Hi, my name is David Paleo

And this being the Internet, here's a close up of my fanny






















Beware, if you look deep enough inside that tormented right eye, you'll find that i'm lacking an appendix; be quiet, don't panic, i keep it here, in this jar

















"My body is my temple", yeah, good luck praying, chanting, spasms talking and don't forget the handling of snakes, you do gotta handle the poisonous snakes; me?, i think the body its a very poor organizer of the internal organs.

Jar it all!


















Ahem.

Hi again.

I am a cartoonist from argentina, and before you ask, no, i don't have a clue about any hypothetical argentinian comics scene, i guess i should get out more, but as a virile, outdoors man, i like to read about life to the fullest.


And as long as i'm blabbling about reading, i confess that i learnt english reading old Floyd Gottffredson's comics, i hope this fact somehow clarifies my constant enmanglement of the noble english language.


I was a artistic kid in a working class home, so my first inspirations came from the TV, all the classic Bob Clampett, Tex Avery & et all animation shorts that were the staple of kiddie programs back in the 70's, i will allways love those loonies.

Also loonies like Ornette Coleman, Raymond Roussel and Jean Dubuffet... and synthesis, i love synthesis!



For the sake of archeology, here's the first strip i ever published, in this "countercultural" mag called Cerdos & Peces, in the other side of the page where's my strip is, there's a W. Burroughs interview! This thing was actually sold in newstands, impossible to think of it now, when rebellion means a more agressive scheme to milk money out of your neighbour, Donald Trump's "you're fired" this age Marlon Brando's "what ya'got?". And no, i won't discuss my stupid alias of the time.








I was fifteen and obviously a delightfully charming young fellow, you could very well imagine the viciousness with wich ancient, frail patrician ladies went after each other in filthy back alleys, expensive false teeth clenched, swirling switchblades on a blueblood binge while pearl necklaces exploded under lashing bike chains, all over who would be honored with my presence at tea time.


But i was unhappy with my work, so i quit trying to be a pro and concentrated in just drawing. Fifteen years passed while i worked plenty of shitty jobs and drew all the time, housed a couple extra cuckoos in my skull clock in the proccess, wich lead me to draw long autistic comics with titles like Arachneed, Growing Frenzy and Draw Dust From The Droolers, that i rather doubt will ever see the light of day, all this while i developed a rainbow of vices wich, since slowly getting my life back in track five years ago i'm trying to shed away, i gotta do the comics!

Here's some new stuff













oh man... i'm gonna faint... did you read that? twenty years since the previous strip and i haven't progressed JACKSHIT! i'm a fucking moron! its the same old, "Todo pasa por el culo" (translated: "Everything -as in everything of substance, of meaning- goes through the ass") crap!! here's God: "Through the ass!!!" here's love: "Through the ass!!!" here's decency, gentlesness, reason, beauty, learning... "Through the ass with all of it!!!"


See ya at the other end.