I’ve had the idea that babies are drunk for quite some time. It’s pretty obvious. They waddle around clutching a bottle, they babble, drool, fall over. They’re wasted. But the stoner thing featured in this week’s Dustinland comic was a recent thought. I could honestly do a whole blog just dedicated to viewing toddlers are stoners. All their weird tastes, the things they say, the scenarios they imagine, their explanations for things, the questions they ask—it’s like hanging out with a bunch of college hippie bongo players. And hey, that’s pretty awesome because hippies are funny. Sure, you don’t want to count on one to not lose their boot at a Waffle House in the middle of Tennessee, causing you to drive around from exit to exit in the middle of the night on the way back from Bonnaroo (true story) but you wouldn’t want to count on a baby to drive you home either.
Posted in parenthood
Tagged alcohol, babies, dad, drinking, father, fatherhood, marijuana, parenthood, parenting, pot, smoking, toddler, toddlers, weed
Drinking and dadding (or momming). I don’t encourage it, but man, just a beer, just a glass of wine… sometimes you need it. Like I say in this week’s Dustinland comic, I never get wasted anymore—it’s just not possible these days. And that’s good, because as a parent, you probably shouldn’t be tanked around your kids. Anyway, I don’t think I can say more than I already did in the comic, and I feel like most parents are probably in the same situation I am. Oh how the days of partying are way behind us, only to be replaced by a tired one-beer Wednesday. Or maybe two.
Oh by the way, I relaunched an old Tumblr site I had going a while back as a Birdy side project. You know, since Tumblr is sort of the most important thing right now, figured I’d have some sort of presence beyond my four year old hipster comic.
Yes, I’m 35 now. Of course I hate drinking games. Well, maybe not of course, but yes, I hate them. Always have. As I said in this week’s Dustinland comic. There’s just something stupid about them. Why? Who cares? Why do I need to play a game to have a beer? Can’t we just chill out and have fun. Talk. Listen to music. Just… do stuff. I mean, that’s the whole point of drinking and drugs. They make other things way more fun.
I guess drinking games have probably gotten some people laid, so that’s good—at least, when they didn’t regret it. Aside from that, come on. Put down the ping pong ball. Grow up.
I was going to post this Dustinland last week but then the Osama thing went down and I had to touch on that instead. But back to boozing! Yup, these are all true stories from back in the college days (Binghamton University in upstate NY if you didn’t already know). I’m sure some of the people in this strip will be surprised to see themselves in comic form—hopefully pleasantly surprised. I could probably do a whole book of these if I really wanted to be maybe I’ll wait and see how much you guys like this first installment.
Yeah, so you know all those things people post that are like this? Okay, this is my version. I saw xckd do one of these a while ago that was more of a political commentary. Mine is pretty stupid and trivial but perhaps funny to some people on the internets. I had this strip lying around for a while as a backup for a week when I was either off on vacation or didn’t have any time and this was just such a week (and you know, when you work all weekend, you kind of start to view the world like it looks in this strip).
*So this comic has appeared on someecards, which I found via their Twitter feed. I appreciate the props but they could have given me a wee bit more credit/linkage. I feel like an AP photographer.
**This baby has legs. Months later, it is now appearing all over the place. On Laughing Squid, Neatorma and I Love Charts.
Listening to women talk about how drunk their men get is really fun and that’s the subject of this Dustinland. It’s so cliche, you feel like you’re watching an episode of Married With Children. But still, there’s just something infinitely entertaining about the mix of amusement and disappointment in a girl’s voice when she describes her husband’s drunken antics. It stops being funny and gets just depressing when we’re talking about people with real problems here, but I’m just talking about regular dudes who get drunk with their friends, then come home and pass out.