Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #9

* Part 3 of 6 of the Civil War II storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #9! In the previous installment, Ms. Marvel is tasked by Captain Marvel to help a group of teens spearhead a crime-busting movement that involves busting the crime before it even happens! Ms. Marvel is caught within a morality issue that Captain Marvel, her hero, is condoning. This could end in a brass-knuckled fist fight. Just metal hitting teeth at 50 mph. It’s going to be brutal fun! Stay tuned!


Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #9 [September, 2016]
Written by: G. Willow Wilson

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #9

Sixteen-and-a-half years ago, in Karachi, Kamala’s mother slumps pregnantly on a balcony overlooking the neighborhood. Aamir, likely six years old or something, has stayed up all night watching “Powder-Poof Girls” to practice his English in preparation for the move to New Jersey. The kid is very excited to move and live for another 16.5 years jobless.

Muneeba’s mother comes out with a couple of mugs of tea. Muneeba is worried about losing their sense of Pakistani culture, especially with Aamir being so young. And the new baby? She’ll know nothing but video games and Captain America! What the fuck is that? Muneeba wants to stay!

Muneeba’s mother is like “look, bitch, travelling is in your blood. Why, her own mother walked from Mumbai to Karachi with no shoes while pregnant and carrying a 60” television on her back during Partition. Surely you can board a plane, whiner.

To help her feel better, Muneeba’s mother gives her those fancy bangles that we keep seeing get passed down from generation to generation. “Oh, Ammi… they’re so old-fashioned,” Muneeba gripes. Her mother is like “fine, pass them down to your own daughter then, you ungrateful snob.” Muneeba wonders if there’s something more to them than meets the eye. Her mother agrees. She’s always had this nagging feeling like there’s some secret strength they carry, waiting to appear…

*opening credits, Happy Days music blares*

We cut to the scene already in progress: Ms. Marvel in Josh’s house. He asks her what the ever-loving fuck she’s doing in his smelly bedroom. The rest of the Pre-Crime stoppers rush into the room and tackle Josh to the floor. “Joshua Richardson, we’re detaining you to prevent to the crime you are about to commit,” says Jonah, bending his arm behind his back cop-style. Ms. Marvel urges everyone to slow down and take a deep breath before someone gets a knee on their neck. Heather confiscates the laptop. “You’re planning to cause a power surge in the electrical grid at Coles Academic High School at 9:55am tomorrow morning,” says Becky. “A fire will break out. There will be casualities.”

Josh is like “slow your roll, bruh” but doesn’t really deny it either, much to Ms. Marvel’s chagrin. His parents burst into the room like Kramer going “MUH SON, DON’T TAKE MUH SON” but Josh is like “yeah, they’re gonna take me. Sorry.”

 Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #9

Nice crotch shot. What is this? A Batman comic book cover?

Becky tases the kid in the nutsack. He says “ACK!” like Cathy and collapses. Josh’s parents cry in each other’s arms. Ms. Marvel slumps on the stairs conflicted and dejected. “It was supposed to be glorious,” she thinks. “But it isn’t. And I don’t know how to fix it. But I know someone who can.”

She immediately visits Captain Marvel in low Earth orbit, somehow. Captain asks Ms. what the hell she’s doing in space like some sort of space woman. Ms. Marvel lays out the whole situation, says that she personally knows the kid who is going to melt down his school but hasn’t even done it yet.

“This was never going to be easy or simple, kiddo,” Captain Marvel says, placing a hand on Ms. Marvel’s shoulder. Squeezing it in a death grip. Knocking her unconscious. Just kidding. Or am I? “And I’m sorry your friend is in trouble, but if we only hold people we don’t like accountable, we’re not on the side of justice. You have to be strong now. Do what’s right even if it hurts.”

Ms. Marvel tells her that Becky brandished a taser, and Captain Marvel is like “Yeah, that’s not cool. Keep them in line, idiot. That’s your job. What’s the matter, sister? Can’t handle it?

Captain Marvel turns her back to the kid and dismisses her. Ms. Marvel folds her arms and looks at her mentor with skepticism.

 Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #9

You want to go to Canada? Get in line, pal! This country blows!

Later that day, in a warehouse on the waterfront, Becky and the Cadets are dressed like Nazi soldiers as they walk up and down rows of windowed cells full of bad guys who haven’t even committed the crimes yet that they were thinking about committing.

Marco goes to Becky and tells her they may have a problem. “The press suspects we’ve been lying about having the authority to detain people here,” he says, brows furrowed. Becky’s idea is to throw the press Hijinx if they come snooping around. But Josh, whose face is masked like Hannibal Lecter, poses a threat until 10am the next morning! Keep him detained.

Bruno, Nakia, and Zoe, who somehow know that Josh is at this particular waterfront warehouse, burst in and demand to see Josh. He’s being held illegally!

“Zoe?!” yells Josh incredulously.

“Don’t ‘Zoe’ me! Were you seriously planning to fry the school’s power grid because I broke up with you?! What kind of demented sicko logic is that?!”

Zoe tells Becky that her mom’s a bigshot lawyer and her dad’s a bigshot city council member, so get that kid out of that cell now before she gets subpoenaed and/or city council’d! Becky acquiesces, but only for five minutes. Then he’s back in there shitting in the corner of the cell like the little rat that he is.

Josh tries to defend himself to Zoe by saying that he didn’t want anyone to get hurt, he just wanted to show people how much he’s hurting by bursting like a destructive geyser of toxic masculinity. “I never wanted to burn down the school. I just wanted to scare people,” he argues. A real winner, this kid.

Well, Zoe empathizes more than any rational teenage girl should over this. She tells him that their breakup had nothing to do with him in particular. She was just all oogly-googly in the head, you know? “The whole world almost ending thing made me think about a bunch of stuff. I realized I had to be honest about some things.”

Then she admits that she’s a lesbian with a crush on Nakia. Surprise!

 Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #9

If by “extralegally” you mean “very legally”, which is definitely the definition based on common sense, then yes!

Meanwhile, outside the warehouse, Ms. Marvel gets mobbed by the media. And by that I mean one correspondent and one camera. Ms. Marvel tells them to hold their respective horses and let her sort some shit out. She promises she’ll have plenty to say after a moment and, furthermore, w– *closes warehouse door on them*

Inside, Becky and Bruno are arguing about the ethics of keeping a kid prisoner for a crime he didn’t even commit yet. “If he’s messed up, keeping him in a concrete room by himself isn’t gonna make him less messed up,” Zoe says. Good job, G. Willow Wilson. Bringing out the mental health therapy argument for crime. That’ll go over well with your many, many far-right conservative readers!

Ms. Marvel is so tired of hearing the arguing that she embiggens herself to fill the room to get their collective attention. “GUYS!” she screams, causing Bruno to fall backwards hilariously. Possibly on top of a cactus or a cake. Ms. Marvel tells them that there’s a crowd outside ready to hang everyone by their nuts if they don’t come up with some fast answers. And since Captain Marvel put her in charge, they’re all gonna do what she says! Goddamnit!!

But, yeah, Josh stays in the holding cell since he’s going to blow up the school. Better not risk that. “I can’t believe this!” exclaims Bruno. “You’re gonna side with Basic Becky and the Junior Fascists against your own friends?!” And Nakia is like “Ms. Marvel sucks, we’re not friends with her anyway. *sticks tongue out* Bluh!”

The day is over. Kamala is sleeping at the kitchen table, face covered in cereal. Tyesha whispers to Aamir while they’re doing dishes that she’s worried about Kamala. She’s always tired and she doesn’t seem to have any friends anymore. Go fix it.

“Hey. Booger. Wake up,” he says, poking her roughly with his poop-smeared finger. He tells her to say her evening prayer and go to bed. Also, Bruno called earlier about going to get Josh, whatever that means. Anyway, I–

Kamala grabs her bag and books it out of the house, dons her Ms. Marvel clothes, and makes a fierce face that could scare cats and the elderly. Her friend is going behind her back? Nuts to that! She needs to stay in Captain Marvel’s good graces or she’ll never be allowed in the Avengers!

“The Cadets put an electromagnetic lock on the door of the warehouse to make it harder to break into. And knowing Bruno, he probably built some sort of fancy-pants device out of paper clips and chewing gum to get through it.”

Oh, he gets through it, all right.

 Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #9

Bruno! No! You forgot to slather on your anti-explosion salve!

She finds Bruno standing outside the warehouse slightly messed up and shocked, but verbal. She thinks he’s ok at first until he collapses on the ground. Likely dead. Oh well.

Final Thoughts

Bruno’s funeral will be held on Tuesday. Visiting hours are from 8am – 6pm. We’re going to launch his remains to Mars where he always wanted to visit. Crying is prohibited.

Star Wars: The High Republic (Vol. 1), Issue #5 – “Attack of the Hutts”

* Part 5 of 5 of the There Is No Fear storyline *

Welcome to Ghostliness & Nerfherders Presents: Star Wars: The High Republic (Vol. 1), Issue #5 – “Attack of the Hutts”! In the previous installment, the Drengir have really infiltrated Sskeer’s mind and he’s a huge asshole about it. Luckily, Keeve talks him out of it and everyone lives happily ever after. Basically.

Except that the Starlight Beacon is currently being attacked by a Drengir that was manifesting itself in a Hutt corpse…

And that the Hutts have arrived on Sedri Minor to take it over…

But, yeah, other than that, everyone lives happily ever after!

Except me.


Star Wars: The High Republic (Vol. 1), Issue #5 [July, 2021]
Written by: Cavan Scott
“Attack of the Hutts”

Star Wars: The High Republic (Vol. 1), Issue #5

Look at the cover! Sskeer is dying! Keeve is sad! I’m not emotionally invested in either of these characters!

Eventually, after the Hutts show up that is, a battle ensues. Keeve whips her lightsaber around blocking all manner of enemy fire. Even though Ceret is weak as shit, he thinks he can cart civilians to safety using only his well-oiled muscley back bolstered by THE FORCE!! A Hutt advances on the group with a giant, 10-story monster of a beast of burden that I don’t recognize because I’m not the biggest Star Wars nerd on the planet (yet).

Ceret sucks so hard at keeping this beast at bay that he gets crushed under its giant foot, and if he isn’t dead then my name ain’t Mortimer Aloysius McGriddle.

Before the battle, though, the Hutts – led by Myarga the Benevolent – tried to diplomatically tell everyone to “get the hell of their planet”. Avar Kriss contests this “our planet” business, stating quite calmly in botched Huttese that Sedri Minor is not in Hutt space. But it’s really quite simple: the Sedri Minorians signed a contract for the Hutt cartel to protect them in return for regular payments of grain. So nyah.

Sskeer sees the racketeering for what it is: racketeering! He gets so flibbin’ flabbin’ mad that he starts attacking the Hutts with his viney arm, having been overtaken by the Drengir again.

“I am attacked!” yells Myarga. “Blast them to atoms. Tear them limb from limb!”

This is the moment when Keeve realized that Sskeer was definitely no longer Sskeer anymore, for realies. Mercenaries exit the Hutt ship in droves, blasting their blasters with red blaster laser blaster fire.

As both Kriss and Keeve twirl their lightsabers daintily, Kriss reaches out to the Starlight Beacon for backup. She forgot quickly that the Beacon is being overtaken by Drengir, so, uh, take a backseat.

A Padawan named Imri gets impaled through the back by a vine, leading to a series of grimaces and groans. Vern, a green humanoid alien Padawan, is like “not today”. She uncorks her lightsaber and starts slashing like nobody’s business, tearing up vines left and right.

Star Wars: The High Republic (Vol. 1), Issue #5

Don’t die on me yet, Imri! There are so many busy panels like this one ahead of us!

Having established that, no, you can’t have any fucking backup, Kriss and Keeve return to their nimble lightsaber work while Ceret and Terec attempt to neutralize the big Hutt horsebeast. Now that they’ve reunited, they share a sloppy French kiss and a grope or two before schwinging their own lightsabers and continuing into the fray.

“The Hutt’s army won’t stop until their commander is free,” Kriss yells. “Sskeer, you have to release her!”

Sskeer is so far gone that he basically drools and burbles. Myarga is still wrapped up in vines, spitting and cursing. Keeve tries to get through to Sskeer, but the part of him that’s still there understands that he can’t control it. Keeve says “fuck this” and hacks the vines off at Sskeer’s shoulder, sending him into a tizzy of shrieking and crying.

This leaves Myarga free to instill his wrath upon ye who double-crossed him (which is everybody). Kriss sends the Hutt flying, imploring him to look at the bigger picture. There’s a force that is threatening both Republic and Hutt alike! Can’t you see it with your disgusting, wet eyeballs?

Sskeer talks in black speech balloons, scaring Keeve. Did she think severing the roots would stop him? Hardly! He fashions a blade out of his flopping viney tendrils and goes after Keeve, who continues to try to talk some sense into her Master. It is a foolhardy endeavor, to be sure. “You’re better than this!” she says wrongly.

Meanwhile, Kalo What’s-His-Face mumbles about the folly of working out a contract with the Hutts as he smuggles as much as he can into a sack. “Work for the Hutts, they said. You’ll become rich, they said. Well, there are easier ways of making money. Less dangerous ways of making money, for that matter.”

A group of local aliens stop Kalo at the doorway. Kalo stammers and declares that he’s arranging a shuttle for safe passage of anyone who wants to leave! Heh heh! Yes, yes!

Local Alien #41 calls Kalo a dirty, filthing, cunting liar. This is all Kalo’s fault in the first place, all these Hutts and underground monsters.

Star Wars: The High Republic (Vol. 1), Issue #5

Yeah, but look on the bright side! One less son to worry about!

The punching doesn’t last long, because the Hutt beast barrels through the wall of the building looking for fresh meat. Elsewhere, Keeve continues to try talking to Sskeer which has been an exercise in futility from the get-go. Now they’re fighting each other with lightsabers – Master vs. Apprentice. “Master, please. I know you can beat this. I believe in you.”

Sskeer snaps out of it momentarily to give Keeve a word or two of why he did all this in the first place. Keeve incorrectly guesses that Sskeer needed to find out what the Drengir had planned. It’s really because his connection to the Force is fading fast; he has a hard time sensing the dark side in anything anymore. A can of Spam flew under his radar, for example. He was ashamed to tell Keeve, but now that he’s backed into a corner here there’s no other choice but to spill all the beans.

Anyway, these Drengir are impossible to beat. Cut them down like weeds and they grow twice as fast. There is one last chance for survival, however… “but you’re not going to like it,” he tells her.

It’s probably related to butt plugs and hornets, unfortunately, but that’s the price to pay for freedom.

Speaking of talking sense, Kriss is still trying to get through to Myarga that they need to join forces to stop the bigger threat. She proves it by rerouting the Beacon’s Drengir-related distress calls to her comm link so that Myarga can hear about every planet being taken over… including, but not limited to, Nal Hutta! D’oh!

“The entire frontier is under attack by the Drengir – and neither of us can stop them on our own,” Kriss insists. Myarga is at an impasse here. The Hutts join forces with the Republic? That’s crazy nutso cuckoo. Myarga looks around helplessly as Kriss decides to leave the planet – their planet – for the Hutts to fix. Myarga doesn’t want Kriss to be hasty! Heh heh. “Warriors of the glorious Hutt cartel! Fight with the Jedi! With the Jedi!”

Brings a warm tear to your eye, don’t it?

Sskeer has an idea for Keeve: relay to the Drengir that any meat they touch gets spoiled, diseased. Exhibit A – Sskeer himself. A mind touch is what will do the trick. Consequences be damned! Just do it! Hand on the ol’ noggin. Let’s go, hup two.

Keeve grabs Sskeer’s head and he screams. “The harvest is rotten,” Keeve says into the Sskeer Intercom. “It will poison you all. You need to run. You want to run.”

Drengir suddenly fall back, much to Myarga and and Kriss’ surprise. “Unclean. Unclean,” the plants mutter. Myarga thinks these assholes are a bunch of cowards, and he ups the ante on fighting back.

Maru reports to Kriss that the Drengir on the Beacon seem to be retreating. Almost as if they’re afraid. No one knows why, but Kriss sees this as an opportunity to fuck off from Sedri Minor and never look back.

And poor Keeve, she is cradling a dying Sskeer in her arms. Spoiler alert if you looked at the cover. Oh well.

Final Thoughts

Trading one life for millions, this is a no-brainer. Throw Sskeer to the wolves if it means destroying those pesky Drengir. Why am I the only one who thought of this?

Stupid comic book writers. See you next time.

Batman (Vol. 1), Issue #609 – “Chapter 2: The Friend”

* Part 2 of 12 of the Hush storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Batman (Vol. 1), Issue #609 – “Chapter 2: The Friend”! In the previous installment, Batman saves a little kid being held hostage for ten million smackeroonies. But before the F.B.I. shows up to collect the ransom money back, Catwoman steals that shit and gives it to her client Poison Ivy.

Will this issue be similarly as short? Will the whole Hush story amount to 500 total words? If I wanted to be amazed by a story called “Hush” I’d watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Which I will, now that I think about it!


Batman (Vol. 1), Issue #609 [January, 2003]
Written by: Jeph Loeb
“Chapter 2: The Friend”

Batman (Vol. 1), Issue #609

Oracle (Barbara Gordon, which I only know because I’m playing some hella Batman: Arkham Asylum on the Xbox these days) is trying to contact Batman via the chip in his dumb ol’ brain, but he is unable to respond. We last left Batman about to get his ass completely obliterated by a bunch of street toughs carrying items like knives, crowbars, pipes, and Hello Kitty stuffed animals.

“You think he’s dead?” asks one guy.

“I saw him fall outta the sky,” says another. “Like one of them pigeons with a busted wing. I hear he ain’t even human.”

“What’dya mean ‘ain’t human’? He’s bleedin’!”

“How do ya know it’s human blood?”

Batman is totally splayed on the pavement dying of blunt force trauma-related injuries. One guy bends down to reach for the mask, but then green gas ekes out of little holes in Batman’s cowl. Chalk another one up for equipment that I didn’t know Batman had and will never have again. The guy reaching for the mask has been temporarily blinded, and this pisses off the rest of them. “That’s it. I’m gonna bust him up–”

He readies his pipe, but suddenly some fucking electric bolts shoot out of Batman’s tights and electrocutes the guy, I guess. Things are stupid so far, but they can’t be stupid forever, right? The third guy pulls out a gun. “Human or not, he dies now,” he says, pulling back the hammer. Batman is so paralyzed that he can’t even move his arms at all, let alone all willy-nilly.

But that’s ok, because Huntress appears on her motorcycle to kick jerks in the face with her big ol’ boot. “Step away while you still can,” she says, revving up her hogg. What ensues is four pages of grrrl power and ass kicking.

Batman (Vol. 2), Issue #609

I will make you eat your own pipe, Petty Criminal #5!

BRAK! TAK! TOK! HAMD! KRAK! BAX! FAP! DAP! FOK! SWAG! GAH! I’m not kidding about any of those, especially not “hamd”. But, eventually, Huntress makes short work of every asshole prowling around the discarded Batman. Meanwhile, Oracle has turned on the Batmobile’s autopilot and the thing literally drives itself to the scene to pick every up. Going against actual logical medical practices, Huntress hoists the broken and possibly dying Batman by his ears and throws him in the car like this: *fling*

The car peels out by itself and drives Backseat Batman back to his cozy mansion while Huntress is left in the lurch! “I’m sure when he can… he’ll want to thank you himself,” Oracle tells Huntress as the Batmobile drives off the nearest, highest cliff.

Later, Poison Ivy has a briefcase full of cash that she’s taking to her… ahem… business partner. It’s his/her half of the bounty that Catwoman stole. She’s just about to tell the unknown person that Batman might be a problem, but the lights come on and Poison Ivy stands there alone. All poisonous and ivy-like.

Bruce Wayne knows that he’s back in the Batcave. How he got there, he has no idea. But he can hear Alfred chastising him as he bandages up his completely banged-up body. Even Alfred, a man of jeniusness, cannot patch Bruce up with the skills he knows. First of all, Bruce has a fractured skull. Second of all, Bruce pooped his dumb pants and Alfred doesn’t get paid enough to handle that one. Oracle has contacted Dr. Kinsolving, who may be able to fish Batman’s broken back.

Bruce’s hand starts a-twitchin’. At first it seems involuntary, but locked-in Bruce Wayne is hella trying to communicate with Morse code. Alfred understands right away: Bruce taps out “Thomas Elliot”, to which Alfred literally says “Good show, sir.” I guess this will be a big breakthrough in curing Bruce’s haggard condition!

The papers the next morning display the big, fat headline “PLAYBOY WAYNE IN NEAR-FATAL WRECK”. Oracle had “Wet” Dick Grayson crash the Porsche, making it look like Bruce had a blood alcohol level of 1.4. The talking heads are all over this shit, speculating on Bruce’s condition and whether or not THOMAS ELLIOT, FAMED SURGEON will fly in from Ghana or Papua New Guinea to operate on the man.

“In a fog of anesthesia, I remember one particular Halloween,” Bruce ruminates silently. “My father had promised to take me trick-or-treating and, as usual, was held up in the hospital.” Surgeons wonder where Dr. Thomas Elliot is while they fail completely at operating on the man. “My mother, always well-meaning, suggested I call a classmate and go out with one of them instead. Angry, I told her I had no friends at school.”

Dr. Thomas Elliot makes a grand entrance by inappropriately busting open the operating room door. “Why does everyone look so serious? This is just brain surgery, folks. I’ll have us back out on the golf course before lunch.” This is sort of the levity that gets people killed, sir.

Batman (Vol. 2), Issue #609

Right. No piece of ass is that high of a price.

Bruce had lied to his mother about not having any friends. “There was always Tommy Elliot.”

There’s an artsy flashback of Bruce and Tommy playing a game that either looks like Risk or that other game with the motherfuckin’ — Stratego, that’s it. They’re all like “I’ve got you cornered” and “You’re dead” and “You haven’t killed me yet” and “I’m six moves ahead” and “I’ve got my general guarded” and “Let’s try kissing each other’s penises”. The Waynes watch their son and his friend play civilly. “It’s like they’re brothers,” says Martha, even though Thomas Wayne points out that brothers argue all the time. “Barring some sort of unforeseen disaster, I think our son has finally found a best friend.”

I love when people say “barring some unforeseen [noun]” because it always ends up happening! And in this case, I think Bruce Wayne’s going to die on the operating table of AIDS.

Or not. The operation was a boring success.

“I barely survived the fall,” Bruce thinks as an unknown enemy reads the next day’s paper. “WAYNE OUT OF DANGER” the headline blares. “Had it not been for Tommy. Had it not been for Huntress. Had it not been for Oracle. Had it not been – that someone cut the Batrope.

The unknown enemy slices Bruce’s picture out of the paper with a very sharp knife. “We make war… that we may live in peace,” he mutters insanely.

Final Thoughts

Things are getting good! And by that, I mean I’m still unimpressed! One of the best stories ever? Pah! I’ve seen better stories on Stargate SG-1, and that’s saying a lot!

Tom’s Top 5 Albums of 2025

What a shit year all around. My country is in the toilet. Depression kept me from writing as much as I wanted to. I tried a lot harder to listen to new music than I did in 2024, but new albums rarely stuck. I cobbled together four albums I liked well enough, plus one I loved, but it’s hard to say if these are true classics with lasting power. Let’s just say these are the 2025 albums I listened to most this year and leave it at that. Here’s to 2026, where new albums from Dry Cleaning, A$AP Rocky, Poppy, Ratboys, Gogol Bordello, and Gojira might scratch the itch.

Until then, listen to this shit:


#5 – Stereolab – Instant Holograms on Metal Film

This album is pretty good. Not stellar, but pretty good. Still though, it’s Stereolab’s first studio album in 15 years and I don’t want to be held accountable for excluding it from my list! And even though the woefully overplayed-by-Sirius-XM “Aerial Troubles” has been etched into my brain to the point where I’ll be sick of it for the rest of my life, it sure does sound like a Stereolab song! It’s like they picked up where they left off without missing a beat. In the end, isn’t that what we all want from our 35-year-old Anglo-French avant-pop bands?


#4 – Swans – Birthing

Whether or not you think Swans’ formula has been getting tired over the last 10 years, you’d at least have to admit that it’s been effective. It makes me wonder what direction they could possibly go from here, considering Birthing is reported to be their final “heavy sound” album. Will they return to the depressing folk rock of The Burning World? Perhaps the juvenile no wave noise rock of Greed? The goth rock of Children of God? Or maybe their start making K-Pop hits. In any case, I’m with them all the way.


#3 – Melvins – Thunderball

For my money, this is the best Melvins album in a few years. Everything is just so tight. You can that familiar chunky, sludgy riffage with areas of noisy experimentation and interesting musical ideas. You hear that section of “Victory of the Pyramids” where it sounds like Mike Dillard is slowly drumming on leaky water pipes? Awesome. With the last three tracks clocking in at an average of nine-and-a-half minutes, there’s plenty of room for songs to breath and evolve. King Buzzo is, like, 60 years old, man. He’s still got it.


#2 – Cardiacs – LSD

An album in the making since literally 1999, Cardiacs’ official sixth studio album can be treated as a bittersweet sendoff to the band. And Tim Smith in general, who suffered a stroke in 2008 and spent the next 12 years communicating compositions and lyrics with his family using his eyeballs and an alphabet board. Nevertheless, LSD exists and it sounds like everything you’ve been missing from the band in the last 25 years. At 80 minutes you can expect every musical idea ever thrown at the wall, with most of it sticking (and some not). However, it is an incredibly addictive listen, and since I love this band unconditionally it stands to reason that this gets the #2 spot on this list in spite of its flaws. Mazel tov!


#1 – Viagra Boys – Viagr Aboys

This is only 2025 album I truly loved. It got universal acclaim upon release and showed up on practically no year-end lists. Well guess what, fuckers. It shows up on my list: The Only List That Matters™. Whether you’re a man made of meat, or on the Internet looking at feet, Viagr Aboys delivers with its unique brand of eclectic punk and stupid sense of humor. I put “The Bog Body” on my top track of 2025. Who the fuck writes a song about a man accusing a woman of being jealous of a preserved body found buried under the ice? Swedish post-punk band Viagra Boys do, that’s who. Next time you’re depressed, give this album a listen. It won’t make you less depressed, but at least you’ll be hearing some kickass music.

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #8

* Part 2 of 6 of the Civil War II storyline *

Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #8! In the previous installment, Ms. Marvel has a run-in with Miles Morales’ Spider-Man at a science fair in New York City while saving an entire room from the after-effects of Bruno’s exploded mini-nuclear reactor! Everyone died horribly, including anyone unfortunate enough to have read the issue.


Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #8 [August, 2016]
Written by: G. Willow Wilson

Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #8

Medusa and a kid named Ulysses are watching the news report on TV in New Attilan. Ulysses has premonitions, and something big, big, BIG is going to happen…

*trumpet fart*

For a nice little detour, we turn to Bombay in September of 1947. India has gained independence from Britain, and Pakistan has been partitioned in the northwest. Now there’s Muslim and Hindu violence, because religion is cool and good. “The largest human migration in history is underway.”

A man tries to light a fire under his father’s ass, who is the last holdout on leaving. “Don’t you remember what happened yesterday? When the mosque on the next street was burnt to the ground with the imam still inside, it’s time to leave,” says the son, Kareem. Kareem’s father doesn’t want to go to Pakistan. He’s an Indian. Indians and Pakistanis are like oil and a slightly different kind of oil.

Kareem’s wife, Aisha, doesn’t want her baby to grow up thousands of miles away from everything she has ever known. She wants to stay too, but Kareem says “NO!” and slaps her across the face with a fish.

Suddenly, they all see a shooting star as if it were a sign from Allah himself that things are gonna be a-ok! The family sets off on donkey and carriage.

“From the moment she was conceived, I’ve always felt this baby comes from somewhere else, somewhere safe, beyond the falling stars. And now I have a sign.”

Aisha had sold all her jewelry and hid the money inside her wedding bangles. If Kareem gets killed or if he falls in a hole or something, she and the baby will have enough money to continue their lives alone in Karachi. I WONDER IF THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS!

*opening credits*

*Full House theme song*

*Danny Tanner*

In the present day, which could either be the year 2016 or the year 4501 depending on when you’re reading this, Ms. Marvel finds herself on a space station in low Earth orbit! She snaps on some bangles that may or may not be wedding bangles and goggles at the station. She’s going to visit Captain Marvel! Like, wow!

 Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #8

No more losing lottery tickets!

Pleasantries are exchanged, yada yada yada. Brass tacks time. Captain Marvel asks the young Ms. if she knows who Ulysses is. The young Inhuman that Medusa found. He’s not really magical with clairvoyance and fortune-telling, he’s more like a mathematician who can calculate the likelihood of future events to within a fraction of a percent. So, like, same thing, bruh. “He’s an opportunity. An opportunity for us to fight crime without violence. To stop tragedies before they happen. Imagine how life could change… how our lives could change.” Captain Marvel gets misty in the ol’ eyes.

But some people have concerns, even Avengers. Detaining people before they even commit crimes? Um, excuse me, but this is fucking America. But hey, Captain Marvel says it’s ok, so who is Ms. Marvel to complain? Some nerd from Jersey City, that’s who.

Captain Marvel asks her young ward for a favor. She shows Ms. Marvel a file on the computer of some freckle face named Becky St. Jude, who has put together a team of volunteers who are eager to put Ulysses’ power to good use. They’ll need supervision. A liaison between them and the actual important people, like the real Avengers. How would you like to play middle-man, kiddo?

Ms. Marvel is thrilled! “I will do what you ask,” she says, posing self-importantly. “With honor, commitment, courage, and all the other stuff.” Captain Marvel all but yawns.

Later that day, at Liberty State Park, Becky is there with a team of arrogant-looking whipper-snappers! Ms. Marvel, we would like you to meet Jonah, who studies criminal justice at Rutgers (boo), Heather, who studies information security systems (hiss), and Marco, who is lactose intolerant (yum).

Becky is excited to start working with a real life in-the-flesh superhero! First thing’s first: Jersey City. Like, oh my god! It’s going to be exciting to test this shit out in a city with an extremely high crime rate! Whoops, she didn’t mean it that way! She meant, she wants to make a difference in the city! LOL! Off to the right foot already with Ms. Marvel, that’s for sure.

 Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #8

Enjoy it while it lasts. You’re going to be dead weight in this team and soon you’ll be sadly jerkin’ it in your room while playing MMORPGs, effectively quitting the superhero game forever.

In only a few hours, Becky gets her first tip from Ulysses. Hijinx, the leader of the Canadian Ninja Syndicate, is going to drive a stolen tank through downtown Jersey City! Time to waterboard him before he even steps out of his house. “If we don’t stop him, in 17 minutes, the tank’s auto-destruct sequence will kick in, and it will explode.”

They wait in a dark alley for Hijinx to show his ugly, pockmarked face. And, lo’, a very Candian tank scoots along down the street. “Well, that was punctual!” Ms. Marvel smiles as she and the rest of the clan run after it.

Hijinx stops dead in his tracks, pops out of the tank, and starts throwing crystal ninja stars behind him. “Get off my tail you military-industrialist southern flunkies!”

Ms. Marvel becomes 50 feet tall and scary looking. She plucks Hijinx right out of his tank with her fingers, and the tank crashes into a building. She sets him down gingerly and asks if he’s ok. “What does it matter,” Hijinx sniffs. “My beautiful machine is scrap metal now.”

They tell the wretch that they’re detaining him until the dangers of the exploding tank have passed. Hijinx is like “HOW DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THE EXPLODING PART, HUUHUUHNGJUHUGHJUBUJ”. He’s not happy. This shit is bananas, and it ain’t fair. At least give him a chance to do a few murders before he gets turned into the cops, doggone it.

 Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #8

Pack it up, fellow do-gooders! Crime is now extinct! Let’s celebrate with a round of Lunchables!

Ms. Marvel and Co.’s crime-stopping spree is covered on the local news that night. Tyesha, Aamir’s wife, walks into the kitchen to find Kamala slumped over the table. “If they prosecute this Hijinx guy for something he might have done with that tank, we’ll have to redefine what we call crime,” Tyesha says, throwing her grimy two cents in. It’s like, shut up, please.

But no, she has a point. Where Tyesha grew up, cops would throw kids in jail for standing on the street funny. “You’re smarter than this, Kamala,” she says after Kamala tries to make her case. Well, thanks. Everyone feels great now. Go fuck a duck.

“But Tyesha – this new system – what if it saves lives?”

“Whose lives? Did you ever think that maybe the people committing the crimes need saving too?”

Tim Allen would hate this woman.

 Ms. Marvel (Vol. 4), Issue #8

You’re no match for my oversized handsome fists, puny Earthling!

Anyway, for the next few days it’s the same schtick: Ulysses tips them off, Ms. Marvel and her crew stop a crime that was never even committed. Even as something as pedantic as shoplifting gets met with atomic wedgies and trips to the electric chair.

While Ms. Marvel shakes down a potential criminal, Becky, Jonah, Heather, and Mr. Lactose Intolerance run up the street with haste! “Teenage male, blond, athletic – If we don’t get to the address Ulysses sent me within the next few minutes, Coles Academic High School is going to be vaporized,” Becky says matter-of-factly.

Ms. Marvel books it with the rest of them to 437 Nelson Place. She thinks the address sounds awfully familiar. “I can’t shake the feeling I’ve been here before. For a school thing? A party? A group project? I can’t place it, but… I have the weirdest feeling.”

Ms. Marvel knocks the front door down with an enormous foot, scaring the crap out of the homeowners. “Your son! Where’s his room?” she asks the quivering parents. There’s this nagging feeling like, fuck, it’s going to be someone she knows, isn’t it?

She busts open the bedroom door to find a high school jock sitting at his computer, completely surprised that some costumed girl stomped her way into–

“Josh?” she says.

Final Thoughts

Josh is a jock who is Zoe’s friend, right? I know Josh! And he’s going to vaporize the high school? Josh rules! Give Josh a trophy!