The Purple Pinup Guru Platform

When purple things are pulsating on your mind, I'm the one whose clock you want to clean. Aiding is Sparky, the Astral Plane Zen Pup Dog from his mountain stronghold on the Northernmost Island of the Happy Ninja Island chain, this blog will also act as a journal to my wacky antics at an entertainment company and the progress of my self published comic book, The Deposit Man which only appears when I damn well feel like it. Real Soon Now.

Thursday, August 19, 2004


From this day forward I hereby declare jihad on the I.R.S. -

I've had it up the yang with them pelting my Landescape Productions mailbox with their harrassing threats and innuendoes of wage garishments just because I owe them a lousy $ 800.00 for last year's taxes.

As far as I know, the law states that it's against the law to not file your income taxes.

Doesn't say anywhere that you have to actually pay them.

But anywhere to cut a long story short, for the past two weeks I've been getting these stupid certified mail slips in my mailbox to come up to the counter and sign for these stupid thick envelopes. Fool me once, fool me twice, the next time I have to waste a fifteen minute break waiting in line at the post office to pick up this nonsense- I'm going to have to do something drastic to put a cease and desist to this activity.

I will never, ever write a check out to the name of a organization that no longer has a fundamental right to exist. Enough deductions are taken out of my check each week - there's plenty enough to go around for everyone. I don't give a flying fuck if some John Boy white trash family out on the Appalachian trail doesn't get their goddamn box lunch every week because I don't want to pitch in. I'm not in the business of giving handouts and that's just what the I.R.S is:
nothing worse than some foul smelling derelict standing on a sidewalk with a chinging stryofoam cup in his hand and when you walk by without acknowledging his existence, he has a screaming shitfit behind your back and accuses you of being the devil's spawn.

Or shudder to think: some Saudi's pocket change.

Let's some other Dubya cum swallowing rich fuck handle the load. What I don't get is what the hell am I paying for? Am I paying for coalition troops to attach electrical wire to Iraqi men's testacles or to put hoods on their heads and to tell them to go join on in the Dagwood double decker ass sandwich that's happening in the middle of the floor? Is my money going to help provide proper body armor to the understaffed and malnourished troops that are supposedly out in some god knows where butt fucking country that did nothing to us other than have their dictator defyingly flip us the bird? Or am I getting my fair share of that great CIA intelligence that this Diet Coke snorting Dubya and the rest of his empty-minded cabinet are so much praising to be so concise and accurate only to be shot down by a 9/11 commission that has proven to debunk the intell when the big shit was going to hit the God's fan when two tinkertoy towers came tumbling down - should I help paying those agents's salaries?

Tell me why the fuck should I fork over $800.00 for something this is not going to materialize out of thin air?

So I went on with my anarchistic rants and raves at work yesterday to some of my co-workers. I even got into a slight debate with someone pointing out to me that it is the federal taxes that covers the cost of road maintance - and I have to cut him right there and stomp my foot down on the word CAL TRANS who actually is the organization that does the maintenance on the road. and they just so happen to be on the Big Gov Schwartz's payroll - the STATE TAX of which I have no beef in providing for (in fact I am cutting a past due check for $98 tomorrow just to show that I can conform to some commiseration.

And I went on the internet and did a google search on the words: ABOLISH THE I.R.S.

And just to make it easy on you- I've provided some interesting links and I think you need to read them, 'cause they have a better method of pleading their case better than I can:



and an oldie but goodie 3. -

Hard to believe that some Republicians and I can actually agree on something.

But some sinister plan started to formulate in my selfish eroding mind:

What if I were to sit down and actually write a check out to the IRS, maybe just a fraction of it

but not address it to the IRS per se.

Instead what if I made the check out to GO FUCK YOURSELVES Internal Revenue Service - just to see what would happen? And thereafter every other goddamn stupid lien notice that they send to me certified, I'll certify it back with big bold black letters: GO FUCK YOURSELF I.R.S. I think everyone should get in on the act- as a viable form of protest in making a ripple in this form of psycho abuse.

I mean after all- tit for tat. They are invading my breathing space. Look, I can't be nothing to them but a speck in the mote's eye , so what do I got to lose? I'm forty, not married, I'm holed up now sharing a bedroom in a apartment with two other single guys like if I were still a college frat boy, and any money I make goes into the production of my comic books that I write and PAY other people (under the table) to draw and design for me. So what is there for them to confisicate other than a good chunk of my under 25 grand salary. I purposily lowballed my salary in order to avoid confrontation from this shadow collection agency. I'm so poverty-stricken, that they have to dislodge the plastic spoon that's shoved so far up my ass. I'm going to tell these schmucks once and for all to go bother someone else (such as a family of four in Central LA) who is more worthy of paying the right to breathe the stale stagnant smog.

Speaking of self publishing : I wanna to take the plunge and send in the submission packet off to Diamond Distributors and I download the application but something halted me in my tracks:

<< All books submitted to Diamond should be bar coded with a unique EAN, Price-Point, or UPC bar code on the back of every book following BISAC standards. To obtain a copy of the standards contact: Book Industry Study Group, 160 5th Avenue, New York, New York 10010 >>

At first I thought they were referring to all comic books, and I went to scrambling for some of the books given to me by my small press neighbors at the last San Diego Comic Con International, most notable sturdier products such as LOS COMIX's El Muerto & LAW DOG COMICS' Territory 51 to see if they were carrying barcoding - wasn't a hide nor hair anywhere - but then I read it again and I mistakenly read the blurb under the NON- COMICS section and breathed a sigh of relief-

But then I suddenly realized - what if I wanted to put out a collected edition of all my Deposit Man books?

So I cyberally bellyflopped onto the Book Industry Study Group link: and much to my chagrin I was appalled to read this when I inquired about obtaining my own barcode - if the need ever arised to get one, mind you.

<<Where can I get an ISBN and what is the cost?ISBNs are assigned by the ISBN Agency ( The processing fee is approximately $240 for 10 ISBNs. There are additional fees for Priority and Express processing. Allow 10 business days for non-priority processing from the time the application is received at the agency. >>

$240.00? Are you fucking kidding me? I don't even have enough material to fill in one trade paperback- let alone 10!!

That's whacked out. So in addition to the couple of thousand you got to pour in in printing your thick slick product- you gotta cough up an additional quarter of a tho- to put on funky little stickers on? And not to mention the salaries you gotta to pay the artist, the inker, the letterer, the book designer, the ad space in magazine such as Too Much Coffee Man and on and on ad nauseam

On my first two Deposit Man books, my then co-publisher, Mark Capuano somehow managed to fake the barcodes on his Adobe Illustrator- whether or not they can pass through the scanner remains to be seen- but I'm sure Steve Geppi doesn't employ people just to test out the barcode on every product?

Or do they anything else better to do than run a beauty contest for poor independent publishers wanting a little slice of the industry pie?


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