She gave me strength and determination. She gave me the understanding that a woman is to be cherished, protected and adored. She gave me a firm hand when I acted in the foolish manner that young, rambunctious lads tend to as they struggle to grow into manhood. She forged my will in the warm fires of her unwavering love and care. She has made the man you see before you; she gave birth to El Negro Poncho and I honor her with every swing of my blade. No matter how many wicked men I send to their hellish fates, I shall always be your baby boy. Happy Mother’s Day, Mama…

Now, let us see how many foul men must die today. - The Ballad of El Negro Poncho de los Abs

“Sister Valentina, you can come out now.”

She emerged, tentatively at first, from the closet. The look on her face said it all. “Do you HAVE to KILL every man that you come across?”
“Is this a trick question?”

-The Ballad of El Negro Poncho de los Abs.

More to come…

Noodles to die for…  Eat @ Joe’s

“The Ballad of El Negro Poncho de los Abs”

“I suppose I should be used to it by now. All I want to do is sit, enjoy a bowl of hot noodles or a couple of loaded carné asada tacos. A cold cerveza. But the whispers of the local tough guys always ruin it. My blade, the Steel Lady, I try to keep her sheathed, but when these men come around the end result is always the same: bloodshed. The Steel Lady, her desire to taste the blood of the wicked is quickly sated. Me? My noodles have grown cold yet again. Maybe I need to eat faster…” - The Ballad of El Negro Poncho de los Abs

Art by Howard Russell, Lyrics by Pumkin Escobar

I’m gonna make this quick cause JEOPARDY! is about to come on.  The Cliche That Kills, El Negro Poncho de los Abs, is going to be a webcomic and we are aiming squarely for Artist Alley at the 2012 New York Comic Con!  The art will be handled by Mr. Howard Russell (U’ve seen his skills tumbl thru this blog already, of course), lyrics, by yours truly.  Now…  I gotta go, cause I’m missing JEOPARDY!

So this is what happened.  Howard Russell was feelin frisky one night and decided to panel out the scene where El Negro meets the kid.  This is a baseball leaving the park, people.  Enjoy.  I have a feeling there will be more where this came from, so stay tooned…

The heat was blazing down on me; I could feel myself parched almost to the bone, behind my eyes scorching red with a white hot center. I blinked my eyes open to a hazy blur of what I could swear was… a kid. Little pie-faced kid smiling down at me upside down. “Pardon me señor, maybe it is none of my business, but laying out here in the sun like this really could bring you to your death.” Fantastic. He speaks AND he’s a smarmy little shit to boot. I tried moving my arms and legs and then I remembered that I was staked to the ground, spread eagle, like a giant, human X. “Now,” the kid continued. “I do not know whom you have crossed to find yourself in such a way, but I am willing to bet that when you crossed them, you did not expect that you would find yourself like this. If you do not get some help soon, you will be human jerky!” My vocal chords managed to scratch together enough for me to talk without starting a brush fire in my throat. “Listen kid, are you gonna cut me loose or do you want a cover charge for the comedy?” He sighed loudly and rolled his eyes before producing a large knife and starting on the ropes. “No one appreciates good original material anymore…” - The Ballad of El Negro Poncho de los Abs

“She had hair like fire. Each curve of her body was more dangerous than the last. And if you crossed her, quick as the wind, there was that pump shotgun…” - The Ballad of El Negro Poncho de los Abs: The Naked Kill

“The bad men talk about it. In whispers and hushed tones. The stories are never the same. Some say it’s an ice cream truck, others insist it’s a popsicle stand, but to the ones who have actually come across the little man with the hand-pushed cart, they know the truth. Joe’s Sunshine Noodles serves up hot, steaming vengeance by the bowl… and when your order is ready, nothing can save you. Not even extra soy sauce.” - The Ballad Of El Negro Poncho de los Abs

“Besos…”

The Ballad of El Negro Poncho de los Abs

early-onset-of-night:

Write. Art. Sing. Dance. Pick up that guitar and never put it down.

Life is too short to worry about money or security. If you had it, what then? What to strive for? There’s a reason every band’s early albums are better than their later ones: HUNGER. How can you sing honestly, meaningfully about…