Cheer Up, Emo Kid is a webcomic centered around life, love, and loss; whose mission is to bring to light the rarely acknowledged humor found in the most terrible of situations — be it heartbreak, depression, social awkwardkness, loneliness, or anything in between; and something to keep you company when no one else will.
Cheer Up, Emo Kid contains violence, nudity, strong language, lowbrow humor, and suggestive themes including but not limited to revenge, sex, drugs, depression, suicide, racism, cannibalism, beastiality, and the constant, relentless ridicule of fat people. It is not suitable for anyone.
Cheer Up, Emo Kid is currently not being updated regularly.
The delay in the strips is testament to the increasing workload that has been piling up as graduation nears in less than a month if my calendar is correct. I apologize profusely for the delay! I did want to share a couple of things I’ve been working on since they are kinda-sorta related and I guess also to prove I’m doing stuff other than being fat.
A while ago I did a full-page comic for Afoot Magazine, a Vancouver-based lifestyle magazine started by my classmate Dmitri and Sebastiaan. I also designed their website. You can check out the comic right here (Or click on the picture).
Second of all — my senior project I decided to build a graphic adventure game for CUEK in Flash. For those not familiar with the term, a graphic adventure is one of those point-and-click games that make you solve puzzles and shit to advance the story. If you want to check out what I have so far, just click (You can’t really do anything except walk around the room and look/talk/inspect with certain things, so, yeah, just sayin’ since the last demo I put up I forgot to mention when it ended and people were staring at it for ages wondering what to do next).
I’ve also put the online store on hold until after graduation when I’ll really be needing to convince you guys to throw money at me somehow, so we’ll see.
Thank you so so much, I can’t stress enough, for the continued support!
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This is the true story of my first-ever college dorm roommate during my unsuccessful and short-lived stay at an art school in San Francisco. I documented the account almost immediately after it happened and felt an inexplicable need to update the narration. Warning: Strong language and graphic allegories alluding to poop.
I still remember the day 17-year-old me walked into the dorm room that would be my home for the next six months. I was secretly hoping, as everyone else did, that my first college roommate would be cool. Maybe we’d hit it off from the get-go; maybe it would turn out that we listened to the same music, or were both ecstatic at the thought of skateboarding through the treacherous slopes of downtown San Francisco; or maybe we shared the same ambition of rising through the writhing, hormone-fueled ranks of the freshman student body to become gods among college kids. Where the tales of our deeds — the countless, glorious victories on the tables of beer pong, or the passionate lamentation of the women who would grace our bunk-bedsides each night, or the way we totally didn’t study for the final for that one class we didn’t go to the entire year but still ended up passing anyway — were the stuff of legends.
Maybe — just maybe — he would be cool. (more…)
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