For some time I have been thinking about the post I would write with today’s comic strip. For weeks I have been formulating various thoughts in my mind, trying desperately to piece them together into some kind of written structure. So many different topics came forward: true friendship, inner beauty, social anxieties, objectification, self worth, etc.

I have since chosen not to supplement this comic strip with any further analyses or additional writing, but rather to let the comic strip speak for itself. I’ve decided that it’s probably worth more to the reader to interpret it as they wish and draw their own conclusions.

Although I usually fight the impulse, I have discovered that portions of my comic strip are, on occasion, somewhat personal. As I worked with this particular story line I found myself looking inward, observing many of the aspects and actions of my own life, and evaluating how I treat people. It has been a worthwhile experience for me, one that I hope will make me better.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Readers, you have only FOUR days left to enter the  “Who Wants to Be In a Comic Strip?” contest! The winner will be featured in an upcoming Raccoon Toons comic strip! Don’t wait! Enter today!

The post -sigh- appeared first on Raccoon Toons.

Once upon a time, I dated a girl. She was quite attractive, despite the fact that I have since decided she was most assuredly the spawn of Satan.

At the time, men were constantly drooling over her and showering her with compliments of how attractive she was. One day while spending an afternoon together talking, she said something to me that I thought was very telling and which I have remembered to this day.

“I hate it when people tell me I’m pretty.”

Confused, I questioned why on earth she would refuse a compliment such as that.

“It’s just such a stupid compliment. ‘You’re pretty.’ It’s what you tell someone when you can’t think of anything else to say about them.”

As much as I hate to say it, Spawn of Satan had a point. When I looked at it that way, it really was kind of a hollow compliment, especially since it was so often cast about by men who were only interested in outward appearances and physical entanglements.

And yet I couldn’t help but feel like I was also one of those shallow men. Heck, I’m STILL one of those shallow men. Looks matter to me, and I was dating this girl in part, because she WAS pretty. It had been the first thing I noticed about her. It wasn’t the only reason why I liked her (hey, I’m not COMPLETELY shallow), but I couldn’t deny the fact that if she hadn’t been so pretty, chances are I wouldn’t have asked her out in the first place.

And so I resolved that I would try to compliment her on other more profound matters. I would prove to both of us that I didn’t just want her for her looks, and she would see how different and non-shallow I was compared to all the other men chasing her. I resolved not to call her “pretty.”

Oddly enough, she dumped me just a short time later. Girls…they’ll really mess with your head.

The post You’re Pretty appeared first on Raccoon Toons.

e·piph·a·ny [ih-pif-uh-nee]

a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.

Who are your friends? Your true friends? People you can really count on through thick and thin? Maybe I use the term too narrowly, but in my own mind I’m pretty selective about who I consider to be my “true friends.” It isn’t that I don’t like a lot of the people that I associate with. There are lots of great people in my life. It’s just that for me, it takes a real bond of loyalty and trust for me to consider someone a “true” friend. And I don’t just throw that moniker around carelessly. True friendship is earned, endures through the ages, and is not cast aside by the changes we encounter in life.

So maybe by my definition I don’t have a lot of “true friends.” But the ones I do have, are there forever.

The post Friends appeared first on Raccoon Toons.

I have discovered that I am becoming less and less of an extrovert as I become older. Perhaps maturity brings with it less of a need to be “cool” and fit in. Maybe I don’t have the time I once had to devote to being popular and extroverted. Or maybe I’m just being lazy.

Young Matt would not have put up with this. Young Matt would see to it that he was out every weekend doing something all crazy and extroverted-like. Young Matt would climb the social ladder with all the cool kids. Of course, young Matt would also [allegedly] break into schools to move desks around…so maybe young Matt wasn’t all that bright…

I will say this. I miss young Matt sometimes. That guy does whatever the heck he wants, whenever he wants. He never takes “no” for an answer. He dreams big, and somehow accomplishes it. That guy can do anything.

Somewhat older Matt  has gotten really good at sitting in office chairs and playing “Words With Friends.” I don’t know how it happened. Somewhere along the lines I started “growing up” and everything became a lot more complicated and boring. I can’t even remember the last time I got sent to the Dean’s office or stuck a bunch of plastic forks in someone’s lawn. What the heck man? What the heck.

As you may remember, I chose not to make a New Year’s resolution this year. But if I had, it would be to find wherever young Matt is hiding, and let him out to play more often. I think I could learn a thing or two from him.

The post Extrovert appeared first on Raccoon Toons.

“Your boyfriend is such a tool. Seriously. Just look at the guy. That stupid face. That stupid hair. I bet he pops up the collars on his polo shirts. Who does he think he is? Anyone with half a brain can see that the guy is a total tool. But then I guess you don’t have half a brain do you? I mean, if you did you OBVIOUSLY wouldn’t be dating him. Man…I can’t believe I was such good friends with that guy before he started dating you. It’s so weird that I had no idea he was such a tool until now…

“We’re all probably better off now that you’ve both removed yourselves from the dating pool, at least until one of you gets tired of blank stares and moronic conversation. You two really deserve each other. So yeah. Enjoy your tool boyfriend you ditsy brain dead twit.

“And…call me if you break up any time soon…”

The post Life Of Party appeared first on Raccoon Toons.

Self control is important. We all need to have self control. Take your job for example. There you are, sitting at your super enticing desk, with your super enticing paperwork piling up around you. That paperwork can be oh so enticing. I know you’re just DYING to jump right in with reckless abandon and get crazy with all that paperwork. And yet, here you are. You’ve somehow managed to muster up every ounce of self control that you posses to resist doing that paperwork for just a little longer while you do something that’s REALLY important— namely look at raccoon cartoons. I have to say, I’m really impressed. Your self control is truly inspiring. Inspiring to us all.

You know what else is really important and truly inspiring? Entering this year’s “Who Wants to Be In a Comic Strip?” contest! The month is coming closer and closer to its end, which means you only have a limited time left to enter the contest for your chance to be featured in an upcoming Raccoon Toons comic strip!! Don’t wait a moment longer! Enter the contest today! It’s FREE and it’s SO easy! Just:

1. Like on Facebook, or follow on Twitter, or Subscribe to the RSS feed.

2. Pick out your favorite comic strip or post and share it!

3. Tell me what and how you shared. Did you post it? Tweet it? Email it? I need to know! Leave a comment on the site or on the facebook page, or just send me an email or something. If you don’t tell me, I won’t know to enter your name.

4. Eat a cookie.

That’s it! You’re done! How simple is that?!?! So show a little self control and enter the contest today!!

The post Why Do I Do That?? appeared first on Raccoon Toons.

Throughout all ages, beautiful women have had the power to cause men to become helpless and stupefied. They literally remove thoughts and words from our mouth and leave us with nothing but the most clueless expressions.  I know this from personal experience.

Once upon a time, in a far away land called junior high school, there was an exceptionally good looking 7th grader in my class. I knew she was exceptionally good looking because everyone said she was exceptionally good looking, and that’s what society does for us— they tell us who is exceptionally good looking.

This particular exceptionally good looking classmate was in 7th period science with me. I had never spoken her, but I knew who she was. Everyone knew who she was. I on the other hand, kept somewhat of a “low profile” in my junior high school days…which is a nice way of protecting my ego and saying I’m pretty certain she had no idea I existed.

One afternoon our science teacher decided to put us into groups to work on some sciency sort of project. I don’t remember what the project was, except I have some vague recollection of the planet Saturn, which seems odd because I’m pretty sure 7th grade is where you study cells and organisms and junk. So I have no idea where I’m getting Saturn, but there ‘ya go.

My science teacher by the way, believed he was Batman. No. I’m actually being serious. He had the full suit and everything. Weird right? It’s completely irrelevant to my story, but I thought I would go ahead and mention that part anyway because…dude thought he was Batman. But I digress.

As fate would have it, exceptionally good looking girl and I were placed into the same science group. My little junior high heart fluttered. Maybe THIS would be my chance to break through social barriers and get to know the most exceptionally good looking girl on campus! Yes! This was my chance.

Unfortunately as I recall, the rest of our group members were…well…dimwitted to say the least. I remember them arguing over all sorts of stupid and ridiculous ideas for group projects that didn’t even make sense let alone fulfill the requirements of the science project.

As I looked around the little cluster of 7th graders, it finally dawned on me that I was in fact the best student in our group. That’s saying something because this was right around that time when schoolwork and being a good student wasn’t exactly high on my priority list. And by “right around that time” I mean “grades 6th-15th,” and by “not on my priority list” I mean “not women, cartoons, or chocolate milk.”

Of course being the best student in the group terrified me to no end, because EVERYONE knows what happens when you’re the smartest person in your group. Surely the minute I opened my mouth I would be doomed to do all of the work myself and lead the required presentation to the rest of the class. But worst of all, exceptionally good looking girl would know that I was smart. And that, I decided, could not be allowed to happen. Smart people weren’t cool in junior high school. They just weren’t.

So I devised a plan to save myself from this deplorable fate. I would scarcely open my mouth. And when I did, it would only be to utter the words: “I don’t know,” “yeah, that sounds fine to me,” or “whatever.”

It was a brilliant plan if I do say so myself. Some other poor schmuck was taking charge of the group project, and I was left undisturbed to plot my attempt at speaking with exceptionally good looking girl.

All the group did however, was argue. They couldn’t seem to agree on anything, except for me of course who agreed with absolutely anything. It truly was the saddest sorry bunch of 7th graders I ever had the fortune to work with. Finally, when no resolution could be made, it was decided that they would go ask the teacher for some guidance. After all, who wouldn’t want some guidance from Batman?

And so, everyone in the group went to discuss matters with Gotham City’s finest. Everyone…except exceptionally good looking girl— Exceptionally good looking girl…and me.

THIS was my chance! The moment I had been waiting for! I was completely alone with this flower of the 7th grade! In the back room of the science lab no less!! I couldn’t have planned this any better!

We sat there, just the two of us staring at each other while my poor 7th grade brain racked itself for something to say.

Anything! C’mon!! This was my golden opportunity!!

-silence-

Oh no! No! This isn’t happening! You wanted this opportunity you stupid kid, now DO SOMETHING WITH IT!

-silence-

OPEN YOUR MOUTH!! The longer you wait the harder and more awkward it’s going to be!!

-silence-

You will NEVER get another opportunity like this and you will NEVER live this down if you don’t say something to her NOW!

My inner voice was right. There would never be another chance like this. Finally, after this eternity of silence, I forced myself to open my mouth.

“-ahem-  Well…this is an interesting group…” I managed to squeak out. She looked up at me with those big doe eyes, I think both surprised and relieved that I had finally broken the silence.

“Yeah,” she responded.

I smiled and nodded my head a few too many times. Desperately my mind tried to come up with something else to say. Some logical progression of this awkward conversation. But there was nothing. I had nothing.

-silence-

Those were the first, and last words I ever spoke to the girl. And while we went to the same schools for the next several years, we never again shared any classes, projects, or friends. I practically never saw her again. I don’t even know if we graduated from the same high school or not.

I had been right. It was indeed, my singular opportunity.

The post What Happened?! appeared first on Raccoon Toons.

I have a self-imposed PG rating over here at Raccoon Toons. I try to keep things pretty light and user friendly to anyone who might be visiting the site. You will never find swearing for example, in one of my comic strips or cartoons. Nor will you find any form of substance abuse, nudity, or excessive violence. Heck, I won’t even venture much into politics. Occasionally I might try to tell a specific story or prove a point. And occasionally you might find some adolescent-teenage-boy humor like the comic strip above. But for the most part my aim is to be able to appeal to a wide audience of different ages and backgrounds, and to have something that I could share with my future children someday (assuming that hot little future wife of mine quits dragging her feet and finally shows up).

I believe in artistic expression, and this little world that I have created is very much an expression of who I am. I am grateful that today’s technology has provided a platform that allows me to share it with so many people. Before the tech-boom growing up, I never imagined something like this could be possible. It really is amazing.

As such, I believe it is important that we defend the Internet to keep it as rich a form of expression as it is. True, there are times when it feels very much like the wild West— a land without laws or enforcers, a land of danger. But it is also a world of artistry and passion and creative genius. Where people like me can live out our childhood fantasies and make movies, cartoons, and comic strips and share them with the world. We cannot allow it to be stifled or controlled by those who would attempt to govern or hinder it. Doing so would be detrimental to us all.

And so I implore all of you to take a moment to consider the bills that US lawmakers are currently deliberating on. If you feel the same way about the Internet as I do, then I encourage you to make your voice heard. Take a few seconds to email your state representative, or sign a petition. Let’s keep freedom of expression alive.

The post Censorship appeared first on Raccoon Toons.

Oh ridiculously hot girl… You prance about without a care in the world, cognizant of only what’s in your little hot girl bubble. You get whatever you want, whenever you want it, and you get it with a smile. You’re never alone. You never have to pay. You seldom have to make an effort at much of anything. Socially and romantically you are constantly wanted and desired, and yet you are as flighty as a hummingbird.

It would seem you’re handed so many things in life. And yet, you seem underdeveloped. You seem lacking in basic etiquette, in general knowledge, and in formal education. All of course, is forgiven because of your flawless outward beauty, but despite your skimpy string bikini, intellectually, philosophically, and spiritually you are playing in the shallow end. Your pursuit of depth is hindered by the ease with which you obtain virtually everything.

It isn’t so much your fault, and I feel sad for your lack of progression. We have built you up such that you have not benefited from the growth that comes from failure, rejection, and heartache. And it is as much my fault as anyone else’s.

Oh ridiculously hot girl, for whom we are all so easily seduced… I hope you look inward and place this great power of yours aside. I hope you better yourself. I hope you tell yourself “no.” I hope someday you find yourself challenged and out of your comfort zone. For you cannot depend on the rest of us to help you do so.

The post Hot Girl appeared first on Raccoon Toons.

I highlighted my own hair once. Actually I bleached it. Literally.

I was in Jr. High school and it was just becoming “cool” to bleach one’s hair. Frankly, I always knew it was a bad look. But I thought it might be cool to add some highlights, so I decided I’d add a streak or two in the front. There was only one problem with this. Naturally as a young 14 year old, I didn’t know the first thing about how to add highlights to one’s hair. But I had heard the term “bleaching,” so I figured that obviously must be the solution.

So, one afternoon, I went out to the garage and picked up a bottle of Clorox…

I carefully soaked some bleach into my hair awaiting an intant and magical color change. When that didn’t happen right away, I decided to add more bleach and wait a little longer.

I had repeated this process several times without achieving any real results further than making my head smell lemony-fresh. So late that night I decided I’d give it one last go. I soaked my bangs in bleach liberally one more time, and sat down on my bed to wait until the appropriate time had passed.

8 hours later, I woke up.

Panicked, I ran into the bathroom. I was sure my hair would be white, or worse yet, disintegrated from the cleansing power of bleach. I would be the only bald 8th grader in a world where young adolescent teenagers find any reason to tear you down socially and emotionally just to avoid being the one getting picked on. I could hear the volley of names coming. In a hour I would go to school and forever be known as “Lemon Head,” “Charlie Brown,” and “Cabbage Patch Kid,” the premature balding, fresh smelling, wonder-kid who poured bleach onto his own hair. My life was over.

Terrified I looked in the mirror. I saw no change. I washed my hair. There was no change. Amazingly, other than a really, reeeaaally shiny tuft of hair, there was no color change.

Relieved, I went to school. As the weeks past, the sun did indeed highlight that section of my hair. By summer time I had two blond streaks in the front of my head. In fact, for the next year or two it seemed as though my hair was actually growing in lighter in areas where I had applied the bleach. Fortunately, aside from these changes (and a period of time when my hair felt slightly brittle), there were no major side affects and I retained my full and glorious head of hair. You’re welcome.

For the record, I learned a valuable lesson that day, and decided never again to experiment by putting household cleaning agents on my head. That’s probably a lesson we all need to learn at some point in life.

The post Something Different appeared first on Raccoon Toons.