At JUICEBOX HQ, we’ve never really had a case of the Mondays because we don’t have real-people jobs. But for those feeling a bit garfield this A.M., feel free to wallow in other people’s most hated things. Every Monday!
Bryan Lee O’Malley is a twenty-something, award-winning Canadian comic book (or graphic novel, if calling it that makes you feel better) author/artist/guy. His first book was 2003’s Lost At Sea. If you haven’t read it, you should sit down and think long and hard about your life and what it means.
Right now, O’Malley is just a bit famous for his critically acclaimed Toronto-based Scott Pilgrim series (2004 – present). Pilgrim follows the life of the 23-year-old title character who meets the Amazon.ca delivery girl of his dreams. In order to date her, he must fight–and defeat–her seven evil ex-boyfriends. Just like real life. There’s even a battle in Honest Ed’s.
In the past few years, O’Malley has won several big-timey comic awards (including a Harvey Award, a Joe Shuster Award and a Doug Wright Award). And Publishers Weekly named the third volume, Scott Pilgrim & the Infinite Sadness, one of 2006’s best comics. When he’s not busy receiving awards, O’Malley finds time to do some solo-ish lo-fi music stuff that you should listen to.
Anyway, he’s a big deal. Right this very second, Pilgrim is being adapted into a big Hollywood movie by Edgar Wright (Shaun of the Dead), with Michael Cera (Arrested Development, Juno) as Scott.
But enough about people whose last names aren’t O’Malley.
I’ve only ever had a couple of dayjobs. They were all pretty okay, to be honest. I mean, they were temporary, and most of them were pretty low-stress. Yeah. Not an auspicious beginning here.
Every haircut I ever got in Toronto was the worst haircut of my life. I was unable to find a good hairdresser, not that I tried very hard. Plus, I was constantly broke, so I always ended up at the sketchy place on the corner, spent ten bucks, and looked like a moron for the next three weeks.
The really gung-ho fans of… anything. Sci-fi, Buffy, whatever. I see a lot of these people in my line of work, and it’s both charming and completely depressing. I can’t even find the words to explain. This might be because I usually see these folks at comic book conventions, which are, of course, their preferred habitat, and where they tend to come out of their shells.
But actually, pretentious 21-year-old music snobs and independent record store clerks are the worst subculture. The nerds are fucking awesome compared to them.
I went on a blind date off the INTERNET one time. In university. It was easily the most mortifying night of my life. God, I was such a tool in university.
Organized religion. No, organized sports. No… just… just organization itself, maybe?
I get major buyer’s remorse. I think I have real anxiety attacks about purchasing things that are more than, like, $40. I seriously get a little panicky just thinking about it. Anyway, the worst thing I ever bought was a Volcom t-shirt at Pac Sun in California, summer 2001. Probably $20. It was hideous. I returned it like a half hour later, but I’ll never forget the shame.
Worst way to die
I think maybe being gutted while tied to a stake in the desert. And scorpions are crawling up your legs? Or, you know, the gradual breakdown of the human body. Dying of old age is possibly the worst. I used to be obsessed with death when I was a gnarly teenager, but now I believe I dislike it.