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Historically Accurate

I love history, but more specifically, American history, but more specifically, American presidential history. So, I drew up a couple of my favorites.

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It’s been a while since I’ve played guitar, but I think I pumped out something pretty decent. Adding drums is always the hardest thing for me, but they’re also the element that can make stupid guitar riffs instantly sound awesome. I managed to get something that sounded fairly cohesive, I think. Enjoy! Or don’t enjoy! It’s a free country!

[audio http://dl.dropbox.com/u/15520538/new%20song.mp3]
*wink!

Just gotta siiiing! Just gotta daaaance!

THIS freakish monstrosity was in the news: http://www.adventure-journal.com/2011/07/one-eyed-albino-shark-caught-in-baja-scientists-baffled/

A one eyed albino baby shark found inside of a bigger shark, ostensibly for breeding purposes. My friend commented that it would be like something I would draw, except biting a ship apart. He was only half right.

I left my window open to let some of the chilled Spring air in and fell asleep. Little did I know that in my unthinking act I had let into my room the roving hounds of terror: Mosquitoes. It has long been thought that the last escapee of Pandora’s mythical box had been a honeyed drop of hope to sooth the worry, the guilt, the fear that had leapt free. This is a lie I am afraid. It was not hope but the first mosquito mother full of it’s swarming mass of swamp-bred progeny, created to bring agony and pain to all of man kind.

These are the horrors that I willingly let fly into my room during sleep.

Their buzzing snapped me awake from the midst of a pleasant dream. The infernal buzzing, strafing my face like angry fighter planes, setting the battle ground of my body afire with their unnatural needs. That hellish buzzing, driving me to madness.

My attempts to murder them all with my bare hands were in vain. Thinking it best to allow them victory and the territory of my comfortable room, I retreated to the couch to sleep and think of how best to tackle this new menace. Fighting the urge to scratch the many welts left by their thrice damned thirst for blood, I fell into a fitful sleep. They would not let me be though. Somehow they had found me and again were slowly draining my will to live. Why God? Why had you created such foul things?

I imagine the good Lord painting on the beautiful canvas of earth a forest scene: Strong mountains, topped with mist and snow in the background. Closer, you can see the mighty trees reaching out to the heavens in their full pine glory. You can smell their foliage as they play shadow games with the sun’s loving rays. Closer still a fawn! Fresh of life and new with promise, she drinks innocently from a trickling stream. Wait… Something is wrong though, something off. You can hear them, their buzzing. Flying death, rife with diseases and pestilence. They ruin the scene, the moment, the world.

It was in my ruminations on the question of “why” that I fell upon an incredible thought. The solution to my problems. The ULTIMATE solution to mosquito menace. I left the couch and padded softly back to my room willing them to follow. Once in my room I turned the air conditioning as low as it would go. If the June winds could not finish these abominations, I would do it with science. Bundled warm and protected in my sheets, I waited. I was not disappointed.

Their black hearts pumping stolen blood could not beat while in the icy chamber of death I had created for them. Man has triumphed again over nature. Like the ancient monuments of old, like the towering sky scrapers in cities the world over, like the heavy cement dams controlling a river’s flow, so I have joined the ranks of immortality. I have paved my way into man’s struggle versus the elements over the wretched mass of their frozen corpses. Bwa ha ha ha ah! BWAHAHAHAHA!

Windy Girl

She must be some kind of a witch, or something.

A well dressed witch.

Really? A Hand?

I love drawing hands. I don’t know what it is, it just seems fun to me and I feel that I’m fairly proficient in it.

Using this drawing tablet is a different story though. It streamlines some doodling processes, and makes cleaner lines than I could ever do otherwise, but sometimes there is just something lost in translation. I’ll keep plugging away at it until I feel good about my hand prowess, though, so sorry for the boring doodles to come.

those are tears.

And if anyone knows more about hands, it's a duck.

Sassy Owl

Too... much... sass!

Oh no you di'int!

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