Touch me. Touch me like you didn't touch me last night.

Originally published at benchiladaland. You can comment here or there.

 
 
Apologies for my website’s misbehaving last week. It seems that most people couldn’t see this comic due to some anti-spam plugin malfunction, so I’ve reposted it.

I’ve had the plugin shot.

Nearly everything in my Fuckbrain Comix has actually happened. Sure, I’ve never actually had a dog cry at me, or had my brain leap out of my head, but with the exception of a smidge of little white lies—you wouldn’t begrudge me a little hyperbole…a drop—all of these events are true. There’s a fun difference with this one, though. Most of the other ones have been very brain-specific to me. But with this…

YOU can pretend it was happening to YOU.
YOU can imagine the smell, the sounds, the revulsion.
The only thing you can’t do is Choose Your Own Adventure.

If you don’t have the genitalia or aim to put yourself in my shoes—stop looking between my legs—then take some lessons or pretend that you’re using one of these.

Now then, let’s talk about the people to whom I wanted to shout…

You can still smell it, can’t you? Don’t think about the bottom of your shoes.

Ta-ra,

benjamin

Originally published at benchilada. You can comment here or there.

I’m marginally surprised that nobody seems to have found my Easter Egg in Tuesday’s comic….

In any event, today’s Fuckbrain Classic is from 8 years ago, when my OCD was far worse than it is now. While I still stick to most of the rules in this comic, I’ve been able to overcome a few of them.

I’m just wigging the fuck out of y’all this week, aren’t I?

Love,

benjamin

Originally published at benchilada. You can comment here or there.

I absolutely despise when one of my conditions rears its head while I’m doing something important. One of the most infuriating is when my OCD flips on while I’m drawing.

I tossed this off after struggling mightily on the first page of the Chinese folk tale I’m drawing as my next project. Let’s not talk about how much I did this last night:

My drawing style kind of hinges around me not taking a preposterous amount of to do it. Part of the “charm” is that there’s a spontaneity to the pieces, and that if you look carefully you can see all the mistakes I’ve tried to digitally remove. Over-thinking my art condemns me to a purgatory of questioning each pencil mark, the opposite of what I want.

So be it.

Here’s a photo of the side-entrance to Stone-Robot Enterprises for you. We don’t use it much because, a) We’re hippies, b) It’s protected by golems not created by us.

New Fuckbrain Comix up tomorrow or Wednesday.

Love,

benjamin
Who may be sick

Everybody's got a little bit of OCD. I've got a little bit of everybody's. Here's one example for you.

My brain likes certain things to be organized and then placed into piles and stacks. It's very difficult for me to use drawers, as out of sight is truly out of mine for me. As such, small clusters of things sprout up around our house. On occasion, I realize that these detritus-mounds are getting a bit obtrusive, so I decide to clean up a bit.

All of these sorted things were in dozens of different piles around our place. When I organize, I gather ALL of them, make one HUGE mound, and sort downwards. In this photo, I was about to start on the box in the lower right.

None are put away until ALL are sorted.

A few weeks ago I had pulled out a few piles of stuff and a box of papers to go through. Nadja casually mentioned that I should really stand up and take a photograph. I had absolutely no idea why she would ask me to do this.

My obsessive compulsive disorder has, over the past few years, managed to overtake my mood disorder and my Tourette's. They're both still around, of course, but having Nadja around has calmed them both. My OCD has picked up the slack and become an inexcusable bastard.

I'm going to try to start taking notes of some of my methods and peculiarities. Perhaps I can get back into doing some Fuckbrain Comix specifically about these things.

    
For as far back as I can remember, up until about 18, my brain had convinced me that all pointy leaves on the ground during fall had poisonous tips. This meant that I could step downward on them, but if one blew towards me, I would leap appropriately to dodge.

OCD makes you do some weird shit.

To this day, I sometimes find myself staring a little too hard at the sidewalk in front of my feet during autumn....

Love,

b