I don’t want to reminisce too much or be overly sentimental–mostly because I’m a bitter human being with little to no emotional attachment to anything past, present, or future on this godforsaken planet–but today’s comic marks our 100th edition of Pop and Ice Cream (we didn’t count Kari Cherry or Napkin Comics or Stick Figure week) and, as you can tell, we didn’t do anything special. Why? Because you guys don’t deserve it. Maybe if you were a better audience, we would have made something more special, something really epic or funny. But we didn’t, because you guys really don’t care; which is fine, because I don’t like you either. We make the comics, you read them: really there should be no mutual respect between us. If anything, there should be animosity, which I like to think we breed every time we make a comic.

Basically what I’m trying to say is I don’t like you and I don’t like that I have to make these comics every week. It actually kind of sickens me to think that we’ve made a 100 of these pieces of crap already, and the fact is we probably won’t be stopping anytime soon, which makes me want to put a bullet in brain. Thoughts of suicide plague me just about every night now. “Would it be funny if JD Salinger was in heaven? But then when he’s there, he shares too much on Facebook…or something…you stupid piece of shit! That’s not funny!” A brief glimpse into my existence.

So now, a 100 comics in, all I really know for sure is that I can’t tell any of the jokes we’ve already done. Everyday it gets harder and harder to be funny. Everyday I get closer to my own death. I stare at four empty panels and I face my own mortality. I scream. Nothing comes out. I’m drowning. I’m drowning.

100 comics.

-Evan Mudryk, writer and co-creator of Pop and Ice Cream

This entry was posted on Tuesday, February 9th, 2010 at 3:23 pm and is filed under Post. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.