Now I understand why pog does not talk about its family much
Hi want some ice?
I’m proud of you
Abuelita is my favorite grandma-flavored drink mix.
Harlot Ben Franklin is another good one.
Well I’m glad somebody‘s paying attention.
World’s poutiest man sums up our collective populist angst.
Deih deih d’dee that’s all folks!
Another paintish from a photograph whose origin I neglected to properly record despite taking the time to scan it.
I didn’t like this as much as my job with the bird, though I didn’t make a second attempt either. I think it should be far darker, but the issue has been raised that strictly imitating the photograph isn’t always the ideal end goal. Yes, a goal would be a good thing to try sometime!
The subject is an unadorned rock wallaby. Indeed any observer can see that it is quite naked.
More water-color paint, this time with ink on it. The “paper” is hot-press cotton, which possibly sounds more exciting than it is. The work is still not great but I didn’t spend the last six months lowering everyone’s expectations for nothing (in fact I paid for the privilege). This object is approximately four by three-and-a-half inches large (approximate because it is slightly parallelogrammy), produced in an hour or so. Attempts to create things of similar quality at twice the size in proportional amounts of time have not been entirely successful. Howdy. Apparently I can’t draw lizardy things unless they’re malnourished and wearing hats.
Water-color paintings of an intense bird which starred in a series of photographs in an issue of National Geographic magazine from 1982 or thereabouts. The second was an improvement but the first attempt was more colorful, yet I can not justify displaying the same picture twice under peace-time circumstances. One of them has to GO (away).
I have forgotten what sort of birds these are. I only know that they are very judgmental and potentially seek vengeance.
This was my de-fac-to vague personal identification object at some shindig recently, as my previous assortment of them curiously eluded my grasp, possibly out of fear of sharing display space with this artifact.
I’d like to tell you that the curious red lump near its mouth was a result of my walking around with a painting in a sensitive medium on a series of moderately rainy days, so sure, let’s pretend that’s what it is.
Wednesday the 29: I have a headache
Monday the 27: In my previous life I was a piece of string.
Friday in the AM: It is potentially contrary to my own interests to give out cards with this url on them in a place congregated by some of the people who do the stuff I’m complaining about in it. However, I don’t actually expect anyone to read this. I certainly didn’t.
Wednesday in the AM: Part of the ceiling in my apartment just collapsed. So if I don’t update this thing this week, it’s because I’ve been crushed and ceiling-murdered and not because I’m attending some frivolous gathering in Pittsburgh.
Fur-affinity, I mention that a lot. It is a website that I post my silly drawings on. It is designed to provide a place for egotistical people with no imaginations to draw boring humans based on themselves who happen to have tails and animal heads standing around doing absolutely nothing. I already meet several criteria and they are generously working to bring me up to no standards. All the same I get more attention there than other parts of the internet. My comfort level with it varies; I feel less welcome than I did a year ago (writing stuff like this probably doesn’t help), but I’m not thumbing my nose at it entirely like I was four years ago. Once non-affiners learn about it, they can make a fuss over the website’s explicit content. I don’t like it either but in all honesty I’ve been having the unprompted, unwelcome sexual fetishism of other folks shoved at me my entire life. Ads for doritos, ads for telephones, ads for terrible movies, ads for cars mostly in ads. It is a classic unquestioned fact that this is a prime selling point of a fair quantity of products that are largely unrelated to naked dealings. Doritos in fact seem like they ought to have the opposite effect. Doritos ought to repel all potential company.
Including Reggie Wedgie, but only because this would violate his exclusive contract with Generico McDollarstorito brand.
I hate “cute” words for underpants. Under-panting of this sort only exists to restrain the perspiration and any accompanying negativeness of the traditionally least ventilated place on a clothed person, and covering it with such a small object only makes it less ventilated. The reason it does not get ventilated is because that is in addition the part excrement[s] (also incredibly not cute) come out of and few people take the time to thoroughly scrub down everything that touched it after it’s left. They scrape paper against it! It’s horrible. Why draw attention to it with garish colors?
This is also the only section of a humanoid in which three or more large independent units converge, and the friction heat generated by standard bipedal locomotion cannot be understated when one equips winter layers. One essentially cooks one’s own pelvic intersection by walking. I find nothing enticing about the thought of the thing we use to contain this. Imagine if you found a discarded cow intestine that had been rotting in a desert for a day. And then imagine you put it in a bag and carried it around with you. Why would you do that? And why do you call the bag “Finkledy?”
On a more easily arguable note, I hate the use of pluralization to refer to what is obviously a single object. An underwear triangle is not a “those” or a “these.” It is a that.
The furry junk, I’m allowed to screen out the inarguable pornography (so long as the uploader has properly tagged it), but I can’t do anything about the incorrigible bonanza of nearly naked triangle-clad beasts doing absolutely nothing. Triangles are jerks.
This is not a nearly naked triangle-clad beast, but it’s almost worse and will likely lead to that anyhow.
Even if I had conventionally normal inclinations where physical contact with other beings was concerned this would bother me. Wouldn’t it? Perhaps I am wrong. Maybe I’m in denial about all this.
Facebook seems to be trying to tell me that I am sex.
Sex: ALL OF IT
Prior to such a revelation I’d have been surprised to find this outside my apartment.
*(don’t type that in the comments here. It will get eaten and porn doesn’t taste good)
And yet it is not enough. I must have more power!
More and more power!
ABCDEast and west, going on a POWER QUEST
I must exceed the incredible power of Norton and Sandy Duncan!
Feed me power food!
Feed me ULTRA power food!
You FOOL! Give that to me!
At last! Aw haw haw ha hwah uh!
What are you getting at, fiend? How dare you appear before me in such a powerful pose!
No!!! Natural human reproductive inclinations! My one weakness!
If only… I had not acted in such haste…
I’ve run out of ideas. I don’t know what to do about it,
I decree that as per the terms of my trying to have this website sorted better that a meandering editorial like this need not be directly attached to the thing that it relates to. I did not intend for it to meander, but I ought to have noticed that it did so. And lo, I did! So there, lo. I don’t need you judging me all the time, lo. That’s really low. Ha uh.
Four years ago I would never have dared make such a picture as that, much less display it publicly. How do you feel, internet, to have allowed such an atrocity to occur? Yes, yes, I realize that’s what you DO, internet, and therefore you feel just fine if you noticed at all; my question was rhetorical!
A few persons commented –not necessarily complained, but I interpreted it as such because I am a whimpering weasel of a human being– about the creature’s conspicuous lack of trousers, and indeed even before such comments existed I was hesitant to display the image here for that reason. I didn’t put up the one I linked to within that link either, but now it is relevant and thus I must. As much as I appreciate illogical character design, that one aspect is hard to justify, as I’ve probably mentioned many times before this because I’ve always thought it very strange, not in a way that is inherently funny, and I am somewhat miffed at myself for proliferating it. I do not do this out of pointless adherence to convention, I merely came to find it a pleasing aesthetic in the past series of years for some completely baffling reason. Perhaps this was the tradeoff for no longer preferring a computer operating system environment that looked like this
I think I remarked about such remarks before, but I don’t recall where, I felt bad about it, and in any event this is not an attempt to excuse such a peculiar anti-dress code (Or it sort of is, now that I’ve seen the end and my two subsequent uses of the word. I was hoping it wasn’t that but it is).
And It’s my own fault for showing that midway image to begin with. My own self-consciousness about the issue drew attention to it that it would not otherwise have gotten, or gotten stated. As I said I think this is strange too. I agree with you!
While I can cannot recall a great quantity of images that the dumb beast ever wore respectable thigh insulation in, the lack only becomes conspicuous when the fool elects to wear a shirt and other accessories. It is like Eve and Adam of Adam and Eve suddenly being ashamed that they are naked, except this thing isn’t ashamed and we wonder why it isn’t.
The famous doughnut picture is one such image, and yet it seems not so blatant here. And why? The demi-dressed deinonychus itself is less prominent, but also it has not adapted an iconic commercial dress code to match this odd preference. Unless we consider
this guy. I’m guessing that we don’t.
And that’s far from an excuse!
Essentially, stuff to distract viewers from the shank-shield shedder’s lack of pants without actually giving it pants. That is still its dumbest style choice but no longer the only dumb style choice. And you might ask “why not just give it pants then? Wouldn’t that be easier?” Yes, it probably would. Please don’t ask that.
Certainly nobody would accuse this of being respectable, after uh.
However, the creature’s legs amuse me. They are so blatant. Almost like its stupid nose. It cannot be helped. They must be seen. Yet anytime I see a reasonably proportioned, cartoon humanoid animal wearing partial pants I can only think of
or worse. Even without elbow pads and a skateboard it’s going to remind me of Chuck E. Cheese and the Kool Aid Man (incidentally the name of the detective drama I pitched to CBS) circa 1995 and honestly I don’t have the time to put that much obnoxious photoshop blendy colors on everything. Thus the solution would be to have the atrociously attired agathaumas wear a skirt or similar noncommittal leg adornment.
But nobody yet has suggested that, so until someone does I shall ponder my excuse
and I shall hope that it is not inexcusable.
or Solicitor General calls for efficient delivery of justice. There’s one site where I upload these pictures, where all my titles are pulled from vaguely relevant news headlines, because I didn’t want anybody to be able to type the normal titles of my pictures and find out I used that site. Three seconds later I realized nobody is stupid enough and I’m not important enough to make anybody stupid enough to actually try that, but my compulsion usually outlives my rationality. To my great dismay LAPD Apologizes for Bogus Alert About Terrorists Buying UPS Uniforms on eBay was over the title length limit by a considerable amount, even when I eliminated the word “bogus,” first because I’m just not gnarly and tubular enough to use such vernacular and also the alert is probably valid in this situation.
Eh so two people expressed a willingness to see this lamentable lump of imagined existence again and at least one of them meant it so now everybody has to suffer. The time now is to make a decision. It is too late to change your address.
This was supposed to go under the last entry. Whoopth. I probably forgot it because it is absolutely unimportant.
Maybe dopes are like metroids, in that they have several stages and each takes more missiles to destroy than the previous. I wouldn’t say they are like pokemon because I always imagined a dope pokemon would go something like this
I wish I hadn’t.
I mentioned this briefly before, but more bears mentioning, if we can bear it being mentioned. Mustid dope bran costs more money to produce than most cereals because the dope’s contract requires that both its ears be fully represented on the box and all promotional imagery. But why does the dope GET a contract? What position is IT in to be making DEMANDS? How did it SIGN its name on the contract? Does a person have power of attorney for IT? What IS its name? Is it truly content with people just calling it “the dope?”
Uhhghghghg… mustid dope bran. That has to be dumbest cereal on the market. It HAS to be. It is required by law. And it is also in the dope’s contract. It’s even dumber than raisin brain, and that’s saying something. Specifically, it’s saying that dope bran is dumber than raisin brain. Raisin brain… what a dumb cereal! I lament that I have not brought it to your attention prior to now yet also it surprises me that word of Raisin Brain has not come to you through another source.
Raisin brain is the cereal that makes you incapable of thinking of anything except raisins when you eat it. You cannot act, since you cannot think about moving. Only raisins. It is surely one of the dope’s favorites. The dope is not legally entitled to enjoy things.
Yet we must not relax our vigilance for but a moment. Mustid is on the march, and our great warriors seem strangely preoccupied with other matters.
Ayato drew a dope once (I do not advise this). He has additionally drawn many great things which were not dopes. Lovely backgrounds, also! Not like this. I’m not sure where this is supposed to be. I initially was thinking of some space shippy sort of environment like Ayato often produces but it wanted to look more like a Romanesque era church that was converted into a shopping mall and then into an Amiga game.
Ayato. He openly admits that his name is Brandon so I may do better to say that, but it’s too close to my own name which I’m not at all fond of, even less when someone misspells it, and if I get confused and momentarily think that I misspelled it myself then I will feel very silly.
The orange creature is an upright walking wolfish being with the appropriate name of Lupine and the grey creature is a space alien called Scott. Although I suppose they’re both space aliens because I’ve never seen either of them around here. With that in mind I don’t know what Scott is at all. They are supposed to appear in a comic strip which has itself not appeared because it is better planned than mine. I don’t have time to plan things because it takes me a month to make one page when I am unencumbered by other obligations. I’m pretty sure Ayato made
this sequence in a few hours, just on a whim. I couldn’t even draw the car. I couldn’t conceive of the frame where the hand grabs the gear shift thing because I cannot DRIVE a car. Not two years ago, anyhow. I shouldn’t have looked at that. Now I just want to eat horrible things and sulk, and I already did that today. Not efficient.
My drawing was supposed to be quick and thoughtless, because I don’t have time to do substantial things these days. Unfortunately, I spent that time on it anyway and so the thoughtlessness became glaringly apparent, but perhaps that is appropriate given the presence of the blue unmentionable in the lower left. The dope is so dumb that I typed “right” instead of “left” the first time. How dare it make me do that? It is drawn to and in places where thought does not occur. Ayato remarked “somehow I think Scott and dopes would get along all too well.” I don’t know what dopes are anymore than what Scott is so perhaps they are both dopes. One just happens to be better drawn than the other. Don’t need no pair-a-dopes.