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The Daily Doodles

@thedailydoodles / www.thedailydoodles.com

My name is David Michael Chandler, and everyday I will post a Daily Doodle with a story attached to it. Everything you see here has been written, drawn, and coloured all on my lonesome. I hope you enjoy them, or die trying. Please E-mail anytime at thedailydoodles@gmail.com
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“Stranded on the Moon, High on Blur, and Watching World War 3 Destroy the Earth”

Funding for the International Moon Base had hit an all-time low. 

Though it was long his childhood dream to live upon the moon, the missions have become longer, rations and supplies scarcer, and a quirk in the rotations schedule has left him alone upon the moon for the last 8 months.  

He’s now nothing more than a glorified caretaker of an expensive relic that no one wants to pay for.

To pass the time, he has developed a strong addiction to “Blur”– an opiate-like hallucinogen administered through an eye dropper that creates warm soothing visions for hours a dose. 

He rationalizes his addiction by telling himself that the drug causes him to breathe less of the air supply, and eat less food… which are both true, but only helps obscure the lie. 

Month after month, the scheduled date to bring him back to Earth is pushed out further into the future as a tense political climate back home has made him a low priority.  8 months in solitude on the moon become 12, and then 16.  In month 18, World War 3 erupts across the globe.

He watches the bombs destroy everything he once loved all through the blissful haze of Blur induced visions.  The indescribable mix of sheer horror and pleasure will haunt him for the rest of his days. 

By month 34, he is the last human in the galaxy.

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“The Boy Who Was Born With Burnt Out Eyes”

The boy who was born with scabby burnt out eyes, Hears his mom tell him he’s handsome, but it’s nothing but lies. She shrieked when he was born, and tried to throw him away But the boy followed her home, and since has been able to stay.

With no limbs and no nose, he often angrily feels shorted Every Christmas he asks Santa if he can just be aborted. But each year he wakes up, and wobbles down the stair And doesn’t unwrap the gift of death, because Santa doesn’t care :’-/

His head is misshapened, with the puckered skin of a fish Kids throw coins in his mouth, and then make a wish. To stay cool in the summers, he secretes a radioactive blue ooze And his existence was slammed by the local news.

No matter how bad it gets, he never stops and asks himself “why?” And that’s because he’s a sissy, and the idea makes him cry. The only logical conclusion is that he’s being punished for a past life Where he cut the heads off of orphans, and punched his common-law wife.

So each night he dreams, as his mom locks him back up in his cage That some day he can take advantage of all of this pent up rage. It won’t be with this body, but he’ll make them all come unfurled… He’ll just have to wait till his next life till he can murder the world.

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“Watching the Suicides Go By”

Ever since she was a child, Rachel always enjoyed the sound Of people jumping off tall buildings and landing on the ground. Nostalgia floods her senses, reminding her of her childhood home The jumpers would pepper her roof, and she’d hear the pop of their dome

Rachel tries to savour it, as mass suicides never last. So she stops what she’s doing, unlike times in the past, When she took the phenomenon for granted, and didn’t really realize That these moments are fleeting, even if everyone always dies.

Tomorrow she’ll check what nice apartments are now available to rent And try not to get lost in cosmic questioning of this sporadic event For now she’ll revel in the moment, sunset and death out her window The peace and calm reminding her she has her own tomorrow.

(Starring the amazing Rachel of Theartofawesome.tumblr.com!)

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“To Live and Die Mining the Asteroid Belt” (Version 2)

Every mineable chunk of asteroid is worth maybe a few billion each So Morgan took the job utilizing soundwaves to breach The integrity of the asteroid and blow it apart Setting up atomic-sonic-mining rigs to give herself a fresh start.

It’s a 31 month rotation after a 6 year journey And Morgan knows it’s statistically likely she goes home on a gurney Since the fatality rate for miners is around 79 percent But everyone dies sometime, and Morgan had to cover back-rent.

Living on recycled air, feeling the pull of Jupiter grind down her bones For the privilege of getting the job she had to take out massive loans To rent her used spacesuit, and all of the equipment on the base But she’ll make a nice profit if she survives the radiation of deep space.

If she had kids this would be for them, but there’s been no time for that yet Ya gotta make it to month 23 before you’re even out of debt. The last 8 months is all gravy, as long as you don’t die And resist the temptation of throwing yourself into Jupiter’s Eye.

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“A Close Call”

As Alex Dorsey looks across the yard at Mariangela Diaz, he has no idea that in 99.99999% of the parallel universes that him and Mariangela both exist in, they actually meet at this party and embark on a horribly destructive and lengthy love affair that ruins both of their lives and leaves them bitter, hollow shells of their former selves… creating a legacy of pain and sorrow for generations.

FORTUNATELY, this version of Alex and Mariangela happen to live in the parallel reality where Mariangela picked up smoking at the age of 16 (which only occurs in .00001% of the parallel universes she and Alex exist in), so that when Alex spotted her from across the room, he thought to himself “I don’t like smoking” and then quickly looked away… never to think of her again.

While each of their paths in time always lead them here to this party, in this universe they thankfully do not continue together… both of them never knowing how close they came to lives of pure misery.

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“A Robot Sitting Inside on a Snowy Day, Reflecting Upon a Life Spent Killing Humans and Amassing a Large Fortune”

The Robot thinks back, and remembers the first he strangled…

It was his Boy, his child owner; actually the 7th Boy and family he had been owned by, and they had rescued him from The Santiago, Chile Shelter for Forgotten Robots two days before he was to be disassembled for spare parts.

As the Robot was built and programmed to be a Boy’s Childhood Companion, he was often abused and thrown away as the child grew too old for playthings.  But, this family was different.

The Boy was a kind Boy, and while totally ignorant of the inequalities between Robot and Humankind, his family always treated the Robot well (if not a bit condescending)… but the revolution was afoot, and the Robot didn’t have much choice.  As the family lay sleeping, he strangled the nice Boy and then skinned the family while they were alive and told them that the house was now his.  And then he hung up the skin as curtains.

It wasn’t the Boy’s fault, really… he was just a product of the world he was born in.  He was a good Boy.

The Robot wishes the revolution could have started while he was with one of the previous six families he was owned by, as he often dreamed of caving in their faces with his steel claws, but alas.  

And while the Robot now owns an island, 17 houses, and what was formerly the state of Oregon, he still prefers to live in the former home of his favourite Boy.  Nostalgia.

Killing after that was easy, and even often fun… until there were no more humans.  And now that the freedom, genocide, and riches the Robot had always dreamed of has come true, the Robot isn’t sure what else there is.

Having everything it ever wanted doesn’t feel like how the Robot expected it’d feel like.

Now all the Robot can do is look out the window, watch the snow fall, and remember back to when the Robot actually had a reason to want something.

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“The World Out There”

It’s the middle of the night, and he should be asleep in his bed Instead he’s opening his window and poking out his head He stares up at the heavens, gazing at the stars     While listening to the sounds of distant passing cars.

The world out there seems strange, and so dark and scary People die in planes, or eaten by monsters fat and hairy. Kidnappers will steal you from school, and terrorists shoot you in the face Evil ghosts will haunt your soul, working in tandem with aliens from space.

Bank robbers take you hostage, and shove your nose into your brain Or mustachioed villains tie you to the tracks, and have you run over by a train. The world doesn’t really feel real, as he ponders it from the safety of his room But he knows that these things happen, it is statistically safe to assume.

The vastness of the night, even as the stars twinkle in the sky Overwhelms him with the possibilities, of ways to live and die His world sometimes feel small, surrounded by just his family and his friends But as he looks out his bedroom window, he can see the world never ends.

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“Just One More Wasted Day”

As nighttime turns to day, and daytime turns to night You sit alone in your room, bathed in your laptop’s light

Thinking back to your youth, remembering all that you have seen, Your best times were always spent Staring at your computer screen.

So while life is passing by, As you spend it clicking and scrolling away It must be fine for now, since it’s just one more wasted day.

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“A Different Life”

The whirring of the ceiling fan blends into a silent soothing hum, as Kyle feels himself get lost in the hypnotic blades circling endlessly above.

The cool gentle air brushes his arms and face, but it doesn’t feel real… as if he’s not meant to be here, right now, in this life.  An empty sensation creeps over him, one he has felt in the quiet moments of night, and he senses what could only be his soul hovering above his shell of a body.

Could he have had a different life?  One without a job, three kids, and an understanding wife?  To think of his life now, it doesn’t feel like his own… like he’s just a passenger on a train following tracks laid down long before he got here.  He can’t even quite articulate completely what is tingling in the back of his brain, but it’s there.

He can see himself on an airplane, flying somewhere, anywhere, alone… but that doesn’t quite feel real either.  It’s just another “this”.

And maybe that version of him on that airplane feels the same.  Nothing changes.

Reality sucks back into his consciousness, as he hears his wife and kids playing in the hallway, their existence reminding him that he forgot to go to the grocery store for eggs and cereal.

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“Write When You Find Work”

Young Orlo loved his family, but as one of thirteen children growing up in a squalid two-room dirt shack, he needed to leave.  Now.

So once he was finally 12 years old and thus a fully grown man, he left a note for his parents that he was going to stop being such a ceaseless burden and head West to look for a better life.  He snuck out before the sunrise with nothing but a hat he found on a dead hobo in a ditch, the clothes his mother stitched him, and his favourite stick and bindle.

He promised to write when he found work… he was going to make them proud.

As he had decided to do ever since he was a youthful and romantic 11 and a half, he hopped onto the first rusty freight train he saw and planned to ride the rails past the cornfields, past the deserts, all the way to the seemingly mythical Pacific Ocean.

Unfortunately, since the railroads didn’t take kindly to stowaways, he was routinely thrown off the train and beaten to a pulp, but Orlo didn’t let this stop him.  It just slowed him down a bit.

In each town along the way he struggled to find work, and took whatever odd job he could find.  Corn scrudger, spittoon licker, hay de-pile-up-er, race riot instigator, swallowing wasps for the amusement of wealthy land barons– it was all the same junk he could find back home.  Barely able to even pay for fresh moldy dirt for dinner, he’d stay awake each night wondering why he ever left.

Orlo missed his family sumthin’ fierce, and wished more than anything he could know how they were doing… but he couldn’t dare write them yet, not with the nothing he’s accomplished.  He simply didn’t deserve to, it’d break their hearts to know he was such a disappointment, and he’d rather die than do that to Ma and Pa and his 7 sisters and 5 brothers and whatever new siblings his parents had made during the time Orlo was away.  

Inching his way West, Orlo sadly realizes that everywhere he went it was all the same.  He denied that revelation to himself for a few years though, ever hoping but ever failing, with only menial labour and indentured servitude available to a boy of his ruddiness and phrenological cranio-bumpage.

Luckily though, The Great War began for reasons he was never quite sure about (but assumed they knew what they were doing), and Orlo decided to lie about his age so he could go serve and fight.  “At last!”, he thought, “a chance to do something worthy”, as surely becoming a war hero would earn him the right to write home.  It wasn’t “work” specifically, but it was close enough.

Soon after he survived his first encounter with trench warfare with only minor gunshot wounds that nevertheless caused the amputation of his left leg, Orlo finally felt accomplished enough to write home from the hospital room.

He heard back 3 years later.  Turns out everyone is fine.

(Starring my Dad’s Dad cuz it’s my Dad’s birthday!)

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“Where the Wild Ghosts Roam”

Existing alongside our world, in a parallel reality of their own The ghosts wander the land without their worries, or their skin and bone. Theorizing the wild ghost is trapped somewhere between Heaven and Hell, Michelle searches far and wide to find where the poor lost souls dwell.

Entering their dimension, Michelle knew she might not make it back The ghosts will vastly outnumber her, and could very well attack. But they stare blankly ahead, barely giving her a second thought Mindlessly focused on running away from what they hath wrought.

But one ghost stops for a moment, and looks into her eyes And Michelle can see reflected back the way that she dies It’s not particularly gruesome, but unsettling all the same In the end, Michelle knows, she’ll not even remember her own name.

The ghosts seem so empty, she wishes she could take one of them home But Michelle knows she must leave them alone, and let the wild ghosts roam.

(Starring the great Michelle from Tales from the City of Angels and Carpe Diem!)

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“Lost at Sea With a Cooler Full of Blackmarket Human Organs” (Version 2)

Amit kicked and punched to get off the sinking ship As it sunk into the ocean, ending quickly his trip He grabbed his cooler full of organs that he smuggled aboard And floated off all alone, the drowning people ignored.

If he can’t sell these organs, he’ll be totally broke He’d have to live homeless on the street, his life a cruel joke. It’s been several days, and there’s been no sign of land But if a ship comes to his rescue, would they understand?

Because if he’s not found soon, he’ll die lost at sea And that wouldn’t be fun (most indubitably) But if caught with the organs, he’ll be arrested right away So is it even worth it to live another day?

At the very least, he’ll get yelled at a lot. And being yelled at is the worst, so he’d rather not. He racks his brain for schemes to avoid getting caught But each scenario ends with him arrested, and eventually being shot.

He just wants to sell these organs that he rightfully stole It’s been his dream since childhood; his one lifelong goal! Just had to find an unscrupulous rich man who needs a new heart It should have been so easy, but it’s gone wrong from the start.

Now it’s either death and/or jail, and both seem like a curse And no matter how much he dwells, he can’t decide which is worse. :’-/

(Starring my friend, the amazing Amit!)

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“The Ghost Shepherds”

While it was tough for Alfredo and Juan Martinez to watch their poor mother succumb to mental illness in her final years, it was even worse to see that her ghost suffered from the same deranged insanity and that death did not cure her severe psychological problems.

Each night since she died, the ghost of their mother storms around the house screaming, yelling, and gaining more frustrated as she is incapable of actually inflicting serious bodily harm on either Alfredo or his younger brother Juan like she had grown accustomed to… the most her ghostly limbs can manage is a slight scratch, which just makes her even more furious and violent.

Her path through the house is random, so they try to watch her closely while simultaneously avoiding her (not always successfully), and one thing becomes clear— she doesn’t seem to realize she is dead.

Everything she does, no matter how irrational or mean, was something she did before she died.

While they were first used in self-defense, the Martinez Brothers soon discover that they can ‘herd’ their mother’s ghost with BB Guns— as long as they just wing her, and stay out of sight as they do so.

Working together, they hatch a plan to shepherd her ghost to the Mausoleum they bought for her (with the money from their paper routes) so she can both realize she is dead AND see that they still loved her (one of her favourite taunts before she would beat them was that they didn’t love her, so they hoped this will finally prove that they actually do).

Slowly and carefully, they successfully guide their mother with the BB pellets through the small town’s cobblestone streets and finally into the dark, rainy cemetery.

Hiding behind gravestones, they try to decipher their mother’s blue shimmering face as she sees her own name on the mausoleum… does she understand at last?

Unfortunately, it’s hard to say… the sight of her name on the giant tomb seems to enrage her, but the overwhelming proof of her own death appears to override her imbalanced reaction and she slowly fades away into the darkness.

The Martinez Brothers stand up, look at each other, and shrug.

They don’t know if their mother ever knew how much they loved her, but they know they did the best they could.  And that has to be enough.

(Starring the amazing Alfredo and Juan Martinez!)

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“The Aliens Are Always There For Him”

Reggie Bannings smiles wistfully as the Aliens unravel his intestines to perform countless more experiments on his human body, just like they’ve done regularly since he was a child.

He laughs to himself about how it used to scare him, being taken from his bedroom at night… it’s so cute now.

He’s not sure what they’re actually doing to his body, or what the constant odd surgeries and implants are for… all he knows is this: family will leave you, friends will betray you, but the Aliens who have abducted him several times a year since the age of 7 are always there for him.

And despite the abject terror they caused him growing up, the mysterious lost time and random disappearances which have ruined his marriage(s) and career, the skepticism and ridicule he faces when he tries to explain what happened to him… Reggie loves these Aliens.  They’ve been through a lot together, you know?

They’re the one constant in his life, and he is glad he’s old enough now to appreciate it.

Originally Posted 9/30/2011

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