Waking Up In The Suburbs

Waking Up In The Suburbs

Waking Up In The Suburbs

Waking Up In The Suburbs

Waking Up In The Suburbs

Waking Up In The Suburbs

Meanwhile, in suburbia...

Some of you may have noticed that the webcomics appearing on WUITS are from stripcreator.com. The reason for this, of course, is that I can't draw worth a shit. I am an extraordinarily inept artist, so it's much appreciated that we can use such a website to create graphics for my own. All characters are still property of their respective authors. We show our appreciation for they're letting us use them by...of course...stealing them. We're villains. It's sorta our thing.

Waking Up In The Suburbs

Waking Up In The Suburbs

The Dollocaust

Pop Quiz kids: What is the most truly horrifying place on Earth? Answer: The Doll section of Toys R' Us. Have you BEEN to one of these fucking places before? HUNDREDS of funny eyed fake babies...in various packaging and coming with all sorts of accessories...screaming, crying, and telling you that they are hungry. This is true. They ARE hungry. For your FUCKING SOUL! If there is any place on earth that an "inanimate object" is likely to come to life and hack your ass to bits using a Bob the Builder playset...it is in this place.

This little scamp comes complete with a stethoscope. It KNOWS if you play dead.

Now, I know many of you aren't familiar with this section, and usually only pass through it on your way to the video games or collectibles section of the store. And perhaps you've never felt that pervading sense of danger that seems to loom over the doll section like some kind of ancient curse that threatens to make your genitals turn to goo and run down your pants leg. I assure you, this is perfectly normal for the doll section. Well, maybe not the genitals turning to goo thing. That only happens if you're exposed for more than say, half an hour. Sort of like Victoria's Secret, where guys will develop breasts and women will develop...errrr...larger breasts....if exposed to this place too long. It's rumored that Victoria's Secret employee's actually have a caliber rating on their bra's equivalent to a .50 Cal rifle, in case their overly enormous breasts should snap their confines and kill a customer. The military is looking into this.

This Doll was in Victoria's Secret overnight, apparently.

However, I digress. The point is this: the doll section is a danger to your soul. Again, I'm not speaking of the Barbie doll section, which is mostly dangerous to young girls sense of self worth. There is a REASON why the baby dolls are strapped into those boxes like miniature versions of Hannibal Lecter, with their little hands and legs tied in with that plastic cord. They can sense you. At any moment, it's likely that their little dropping baby doll eyes will flutter open, and they'll break free of their individual restraints and take you down like a fucking gazelle. And if you should run...they actually make fucking tricycles and roller skates for them to chase you down with. Could it get much worse than this?

Note the breastfeeding baby and accompanying 7 year old. WTF?

And yes, I HAVE considered the Small World ride at Disney World. Which, while dangerous...THOSE dolls are at least kept in line by highly trained doll wranglers which zap them with cattle prods when they get out of line, and aren't afraid to invoke the all powerful spirit of Ba'hb, which would send them back to the depths of hell, where they belong.

No, the doll aisle is much more dangerous. This will be the birthplace of human destruction. They will all come to life all at once, in some kind of freakish, human eating frenzy...and begin their slow, deliberate march across the earth...destroying mankind as they go. The last words many of us will hear will be "I'm hungrrry. Feed me mommy!" Such is the beginnings of "The Dollocaust".

This "baby" is made of chocolate. Nuff said.

And guess what? It's nearing the Holidays. People are going to buy these things. Their evil influence is going to spread. You may find one in your own home soon...very, very soon.

But Can She Jog?

You know, we here at Waking Up In The Suburbs aren't usually the type to point fingers. We actually prefer more sharp, pointy type objects. So, when we saw this video, we thought..."Holy SHIT, this chick is a verifiable Super Villainess!"

Also, we were scared shitless at the fact that she could possibly crush us with her mammoth mammaries. Look at these things! They're fuggin' HUGE!



Oh...dear...God. There are some things in this world that should not be. Cthu'lu, various types of weird ass fish, and destructive tits. We like boobs. Hey, boobs are one of the things that makes the world go round, right? But we're pretty sure that boobs should not have the same destructive power of a wrecking ball.

Did we mention that her breasts...collectively...are about half the size of the Liberty Bell? This gives us an idea. Dress her up in red, white and blue, and send HER over to deal with terrorism. All the terrorists last words, as they rush out to meet their fate, will run something along the lines of "Ji-...huh?"

The ISS Takes On: More Real Life Superhero's

Pictured: Idiots

I quote now from Cityweekly.net.

They hide their true identities behind elaborate masks and costumes, patrolling the streets of downtown Salt Lake City in groups of two and three. People react to them in various ways: Older folks tend to ignore them. Drunken young adults want to pose with them for photos. Teenagers tend to hiss, growl and shout in their general direction, while children walk right up to them and ask what they are doing. Despite the masks and secret identities, they're completely open about their purpose.

Ahhh. We've apparently uncovered a group of superheroes. Either that, or a bunch of guys who like dressing up a bit too much. Lets see how one of the members responds when questioned about their costume.

A girl of about 14 breaks from the mass of tittering boys and bravely approaches Inferno. He's wearing a red hood and tunic, thigh-high pleather boots, and a matching black pleather mask that covers his eyes and nose. She breaks the awkward silence: "Can I ask about your costume?"

Inferno nods, unconsciously touches his red goatee and answers: "I'm part of the Black Monday Society."

The girl cocks her head. "The Black Monday Society?"

"Yeah," Inferno begins, a little more comfortable now, getting into a well-worn groove, "We just walk around, you know, patrol the streets."

Yeah, cause..ya know, guys walking around in Halloween costumes patrolling the streets is apparently pretty normal in Salt Lake City, which is noted not being populated by religious nuts.

I knew now that I had no choice. To find out more about these societies, I had to infiltrate the ranks of heroes themselves.

Hello to all of you fellow heroes! For several years now, I thought I was alone. Trying on tight fitting costumes in private, feeling insecure about how I looked...about my thoughts on how I could serve my community and exactly how I would go about doing this. I mean, I've always wanted to be looked up to by the younger people in my community. In short, I wanted to be a super hero...and take down all the super villains in this world. I mean, they're all smug, thinking there isn't anyone who can take them down, right? Thinking there's not anyone willing to put their life and their mothers underwear on the line to serve humanity.

I've been trying really hard to develop some sort of unique "power" of sorts. Maybe something like having a whip that makes people tell the truth or something. But I think that one's been taken. Anyway, does anyone have advice for aspiring young hero on the rise? I would appreciate all the help I can get! Thanks!

The bait is set, kiddies! Stay tuned for more on this in depth report from the front!

Agenda of Last Bi-Monthly Meeting

As most of us know, last Friday was the bi-monthly "State of the Society" meeting, where we share secret strategies, listen to guest speakers, and plot against one another. Of course everyone truly knows that these meetings mean 3 things:

• Free coffee and donuts.
• Watching a supervillain training video (i.e. "Sexual Harassment in the Villainous Workplace: A How To Guide", or "Lab Accidents and You: How not To Create a Super-Nemesis".)
• Complete and unadulterated boredom.

However, at our last meeting, we had a motivational speaker stop by who outlined a few strategies that may in fact help us with our plans for world domination. Here is one of the flowcharts from the meeting.

As you can see, it's a pretty simple plan, and there doesn't appear to be any real way to muck it up. However, there were a few members who did express concerns about the general lack of laser beams, nuclear reactors, and/or the destruction of their nemesis. Others complained that the donuts were at least a day old, and the coffee filter hadn't been changed since the last meeting.

For the first group, rest assured that ISS scientists are looking for ways to incorporate these items into the overall plan. For the second group of whiners, we will be sending you an official ISS apology in the mail.

Don't mind the ticking. It's probably a watch.

4 Reasons to Dominate the Earth

Fast Cars

Like everyone else, every supervillain sees themselves speeding down the highways driving the hottest, fastest car that money can buy. Their hair (antennae, bald scalp, fur, whatever) flying in the wind, without a care in the world.

Unfortunately, due to the world's governments and all the "safety protocols" they have in place, we can't drive as quickly and as recklessly as we would like. You might think this is a bad reason to wish to over throw the current world order, and that NO one would go to all that trouble just to drive as fast as you want. Ladies and gentlemen, we present...the Autobahn.

The German Autobahn has a recommended speed limit of at least 130 km/h (80 mph), though there is no legal speed limit to keep drivers from tear assing through the German countryside.

Even we here at the ISS all agree that Hitler was a complete douche, but we know supervillain reasoning when we see it. Therefore, it's little wonder that the Nazi regime made this one of their major projects when Hitler came to power. Sure, the building of the autobahn created lots of jobs for the German people, but this didn't keep the Nazis from later using slave labor to finish the job.

We'll probably steal this idea and build our own Autobahn when we come to power. However, this one will be built using all slave labor. Namely rich, white, tax evading executives.

Revenge

Who hasn't had someone kick sand in their face? Or perhaps not listen to us, or even blacklist us, because our experiments made mockeries of human life or were perhaps a tad too dangerous? Maybe someone stole your girl/boyfriend? The point is, everyone has someone that we want to grovel at our feet and beg our forgiveness. This would usually precede us vaporizing them and spitting into the ashes of whatever happens to be left.

Well, supervillains are usually supervillains for a reason. We've been ostracized from society, or perhaps we're just people who have been hurt deeply. By the very people we care so much about. We're all just lost babes in the woods who are misunderstood because of our inherent desire to destroy anything and everything that isn't us. Sure, we all wish we could be understood. But, we'll settle for enslaving the unbelievers and razing their homes to the ground. (We're villains.)

Puppies

Everyone loves puppies. They're so cute, lovable, and, most importantly, loyal. Which is why it pisses us off when the government tells us we can't use science to turn our cute, lovable companions into homicidal, vampire like mutants that hunger for human flesh and will attack anyone on our command.

In a perfect world, every supervillain would be able to have a super pet which would keep the Heroes at bay, while also being furry and rather nice to scratch behind the ears while thinking up evil schemes. Face it: Having a superdog would kick ass! Who would fuck with you when you have an evil, drooling, ball of claws and teeth ready and willing to bite people on the niz-uts?

Me: "I believe I'll be taking my Doctorate now, Dr. Fielding."
Them: "But you're not even enrolled! You've never attended a single class!"
Fluffy: GROWLSNARL
Them: "And how would you like your name to read on the certificate, Mr. Rogue?"

Kickass.

A Guide to Dating (For Supervillains)

Women: More Than a Cute Set of Knockers

Yes, I know that the title of this chapter and the accompanying image are perhaps a bit misleading. You may have expected us to be talking about knockers here. Which, is quite clever when you think about it. I drew you into reading this chapter the same way that your girlfriend probably drew you into asking her out. Ain't boobs great? Let's take a second right here and give a big hip, hip, hooray for the boobs! I'll pause on this line for a moment while you do so.

(Also, it should be mentioned that this article is for the purposes of humor ONLY. Anybody who gets their relationship into a jam by quoting this is, in effect, a dumb ass, and should not be allowed to reproduce anyway.)

Congrats! If you are reading this, you are in fact thinking about getting into, or are already in, a relationship. This is a very exciting time for you, and I'm sure that all the girls who turned you down before are incredibly jealous of your new flame or flame-to-be.

Right. Lets pause right there. Face facts, guys. In order for the aforementioned relationship to become the strong, mutual, trusting, storybook version of a romance that your girlfriend and/or future spouse dreams of, the first thing you have to do is...forget about all your previous girlfriends. Yes. You read that right. I'm not saying that you can't secretly daydream about them...or fantasize...or occasionally lock the bathroom door and spend an extravagant amount of "you" time.

I am merely stating that as far as your significant other is concerned, there has only ever been one woman in your life. And you had better damned well not break this illusion. You see, women have a different mentality than men. There's always that hope, that one of these days, their knight in shining armor, their Prince Charming, if you will, will arrive on a white steed, and take her away to her fantasy life where she will live happily ever after.

So, she's already made a major sacrifice with settling for you, and as you are now in fact the surrogate Prince Charming, it is best you don't ruin the relationship by throwing in the little tidbit about jizzing all over Cinderella when you were in college. She doesn't care how long it was before you met her, how drunk you were, and especially how little she meant to you. Love is a minefield, my friends. Sure, a lot of it is butterflies, sunflowers and rainbows. But the vast majority of the time, you find yourself wandering around carrying one of your appendages under your arm wondering what the hell just happened.

This is normal!

You win some, you lose some. And my friend, be prepared to lose some. Because when I say lose "some" I mean about 95 percent of the time. Men are just not wired properly to win an argument with a woman. It's a type of psychological warfare that for some reason, we just have no talent when it comes to playing this particular game.

Say you get into a fight with another guy. You beat the hell out of each other for maybe five minutes, until the adrenaline runs out, then you end up buying each other a beer with a newfound respect for each other. Unless of course a woman is involved.

Women don't play the game that way. If two women hate each other, it may never come to physical blows. What will happen, however, is a long, drawn out, and extremely complex game of Mousetrap(TM) that can go on for decades and will only end when one of the two parties involved in the aforementioned dispute either: A) dies, or B) gets a sex change.

Oh, and it will get heated. There's way more Cloak and Dagger going on between two women who hate each other than in the Cold War and The War on Terror combined. And here's the best part! In this particular game of chick chess, you get to be a pawn!

Sure, you may not care if there's a bit of a stain on your shirt when you go out with your spouse, but you better damned well believe that SHE sees it. And if she does, someone else might, too! And it just wouldn't do to have anyone thinking that she's dating/married a complete slob who can't even keep food off his shirt. Especially that Kimmy whatsherface with the big knockers who always stole her boyfriends back in the tenth grade and whom she will get if it's the last fucking thing she does, up to and including grabbing you by the ankles and beating Kimmy whatsherface into submission with your lifeless corpse. (We said it may not ever come to blows. That doesn't mean it won't.)

Don't take this as saying that your significant other doesn't love you. If she has indeed given you her love cookie (so named because you only get it when you're good and all pet names for genitalia are ridiculous), then chances are that she really likes you! And as long as you don't make the rookie mistake of looking at, speaking of, thinking about, or otherwise mentioning someone whom she considers to be her enemy in a positive light, then you'll be okay.

Now, you might actually beat the snot out of some guy when it comes to your significant other's honor. But, fellas, you're no match for that little vixen when it comes to an actual argument. You see, as mentioned before, women can hold a grudge for a long time. As a matter of fact, the only thing a woman can hold longer than a grudge is another woman's hair if things finally come to blows. And if this happens, you better have the jaws of life and a good hair stylist handy. Otherwise, somebody gonna die.

I myself have been in an argument where, not only did I not have a damned clue as to what was going on, but things were quoted back to me that I had supposedly said at some point that I didn't even remember saying. It was like a sadist's version of "Jeopardy."

Her: Who originally made this quote last Sunday night at the dinner table? "Wow. This meatloaf is a little dry!"

You: Ummmmmm..Winston Churchill?

Her: Oh son, you isn't very bright, is ya?

Guys, to you that may not have sounded like an extremely horrible thing to say. But any woman who is reading this right now is thinking to herself how much of a completely insensitive prick I am for saying something like that, while quietly snickering to about how her meatloaf is superior to any other woman's.

The truth is that women are smarter than us. It's true! Women have a way of backwards engineering logic to the point that there is nothing you can say that is going to be right. As a matter of fact, 90% of the things you say can and will be held against you. So in this respect, it's best to shut the hell up and just apologize. It's like that movie, "Dune." She who controls the spice, controls the universe. And if you ever want more of her"love cookie" again, it's probably a good idea to be quiet, concentrate on collecting those gold stars, and lay low.

Fact: If you ever want to make her totally make her lose her fucking mind and lock onto you like a Dalek screaming "EXTERMINATE!" at the top of her lungs, go ahead and try using logic. Oh sure...this is an easy way to accumulate "anti-cookie points", but isn't she cute when her head spins around like that?

Oh yes. There are many dos and don'ts (mostly don'ts) when it comes to females my friends. And I could try for a complete list, but they would simply change the rules as soon as I hit "submit". So, here it is in a nutshell: Don't try to play a game where you don't know the rules. And for God's sake, if your going to apologize, at least know what your apologizing for.

This is yet another rookie mistake. The phantom "I'm sorry." Sure, you probably are sorry. But it's more than saying your sorry. You have to specify via verbal contract, what you are sorry for, and that you are, in fact, an asshole.

The thing is guys, that there will indeed come a time that you will fuck up beyond sorry. You won't know your doing it when it happens. Perhaps you were sent to the store to buy your wife some "feminine products" for that time of the month, and you brought the wrong brand. Again. For the fourth consecutive time.

At this point, your probably wishing that those "wings" they keep talking about on the box actually worked, and you significant other would just fly the fuck off for about a week (still crossing my fingers on this one, actually). However, your going to have to face the music and admit your mistake. You see, as their mate, women expect more out of us. God knows why. But they do. And when we continually screw up with the same thing over and over, it's no longer about the mistake. It's about respect. And the fact that we keep making this mistake simply shows them that we have not been listening.

"Sorry" won't work here, guys. You can say it, just don't be surprised when everything doesn't go back to unicorns and rainbows. Give her some time, make some insanely sweet act of contrition, and don't ever do it again.



revrogue@rocketmail.com

Pack Your Shit: It's the Endtimes

Generally, we here at the Evil Villains International League (E.V.I.L.) aren't what you would call...superstitious. In the never ending battle against the pansy forces of good, we generally go about our cycle and not really worry whats up with the rest of the world. Plot, do battle with nemesis, achieve either victory or defeat, kill a few henchmen in frustration (or celebration) of aforementioned outcome...rinse, lather, repeat.

However, even we have to start taking notice when, among the death threats, henchmen applications, and promises of a larger penis...we get this in our email:

Rut ro. How long has THIS been going on? And how much has he seen? Not that we're saying we believe the whole "salvation" deal, but as villains, we're usually careful about hedging our bets. So, we began to do more digging and research into whether this may actually be a sign of the end of days. And the results aren't pretty.

#1: Brothers rise against Brothers...sort of.

Simulated nerd rage, reenacted by Spock.

With the release of the newest bastardization of Star Trek, we all find ourselves just a little closer to hell. And apparently, Mr. Abrams wanted to accentuate this by making the younger Spock a complete dickhead. We're not out to spoil any plot points of the movie for those of you who still want to go see it...but we would like to point out that Leonard Nimoy himself helped dropkick this abortion of the franchise into Oblivion. So, now we've come full circle...if the Trekkers see this movie, and get pissed off enough, the world will end for sure. The pure power of so much nerd rage being whined onto internet forums at the same time is sure to make the interweb collapse upon itself like a black hole, in some kind of retaliation/self defense mechanism. Thus will end internet commerce. A return to paper porn will be in order. The cost of masturbation will go up, morality will sink, and eventually fights will break out at the local gas station for the last copy of Hustler. It will indeed be dark days.

Coincidentally, Mr. Nimoy advises you check out his photography site before this happens.
#2: Rise of the Anti-Christ

The end of us all. Probably.

With the amount of children this power couple is adopting and/or popping out more frequently than their movies, what's the chances that they DON'T inadvertently shoot out an anti-christ or two? Just sayin'.

#3: Plagues and other not so funny shit

They gotta fly before they flu

So, here we are...pinnacles of a civilized species. We've got cable tv, the internet, billion dollar industries...and we're gonna die from a fucking disease that came from pigs. We're not sure how everyone else is taking this news, but we here at the ISS are calling bullshit. We've spent all this time cultivating relationships with our damned nemesis', and now...instead of finally destroying them and ruling the world, as it should be, we have these damned swine that are hellbent on giving us the sniffles. And not just any sniffles, either...but the heebie jeebie not so goodtime yo' ass might die sniffles.

Note that we aren't basing this opinion on the current strain of the flu going around now, but swine flu 4.0, possibly coming down next summer. The one that will make you crap out your eyes and bleed from your genitals. Cause ya know...that's how the next swine flu swings, baby.

#4: The Economy, or "How I Learned to Relax and Love Working at McDonald's"

BAD Economy! BAD!

Once upon a time, we lived in the land of the plentiful. People spent money on useless stuff, because they had too much money. Even us supervillains were a little lax in the spending department. Back in those days, we actually PAID henchmen, rather than beating them mercilessly until they do our bidding.

Now, we have to accept the fact that we're all going to have to tighten our belts, and do what we have to do to make it through these difficult times. For example, we have it on good authority that Lady U is currently saving money by only using one bullet to kill someone. MW's head on a Robot's body has cut back on power, going from a car battery to a couple of 12 volts. And Dr. Puppykicker is doing his part by kicking more puppies...but now doing it faster and harder, thus more efficiently. His theory that this will generate energy over time is still unconfirmed.


By our count, there's still at LEAST two more signs of the apocalypse. The dead, returning from the grave is one of them...Robert Downey Jr's career nonwithstanding. In the meantime, we'll keep an eye out for the end...

Dear Reverend Rogue:

Dear Reverend Rogue,

I've been a super villain for a few years now, but I just haven't been able to break out of the mold of "minor annoyance" into the sphere of "arch nemesis". I think it's because of my powers. See, I'm pretty good with electronics and the like, and I built a suit to defeat a certain wall crawling hero in my city. The problem is...the only thing my suit actually does is make me REALLY friggin' tall. That's pretty much it. It extends my legs and I'm walking around on stilts. I mean...it also makes me stronger, but I'm moving around so awkwardly that actually getting my hands on anything is nearly impossible. All the other villains laugh at me! What should I do?

-Too Tall in New York

Dear Too Tall,
Well, here's your problem. Unless you can find a bank which keeps it's vault on a higher floor...and REALLY close to a window...you've little chance of doing anything outstanding that doesn't require a basketball. Face it. You've limited yourself to a very stupid ability, and now you're stuck with it. I just don't think Super villaining is for you. However, I do have a few suggestions for other jobs you could do. Telephone line repairman, industrial window washer...there's a lot of jobs out there that require strong, overly tall individuals like yourself. Get to lookin'!

Dear Reverend Rogue,

I never thought I would find myself writing to a Super villain advice columnist, but I'm at my wits end. You see, I've been seeing a girl for a while, and everything was going well until a few days ago when we tried to "seal the deal". You see, my power is...super speed. And while it comes in handy when fighting nefarious super villains like yourself...no disrespect...it seems to be less than useful when it comes to other things. This is putting a real cramp in my style. Any advice?

-Flash Fast Lover in Metropolis

Dear Flash Fast Lover,
Man, sounds like that would be cramping other things as well! Well, normally I'm not in the habit of doling out advice to hero's, but since this is special circumstances, I'll try to help. First, to avoid hurting your lover...you'll need some kind of lubricant. After all, that kind of friction at that kind of speed is liable to hurt! Of course, not just any kind of lube will do. I suggest using 10 W40 weight motor oil, which is made for that kind of punishment. Just apply it liberally down there, for her protection. Secondly, you'll want to relax. Maybe she'll want to also. I suggest lighting up a nice, tasty menthol. You'll want it after. Hell, smoke one during too. And never underestimate the feel of some good old fashioned kerosene on a woman's skin! If you follow these simple rules of thumb, you'll be a hunka hunka burnin' love in no time.
Trust me. I'm a super villain. We're all kindsa kinky.

Evil knows no species!

Like the rest of you pathetic miscreants, I was recently issued a challenge by the Reverend to find examples of lesser-known comics and post them here.

I didn't have to look very far before I found a true gem. It is my opinion that this comic should be required reading material for all henchmen. The supervillian star of this show demands a great deal of respect for the complexity of his schemes, his commandery of absolute power, and for the diminuitive size of his furry little black heart.


I am of course speaking of Bucky the cat from "Get Fuzzy," by Darby Conley.

For some time I have been intrigued by the determination of such a small creature to rule all within his domain. He has an obvious size disadvantage compared to those he wishes to control, however this little guy doesn't have 'fear' anywhere in his vocabulary.
Indeed most of his vocabulary consists of garbled English and Bucky-ese. Yet he still manages to thwart the plots of his arch-nemesis, the ferret...somehow.

You also have to applaud his ability to withstand the strong urge to off his Igor-like companion, Satchel, who possesses a mind-bogglingly low IQ (even for a henchman). I would go far as to say that Bucky teeters dangerously close to having superhero-esque patience for contending with both Satchel, and his human servant, Rob. Why, there is even an homage to Ghost Hunters in this strip!

Who knew that there was so much evil in the little furball?