Meet the “Deizel Weezel,” or the “Deez” or or “Wheez” or “Easy Deez” or “Deez-eeze” as he is known in his native Keokuck, Iowa. “Deizel Weezel” is actually the nickname he gave himself… for a nickname to stick, generally it must be assigned by one’s peers. Not so with the Deez… he gave it to himself in his Chevy lusting teenage years, before he even owned a car. He is actually usually the only one who refers to himself as “The Deizel Weezel.” This generally occurs upon introducing himself (or certain parts of his anatomy), to a member of the opposite gender… “Meet the Deizel Weezel, baby!” Others who have encountered him unanimously opt for one of the other variants of the handle.

In actuality, the Deez has never owned or driven a diesel-fueled vehicle. However, every vehicle he has owned has been a Chevrolet, and every vehicle he has owned has cost him more per month than his rent.

His resume has included a wide variety of professions… Carnival Worker, Gigolo, Dish Pig, Crank Dealer, Burglar, Newpaper Vending Distributor, Bartender… unfortunately, he has been a complete failure at every career he has ever attempted.

In spite of occupational failure, there is one thing at which he has been a resounding success. The Deez has the single largest collection of mesh shirts in the entire world (although he remains clueless about this fact… the shirts are simply his chosen uniform). Indeed, he only owns one shirt that is not meshed, which he uses for special occassions, such as weddings, funerals and proms (which, although he is 28, he still attends at every opportunity). For such occassions, he has his tromp l’oeil tuxedo t-shirt.

Although some may find this fashion statement unappealing, the Deez has a “passion for fashion.” He is always accutely aware of his appearance and how he presents himself. He once also had a huge collection of different single hoop earrings that he would wear in his pierced ear. He thought this gave him the look of a bold individualist, but an associate informed him that he was wearing it in the “fag ear,” and in spite of his fervent belief that the other ear is the “fag ear,” he nevertheless ceased wearing earrings entirely the next day (after beating his associate bloody, of course). However, the entire collection of single-hoop earrings remains to this day under his bed like a dark, dirty secret (next to his collection of Hustlers).

The earring fiasco had a happy ending, though… as a new off-center accoutrement to highlight his bold persona he has adopted an always-attached black toothpick to his lower lip, which he buys in bulk at Wal-Mart. To his credit, he can make one pick last the entire day, which is no easy feat by any measurement.

Rogues’ Gallery #1: “HONEST” SAM DINSMORE

I’ve decided to start a new feature (or possibly features) to fill in gaps where I don’t have time to do a Soapy strip… the working name for the first new feature is “Rogue’s Gallery,” but I may end up changing it. This should make it so there are less days here where nothing gets posted, of which there have been too many lately. Anyhow, here’s the first one.


Although known as “Honest” Sam, Sam cheats at cards, steals candy from the grocery (jelly nougats) and would claim to like the Beatles when asked even though he finds them boring and overrated, and once smashed his car stereo with a ball-peen hammer in a tequila rage as a reaction to the 26th verse of Hey Jude.

Those days of angry inebriation are behind him now, though… he’s learned to meditate. When he feels his blood begin to rise, he now pictures Abraham Lincoln’s calming visage floating benignly four inches in front of his face. He tried other presidents first… Washington, Jackson, Fillmore… Lincoln seemed too easy… but Lincoln’s mug just harmonizes alpha waves like nobody’s business.

He made the mistake of telling one of his co-workers at the bank about it… thus the inaccurate nom de plume.

He’s fine with it though… it can’t hurt, considering the embezzlement and all. Only one month to go and he’s off to South America for a new life… he imagines that Abraham will be an infrequent visitor as he relaxes on white sand beaches with an alcohol-free pina colada. In the meantime, he’s visualizing Abe levitating in front of his monitor for a minimum of three hours a day, patiently ignoring the spreadsheets, databases and powerpoint presentations that one must endure when pulling a bank job in the early 21st century.

#93: King Kenny’s Inspiration

Well… it’s been a while. Hope there are still some readers out there. Helllooooo! Anybody there?

I could make excuses (like I got busy at work, went on a trip and got sick for a week)… but I won’t. You see, the delay is not my fault! It’s Soapy’s!

That damn chicken has been so busy appearing other places, she doesn’t have time for her own strip!

Why, just take a look at her moonlighting over in the Joshua Tree!

3rd Place Soapy Pong Champion of the World David Steinlicht sent me a tryptich of Soapy postcards…

She made her triple-x debut in Shad Petosky’s Lutefisk Sushi: Crisis of the Infantile Arts comic for the Lutefisk Sushi show (we’ll spare your soul and only show you one panel from this one)…

And then Uptown Girl creator Bob Lipski gave me this swell drawing of Uptown Girl and Soapy…

All will be added to the Soapy sightings gallery when I get back in the groove…