I've had a lot of cool fucking jobs. Donut flipper. Theater usher. Defense contractor (the natural next step after theater usher). Recording studio manager. And the current role, failed raconteur and bon vivant.

But one of my favorite careers was working at a comic book publisher. We did crappy licensed versions of Speed Racer, Married with Children, the Green Hornet and Astro Boy. But the flagship publication was Mr. T and the T-Force. Mr. T had an office in our building. But in a year working there, I never saw the man. But I did get to drive the T-Force van. Usually when making a run for lunch. And, fairly often, there would be cars trailing the van, hoping to get a glimpse of the man.

The comic book was really fucking awful. Written and drawn by boring-ass uptight white folks, trying to sound "street". It'd have dialog like,

"You rock the house! It wants to come down! Let it come!"

or the letters section, with such useful Mr. T factoids like,

"Mr. T lives in Chicago's north suburbs with his family and their four dogs, Suicide, Pesticide, Genocide, and Danger."

Mr. T has a new reality show. No. I won't fucking watch it. Not until he gets a new look.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, October 17, 2006 at 9:32 PM. You can skip to the end and leave a response.