New Mini Comic...'Tape Song'

Last week Banjo participated in the 24 Hour Comic Day. This event takes place once a year and is held at various locations, usually comic shops, around the country. Hordes of sweaty, socially inept, basement dwelling, chronic masturbators gather together and spend 24 hours solid in a room writing and drawing a full 24 page comic in said 24 hour period. If you'd like to eat, sleep, piss, shit, fuck, or do anything other than draw a comic, you are more than welcome but you still have only the allotted time to make your little funny book.
It's a fairly absurd sort of event. By the seventeenth hour, the eighth cup of coffee in the past three hours, the ninth slice of pizza (fuck it, you've eaten a whole pie by now, a large one, don't kid yourself), the third conversation about She-Hulk and her green 'boner-licious' breasts, countless doughnuts, lack of sunlight, no sleep, and a shortage of real human interaction you really have no clue as to what the fuck is happening...and you've still got seven hours to go...and your fellow nerds are no longer talking with each other, but AT each other, all at once, rapidlyrapidlyrapidly, about nothing, nothing at all...don't forget that holding a pencil or pen at this point is a bit like trying to catch a greased-up pot-belly pig...
Thankfully, Banjo was given a small bottle of Absinthe a while back and decided this was a good enough time as any to down it...he made some new friends on that outing that helped him along his way to comic book completion...imaginary friends...
Anyways...Banjo completed a tale of ridiculous and fantastical proportions and later scribbled a cover and printed a run in Mini Comic fashion...
They look something like this...






The thing mainly stars this guy...


They're five bucks a pop and toally worth it...get one now!

Like a Graveyard Hound...

...I Say...Make me howl and moan!

Banjo decided not a bring a guitar or some OTHER such instrument with him when moving way up to the Pacific Northwest, thinking it would be a big pain the ass to travel and move around with, not to mention the preposterous amount of cash the airlines want out of your ass for taking it on the plane. And don't get Banjo started on those chumps at the post office...
Anyways, not bringing a geetar proved to be a most boneheaded idea, as Banjo quickly began longing for something to turn the back porch into a rock-rollin', foot stompin', ho-downin' of a good time. And being the cheap bastard that he is, Banjo didn't particularly want to give up a shoe-box full of clams for said good-fun-time-making-instrument.

And so, for the first time ever, Banjo built one. A four string dealio. Out of a cigar box and a plank. And some other nicknacks. It looks like this...






Somewhat rudimentary. Totally playable. Totally needing to be wailed upon. Totally awesome. An electric model will be coming soon...watch out!

...And Then Makes Some New Friends

Darnell Moves On...

The Two Month Nonsense Continued...

...this past Wednesday, as Banjo attempted to paint some records and draw silly cartoons. Success, however, was not to be found. Mismatched colors, warped records, and uneven, sketchy lines don't make for good art as far as the Banjo is concerned. And as far as he could tell, the only thing that could lift his spirits was some fucking Rock 'n' Roll. And in luck was he, cause one of Rock's most awesome bands happened to be in town that very night. These guys:


Unfortunately, Banjo didn't have a ticket. But worried not was he! For he is king of this land now. And so he set forth to procure tickets. 'Tickets' mind you, as Banjo had acquired accompaniment, of the red-haired variety, along the way. Scalpers were found, of the mustachioed and 'red' sort, tickets were obtained, of the cheaper than face value kind, and the many shades of Rock were experienced. It looked and sounded something like this:

Except, you know, it was WAAAAAY louder...
Video not by Banjo.

Some bands know how to put on a fucking amazing rock show...and some guys know how to kick the piss out of those bands and say, 'this is how you rock, dickless', and proceed to bulldoze your eardrums...the Raconteurs fall in the latter category...seriously, Jack White has two copper-plated guitars! It's Rock! What the fuck else would it be?

So, after the show was over, Banjo and Co. walked outside to find a couple dudes on the sidewalk playing a couple homemade drum sets...mostly consisting of mud buckets, bottles, and oven racks. Talk about rad as shit... A crowd gathered and a guy walked up to give the boys a couple bucks, and in the process, dropped a few bills on the ground. After waiting a few minutes to see if he noticed it, he didn't, Banjo reached over and tapped him on the shoulder. The conversation went something like this:

Banjo: hey, man, you dropped a couple bucks...
Dude: (paused, looked down, picked up the money and looked at Banjo, square in the eye) you know, brah, you a good person. most people, they see that money and they take it and run. but you didn't, you told me about it. any other city in the world and they run, but not here. and if you do that here, you don't belong.
Banjo: uh...right on, man, just looking out
Dude: no other place something like that happen, only here
Banjo: that's why we're in portland, eh?
Dude: yeah yeah, what's yer name?
Banjo: banjo
Dude: i'm twan
Banjo: pleasure
Twan: seriously, banjo, you real good people, you didn't have to do that, but you did, you made a new friend today
Banjo: actually, banjo made two...(motions to the hottie beside him)
Twan: right on. i work down at reggies barber, you come in, come find me, we'll get down.
Banjo: cool
Random Person from Crowd#1: (to banjo) i saw what you did for that man, that was so nice of you
Banjo: yeah, i know
RPC#1: you're a really good person, do you know that? you're beautiful...
Banjo: nice, thanks
Twan: she's right
RPC#2: (to banjo) dude, way to be on the look out. (to a couple people beside him) did you see what this guy did? he told that man he dropped some money instead of running off with it. what's your name?
Banjo: banjo
RPC#2: oh i love the banjo. don't you guys?
Crowd: oh yeah, the banjo is sssooooo sweet, love it, love it
RPC#2: banjo, you're the man
Banjo: yeah...all i did was tell him...
RPC#2: banjo's the man!
Crowd: yeah...yeah
Banjo: well, i do what i can
RPC#3: a saint...
RPC#2: ST. Banjo!
Banjo: hahaha...i mean, YEAH!
Twan: you're like a saint, man
Banjo: i'm a cartoonist
RPC#2: St. Banjo, bearer of cartoons, laughs...and altruism!


Then some asshole tried to steal the bucket of money from the drummers and almost got his faced kicked in. And just before Banjo was ready to spit out the Gospel too...oh well, another time perhaps.

Live Painting

So Banjo had a live painting gig on Saturday afternoon, as part of the "entertainment" section of a large North Portland bloc party called the "Proper Festival." It had something to do with at risk youths, but when prodded and probed by Banjo for information, folks couldn't seem to give the ol' boy an explanation, nor what "Proper" stood for, as it was supposedly and acronym. It was really hot all day and there was no alcohol to be found so this put Banjo in a funk. Anyways, so a bunch of us "Artists", propped our recycled doors up on a fence for some sort of sports oriented field and slung around a bunch of colors. Some of them looked like this:





This was the crowd favorite:


Throughout the day, as one might expect, there was a plethora of children. Many of them wanted to paint on doors themselves, which was highly encouraged and highly entertaining as many of the kids decided it was more fun to paint each other, the grass, or their parents. Some, however, wanted other people to paint doors for them.
Banjo had a conversation with a little boy, his name was Marvin or Melvin or Mervin or something, that went like this:

M: can I paint a door?
B: sure, just ask that nice lady over there, she has everything...
M: i want to paint Obama on it and give it to my grandma
B: i hope she likes Obama
M: she does, she wants to marry him
B: me too
M: what?
B: nothing, that's pretty cool, man, good luck
M: will you help me?
B: uh...sure, what'cha need?
M: i want to write OBAMA in big letters
B: that's it?
M: yeah...but do it with your spray paint
B: wait, you want ME to write it?
M: yeah, i can't use spray paint
B: ah, ok, so just a big Obama written on the door?
M: yeah...
B: ok, let's get a door
M: and then like a bunch of little Obama's written all over too
B: um...why can't you do that part?
M: it's gotta be done with spray paint, duh...
B: silly me
M: so can you do it?
B: yeah...i'll help get you started
M: ok, do like the big Obama and all the little ones
B: wait...
M: and then do like, his face...
B: you want me to paint his face on there too?
M: but it's gotta look real...like him...
B: some people wish that he wasn't real
M: they crazy
B: i know, right?
M: so you'll paint his face?
B: um...so lemme get this straight, you want me to write Obama real big, like the size of the door, and then write a bunch of littler Obama's all around, and then paint a life like portrait of him?
M: and a flag
B: what are you gonna do to it if i'm doing all the rest?
M: give it to my grandma
B: this deal is getting worse and worse, kid
M: but she loves Obama and i wanna give her something with him on it that i did
B: i'm still unsure of what you're actually contributing to this potential piece of art
M: i'm gonna give it to her...and sign my name
B: who're you, andy warhol?
M: who's that?
B: an artist who made a lot of money by telling a lot of people to paint a lot of pictures of soup cans and shit, and then he told everyone he painted them.
M: that sounds lame
B: it kinda was...but he was mad popular, hung out with hot girls, and awesome rock bands
M: i bet they wasn't that hot, if they liked pictures of soup
B: good call
M: so you not gonna paint this door for me?
B: i'll help you, but i won't do it for you. don't you want that satisfaction of doing it yourself and then giving it to your grandma and saying, "i did this for you"?
M: i guess...
B: besides, i still have to finish my door
M: you painted that? [see below]
B: it's not done, but i don't think i want to finish it, i think it kinda sucks
M: man, that's awesome, that purple ghost is fly, and that bomb is cool...is he dreaming or something?
B: uh, yeah actually, he's thinking or dreaming about the book he's reading
M: that's real cool, i like it
B: thanks, i dunno how to finish it though, i was thinking of writing a bunch of text over it
M: like what?
B: ...the specters of the past were buried in the sands of the arabian peninsula. or something like that
M: you sound smart
B: Extremely, cept i can't spell for shit...
M: i can't spell real good either
B: we should be friends then
M: maybe, you gonna paint obama for me?
B: probably not
M: oh...i'm gonna go ask someone else then

That old bastard 'spelling' reared it's ugly head again as Banjo misspelled 'specter' on the fucking thing. Feeling frustrated already and not really wanting to have to go back and correct, he just slapped some paint over it (not pictured) and called it a day. In the end Banjo was mildly satisfied, but more interested in finding a gin and tonic. The door got donated to a local non profit cafe...


Later, it was called the "crowed antagonizer"...

Darnell Mini Comic

As part of the "Two Month Anniversary of Banjo in Portland Extravaganza" that is bound to last until the three month mark, Banjo is kicking off the celebration with the release of his new mini comic! The first collection of Darnell, the Easter Opossum comic strips! They look something like this...



These rad little fucks are only FIVE BUCKS, each with a hand printed cover and hand numbered on the back. Pictured above is part of the first print run, the next run will have a different colored cover, blue or brown perhaps...and if you order by mail, which most of you will probably be doing, then you'll get a fancy-ass envelope that may or may not look like this...
Front

Back

ALL spelling errors will be corrected.
So drop old Banjo a line via that little link that says "other inquiries" and say, "hot damn, Banjo, I need me my comic book fix! What do I do?! What do I DO!?" and Banjo will write back and tell you, it's that goddamn easy.

There's also some extra special art in the back...ooooohhhhhhh...

Get it now! Copies are limited!

Flight of the Easter Opossum

Getting Some Closure

Darnell's Big Day

Another Darnell, just for you!

the goofy ass fanmail Banjo receives he will never understand...

More Adventures in the Rose City

Banjo headed out on the town a few nights past, looking for the cure to that which ailed him. In need was he of trouble, booze, ladies, and rock n roll. He found all at the Doug Fir Lounge. And while the booze was delicious, the ladies were scantily clad, and the air for trouble was ripe with shit-talking, he was treated to a most spectacular broke-down, raunchy, punky-blues, rock 'n' roll one-man-band performance by this guy...





Bob Log III.
"I'm Bob Log and this is my GUITAR! WOOOOOO! GODDAMN!"
And then he TORE it the FUCK UP! on his cheap guitar and foot operated drum kit. Most awesome indeed.
You can find his music here: Bob Log's Myspace Jamboree

And then the show was over. Log left. The wasted, semi-hot ladies that had once dipped their bare breasts in Log's scotch on the rocks whilst on stage, dressed and headed out as well. And so Banjo peaced. Drunk. And awesome. On his fancy bike. And with an impending voyage longer than a live Jimmy Page guitar wank-off. Dreading such an unfortunate affair, Banjo fiercely cursed the night and those that made his Italian legs so damn small. But all was well, as he discovered this magical place on the journey to his new home...



Banjo was low on cash and unfortunately not in the mood for an eight-ball, but he's glad to know such a special place exists so close to home.