbusters sequel, Egon’s ghost would have been their spiritual advisor. Venkman likely would have had a daughter (probably illegitimate) involved either as a teammate, or better yet, an antagonist as the mayor’s disbelieving lackey. The cast wouldn’t have to all be the children of the original team, but SOME connection would have been a nice homage. (All members of the original cast, minus Rick Mornais, do make cameo appearances as new characters in Ghostbusters ’16.)

Anyway, good movie.

Iron Man as New Jersey

I used to be a great drinker. I don’t do many elicit or illegal or even mildly hazardous activities anymore, but I did have two glasses of wine at work just now and sweet maple syrup, do I feel wobbly. And in that time, I also painted/drew this commissioned Iron Man as New Jersey. (11×14″, watercolor and gold ink)

 Iron Man

Return of the Cereal Killer: Frosted Flakes

Let me tell you about unconditional love. I wait all year – approximately 300 days – for General Mills to release Monster Cereals into the ecosystem. I’m guaranteed Count Chocula, and I’d say that Franken Berry and Boo Berry are also safe bets. In 2013, I even got a special treat, with the re-release of both Frute Brute and Yummy Mummy.

FACT: Frute Brute and Yummy Mummy are the same flavor!

These cereals are quite possibly my favorite thing about the Halloween season. So, last week, I pour myself a bowl of Franken Berry, and my li’l partner, now two years old, begged for some “Ce-lull! Ce-lull!” So I gave her some Franken Berry, too. She ate the marshmallows only, because she is a smart kid.

And this is where unconditional love comes in. I poured that box of Franken Berry into a big mixing bowl, took out all the marshmallows, and let my daughter eat them, while I was stuck with a box of crunchy, pink, artificially flavored ghosts. That’s love.

And while that has nothing to do with this 24×24″ collage of Tony the Tiger, I just wanted to share my recent “ce-lull” story.

Moving onto Tony, this is something I conceived of maybe a month after the baby was born. So, literally, two years ago.

TANGENT: Can you believe that the dictionary caved in to the stupid sheeple of the first world and “literally” now also means “figuratively?” I’m so pissed off about this, and it’s an old story. When I use “literally,” I don’t mean “figuratively.” When I want to be explicit that something is figurative, I say, “figuratively.”

I’m glad to finally be done with this one, and I have more cereal mascots planned for the future. And yes, this is made with old comics. Sugary cereal and comic books are like the unofficial mascots of both Saturday morning and Americana. If this was an art history paper and not a blog post, I would go on for ten pages, double-spaced, about how emblematic this collage is to the American experience, a vital cog in the pop culture machine, a delicate thread woven into the largess of our decadent tapestry. But I’ll just show you the picture of my art studio instead:Tony the Tiger

22×11.5″ Avengers USA (2015)

Brand spanking new Avengers flag made from pretty much older scraps of comics I cut out over the past two years. A lot of my original flags were too loose with the lines delineating red and white, so I’m going back to fix them up, because I plan on hitting the convention circuit in 2016, and I want blow people away.

Completely unrelated, but when the first person said, “This blows my mind!” did they mean that whatever amazing thing was fellating their brain? I really want to believe that, yes, yes they did.Avengers (2015)

Also, not to bury the lead, but, AVAILABLE HERE.

50 States of Superman: Washington



Remember, the Daughters of the Atom show at One-Shot Gallery opens tonight!

Happy Father’s Day

Cut me some slack. I’ve got a baby. I just got married. We’re closing on a house. It’s the summer. I just got a cortizone shot blasted into my wrist. (That last bit makes me feel like a pro athlete.)

I painted this Adam West Batman for my dad for Father’s Day (and more important than this post, I actually got it to him on time). It resides in his sweet man cave, usurping the 800″ projector screen as the showpiece that ties the room together.


I don’t need to rehash my love for the Adam West-era Batman, or as its more recently known as, Batman ’66. But it never hurts to never forget the gummi portraits I did of the cast a couple years ago. (A COUPLE YEARS AGO???? Jesus, where does the time go?)

Kinda like my Muppet portrait series, I plan on painting all the heroes and villains from this legendary show. No timetable for completion, although once we’re settled and the baby is a little more self-sufficient (ie wipes own ass), I’ll finally have a little studio with some space to work a bunch of stuff at once. Here’s the Joker I completed a couple months ago.

In other news, it was 19 years ago today that the New Jersey Devils won their first Stanley Cup. I was there. Section 124. Row 24. Seat 4. Probably the first great night of my life. The first of many.

NJBA: Wonder Woman!


I painted this real quick as a bonus gift to the person who bought Red Fraggle. It was just a little “Thank you” to someone who has purchased a couple things from me, and supported my work for a while. I try to take care of those who take of me, and I’m a firm believer in “added value.”

Other examples of ADDED VALUE I believe in:

When I give you a $10 bill, and you give me change for a twenty. ADDED VALUE!

When I’m at a restaurant, and the waiter says, “Hey, we made this extra plate of crabcakes. Would like them?” ADDED VALUE!

When the conductor forgets to punch my train ticket, so I can use it tomorrow. ADDED VALUE!

When the baby poops, and I’m changing her diaper, and she continues to poop, which looks a lot like something slowly spitting out of the Play Doh Mop-Top Hairshop. Oh, wait, I don’t like this. Which reminds me…

And some examples of ADDED VALUE I don’t believe in:

When I buy a brand new Ford Focus with 6 miles on it, and there is a MASSIVE stain of unknown origins (from the Ultimate Warrior’s hometown, Parts Unknown) in the driver’s seat.

When I buy a brand new Ford Focus, leave the dealership, and wake up the next morning to figure out how to program some of the gadgets in the car, and I have NO OWNER’S MANUAL IN THE GLOVE BOX, so I have to pay ANOTHER visit to the dealership.

When I buy a brand new Ford Focus and drive home from the dealership after picking up the owner’s manual I never got when I actually bought the damn car, only to hear a weird beeping sound, like the gay robot from the Power Rangers, (Alpha was gay, right?) and it turns out to be a Hispanic man’s cell phone. WHY IS THIS IN MY NEW CAR? And what did you get on the driver’s seat, señor? You know where that phone is now? Wherever garbage goes when the trash man takes away the bag at the corner of 50th Street and 8th Avenue.