Category Archives: Joe

I hope a shark tries to attack me so dolphins can come to my rescue

It is shark week on the Discovery channel and for whatever reason, no matter how frightened people are of sharks, they can’t help but be drawn into stories about them killing people.

Yesterday I was lounging on my couch waiting to go to work when I saw the craziest story about a shark attack.

Three dudes were surfing. One caught a wave while the other two remained in the shallower end. One was ripped out into deeper water. His friend said the thing was gigantic and looked like a whale so he swam to shore, thinking his friend was dead. The third surfer met up with his friend on shore and watched the attack from afar. He said it looked like there were five sharks attacking, having a feeding frenzy on their friend. The man who originally left his friend out there made eye contact with his friend and realized it wasn’t five sharks. It was a shark and a group of dolphins. The dolphins were circling around his friend and protecting it from the ungodly beast. They’re like the sea police. He swam out and put his friend on his bored as they swam to shore. Some of the dolphins provided assistance and protection while he was taking him back.

This week in the Respect Market dolphin stock rose 57 points.

This story had me saying crazy stuff all day like, “Man I hope a shark tries to attack me so dolphins can come to my rescue.”


Then it got more extreme to the point of, “I hope they attack one of my friends while I’m lying on the beach talking to some crazy hot babe. I’ll tell her that I’ll be right back and head to the water. The lifeguard will try stopping me saying something crazy like, ‘Don’t be a hero!’ ‘Leave no man behind,’ is what I’d respond with. He tries stopping me one more time, which results in him getting punched in the face. I jump into the water and swim to my bloody friend. I punch the shark in the face and its attention is directed towards me now.

Enter dolphins.

They swim around the shark while I get my friend. I throw him on one of the dolphins back as I ride the other to shore. I look like Aquaman. We make it back to shore where all the humans greet us. I kiss the dolphin on the forehead and tell him thanks. He winks and says, ‘Anytime.’ I walk back to crazy hot babe I mentioned before while stepping over the bleeding lifeguard with a bloody nose. My friends fine too.”

I also envisioned that if a shark attacked me and took my legs and an arm, (because that’s what happens on shark week, people lose their limbs). I’m lying in the hospital. The doctor says, “There isn’t much we can do.”


“Call the government,” I demand. The government then approves the idea of granting me bionic limbs. They give me legs that run as fast as a train. They look cool, too, they’re not like those skinny legs they give people or the plastic ones. These are hardcore metal. They connect to all my nerves so I have great control over them. The braking system is amazing as well. Plus, I can shatter bones when I kick people.

My bionic arm has super strength. They hook me up with a rotating system of gadgets on it. Once again, it’s connected to my nerves so I have complete control over this. There’s a grappling hook, gun, flamethrower and some other cool accessory I didn’t think of yesterday. There’s a communication system in there and a GPS.

I agree to do missions for the government with this new equipment until the president demands something ridiculous of me.

“I will not kill those innocent people Mr. President!”

My services have been terminated and now the government is after me.

At this point, I fell asleep. There were no cool dreams to follow.

Be safe in the water, most likely none of the above would happen if you’re attacked by a shark.


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My main function in this office is to sit at a computer and write from 9:30-1:00 and then from 2:00-5:30.

“Impossible,” I say.

So when I’m not writing at this computer, I’m usually sleeping or looking around for something else to do. Last week I decided to read one of the books in the office, Cleburne, by Justin Murphy. It’s a graphic novel that discusses one of the Confederate generals from the Civil War. I find History interesting and when I read the back of the book and saw General Patrick Cleburne wanted the slaves to fight for the South in exchange for their freedom, I knew I had to read it.

I’ve always had this vision of all Confederates to be a Neil Young song: full of racists who spit tobacco and torture with bull whips. Justin Murphy does quite the job making a Confederate general a sympathetic hero. I went from not knowing who this man was, to instantly wanting to know everything about him.

Cleburne was an immigrant from Ireland, his unit had their own flag since they did not ride with the Confederate’s cross and stars and he was well liked by the people.

The art gets incredibly violent, which was a plus. It’s not done in a distasteful way either, it’s the Civil War, there was going to be blood. Story wise, I loved it. It is written in such a way that you’re learning something, although parts were fictionalized but you’re entertained at the same time. You get a nice view of Southern life and what it was like to have loved ones away during this war.

This graphic novel has led to the ordering of his biography. I would definitely recommend this book to anyone who is interested in comics or history. It would be great for a kid who has to do a school report but wants to have fun while doing it. Definitely look Patrick Cleburne up. He’s an American hero that isn’t paid much attention.


Buy on Amazon!

Buy on B&N!

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The Imitator

Throughout my life I have imitated those around me.

No matter what the situation, whether it is mocking the way the bus driver says “hello” or the way an old lady walks while pushing her wagon full of groceries. It’s no longer a matter of imitating the speech and actions of the people I see though, now I dress in disguise to aid in the search for a better life.

It’s terribly boring waking up the same person every morning, so I‘ve stopped. Some days I’m an old man fighting a cancer ridden leg. Other days, I’m a suspended detective because I didn’t play the last one by the book. Sometimes I’m the starving artist who can‘t afford decent food due to my passion. Today, I’m Elizabeth.

“Oh no. Not again. You can’t go out dressed like that. I’ll leave you,” her eyes widen.

“I swear to God Johnny, I’ll leave you if you step outside wearing that.”

I watch smoke come out of her mouth with each “no.” She doesn’t bother taking the cigarette out of her mouth as she scrubs the breakfast dishes.  She lets it stay hanging from her lower lip. Haley has been my girlfriend for the past year. I don’t know how she puts up with me, but she does.

“You say the same thing every day- ‘I got to go.’ If you’re gonna leave then leave.”

“This is my house, you moron. I’ll kick you out on the street and then maybe you can actually become Maurice,” she says through lips hugging a cigarette. I watch it burn rather than listen to her speak. I hope it burns her lip; maybe that will finally shut her up.

“I gotta go,” I tell her as if I’m in a hurry.


“Where? Where do you go? You don’t have a job. We live off my first grade teacher salary.

“Yeah, in a private school though, so you make more money than you would if it was public school,” I say to make her angry. It works.

She gives me the face- the one where she lifts her nose and raises her eyebrows. She looks like a bull. A sexy bull.

“None of your ‘friends’,” she uses air quotes, “have jobs. You just go out dressed as a different loser everyday and annoy people on the streets.”

“How does my hair look?” It’s amazing how mad she gets about this. It’s mostly jealousy. She’s convinced with every personality I take on, it’s a new lover I take on as well.


“That’s not my name,” she knows that pisses me off.

“Johnny don’t do this. Please don’t go out…”

“Haley, your boyfriend left last night.”

“Fine, Elizabeth if you see my boyfriend tell him he’s a jerk.”

“Oh God Haley, I wish I could stay and talk about this with you, but I got to go. I’ll talk to you later. Feel better,” I say while walking towards the door giving her a kissy face.

“Jerk,” she mutters under her breathe as I exit.

She finally puts out the cigarette.

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The Misadventures of Patman and the Inevitable Joe!

In 2003, two characters hit loose-leaf paper for the first time. One was a flamboyant, over the top loud mouth that was given a magical cane that gave him the ability to fly. The other was a trying to be cool, over the top smart alec that was bit by a wolf, thereby making him invincible.

Together the duo formed the team of Patman and the Inevitable Joe. Pat Stackpole and I created the two to feed our egos and write a story about villains. After five issues we couldn’t take it anymore and reformed to heroes. Throughout the years our world got larger and more peculiar. Our friends would be maddened as we talked about the series. We would sit there saying things like, “Remember when we were trying to push this character,” and our angry friends would say, “Push? Who are you guys pushing ideas to? You’re the only two part of this operation. One comes up with the idea and the other Okays it. Idiots!”

After doing several issues, we would go on hiatus. Months would go by were no process would be made. Then we’d get together and pump out another series. As the years went on, we got more sophisticated. Loose-leaf turned to computer paper. We started coloring some things in. It was no joke. We would just fold paper together and make two page comics. Since then over 70 comics have been made. Six years later, Brittany has given us the opportunity to revamp the series and put it on the internet, which is pretty exciting.

So here, for the first time publicly, we present the first issue of The Misadventures of Patman and the Inevitable Joe! Enjoy. Click to enlarge!

1 size

2 size


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Dark Horrors: Book Title Poetry #1

Dark horrors.

The master of the world is

Doing Time in

the building opposite of here, writing his

disappearance diary which starts with the words,

Goodbye welfare,

goodbye renting.

Tokyo is my garden.” His

manuscript of ashes sits in the

lost and found next to

Ms. Zephyr’s Notebook while

The walking man passes

A Patch of Dreams on his

Quest for the Missing Girl.

Stolen hearts

United in Hate, travel

from home to home

searching for yesterday and

the people that time forgot.

The walking man passes a

valley of fire, disarming

tiger traps before entering

the time machine traveling to

totem poles and sculpted

ice warriors.

Princess Sultana’s Daughters tell him,

“She loves you,” as he continues

proving God wrong.

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That Finger

I’m sitting in the office reading All About Weddings by Ellen Bell when that very important question everyone asks themselves at least eight times during the span of their life comes up: “If I had to lose a finger, which one would it be?” I give the question ten seconds before deciding on the ring finger. It’s the only logical choice. Every other finger serves a certain function that I would not be able to part with. They are of great value and importance to me and should be to all fellow humans.

The Thumb- also known as the opposable thumb is possibly the most important finger on the hand. It separates us from most animals. It helps with grabbing and holding objects; you’ll never see a cat comfortably hold a cup. When given an idea or positively answering a question we can give a thumbs-up to show our confidence or agreement to whatever is being presented to us. It’s the hitchhiking finger. Am I really ready to part with the tool that allows me to travel upstate with complete strangers for free? I think not. It’s also a great combination finger, but I’ll get to those later, so for now I’ll just give the thumb a thumbs up and move on to the next finger.

The Pointer- its ridiculous the amount of uses this one finger has. First off, it points stuff out. Things I like, things I don’t like, awesome things, disgusting things. For children, they can have that moment where both kids point at each other and say, “He did it!” while the person doing the yelling puts it in front of them, bringing it up and down with that “tisk tisk” thought process. It picks the nose. It’s the go to move for white boys while we dance. Maybe I should get rid of this finger? But no. This is the finger I shove in the faces of people I don’t like. It pokes them in the chest as to say, “Hey you, I’m not liking the attitude.” It’s another great combination finger.

The Middle Finger- two jobs. One is to flip people off. The other is it makes a great combination with its brother fingers.

I think it’s time to get to combination fingers already. The thumb and pointer can make a gun. You can pretend to shoot people while you wink and say smooth things. I’ve put myself on the spot to say something smooth. I got nothing, but I imagine it ending with me saying “toots” or “dame”. What is smooth in my head turns out to be rather offensive to women. The thumb and pinky have the surfer signal going on. I suppose that’s pretty neat. The pointer and pinky have the “rock on!” devil horns. The pointer and middle finger have the international sign for peace and rabbit ears in photographs. They also make scissors for Rock, Paper, Scissors. The only good combo the ring finger makes with the others is the Vulcan salute. Nothing else.

The Ring Finger- people put rings on them. Wow, watch out. It’s a terrible combo finger. Some cultures believe it to be a magical finger. That’s a load of bull. It can’t even stand up all the way without the assistance of the others. All About Weddings explains rings were put on that finger on the left hand because it was believed the heart and that finger were connected through an artery. If you can see the expression on my face, then you know I’m not buying it. I have no problem putting rings on other fingers; after all, Green Lanterns wear their power rings on the middle finger. Add that to reasons to keep the middle finger.

The Pinky- some call it the little finger. Many people choose this to be the finger they lose because they think the ring can pick up the pinky’s slack. I’ll tell you right now that it can’t. The pinky works well with the others. Several functions were named in the combinations. The main reason why the ring finger can never be the pinky is the same reason the pinky is so vital to human culture. Pinky promises. If you swore to me and stuck out your ring finger on your four fingered hand I wouldn’t accept and believe you to be a liar. From kindergarten on that’s how you let people know you’re not lying. Fact- they make you swear on a bible at court because it would take too long to go around a courtroom pinky promising everyone.

I’m looking at my hand now and it would look bizarre without the ring finger or any finger for that matter. I wonder what finger cartoon characters are missing. Technically it would be the middle finger because with only four there is no middle, therefore it loses its name.

The more I look at my hand, the more I never want to lose a finger. Sure it would hurt, but more importantly it wouldn’t look right. Plus, the only way I’m going to lose my ring finger is if some psycho asks me which of my fingers I want him to cut off. The only other ways would result in me losing other fingers or a whole hand.

I’m uncomfortable now.

I never want to lose any fingers, but if I had to it would definitely be the ring fingers.



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Helloooo Joe!


I would like to welcome Mr. Joe Pugliesi to the Midpoint family.

A rising senior at Brooklyn College, Joe has joined us as an intern for the summer. You will have the pleasure of reading his posts weekly, right here.

Let the mayhem begin.

– Brittany

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