Blogging!

So, this sketch is, among other things, me trying to figure out how to draw myself in my "cartoon"

""""""style""""""

lots of quotations marks.

The guy on the left is how I was drawing "myself" or the character Slim Pickens because I'm bad at drawing hair.

But more importantly, I didn't think I'd be able to draw longer hair without looking feminine because there aren't a whole lot of other details to indicate something more nuanced like...gender.

I have to leave plenty of room for MASSIVE EYEBALLS! It's a thing, okay? Don't...don't question it.

Also the heavy lines under the eyes aren't supposed to be eyeliner. They're like...weariness lines.

But I think I successfully pulled off the comb-over  thing I do out of habit to keep my hair out of my eyes.. I'll take looking like I have a comb-over over being mistaken for a girl. I can live with that compromise.

Anyway, that's basically what I look like.

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I want to try to make a comic thing in the next few days about a time I was waiting for the bus.

In fact, I realized that I have spent so much time waiting for the bus in my college career, that I might be able to start a series called WAITING FOR THE BUS.

Yes, How to Avoid Stank Mouth is dead. I had other ideas I was going to use about a stank-mouth sensing computer, and whitening, and tongue-scraping, and lasez beams. But that was all scrapped when I saw the chance for VAGUELY AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL STORY-TELLINGS!

I don't know why I'm writing all this down. I just want to feel like I've done something.

If you've gotten this far in my self-indulgence I'll reward you with a story.

One time when I was young my dad and I were driving around the JMU campus and it was a warm day and there were a lot of pretty college girls walking around and my dad looked over at me and said jokingly, "This is how we test if you're gay."

And I didn't really know what he meant at the time, so I just laughed nervously, nodded a little, got really quiet and stopped looking out the window...
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If being gay was like being an apple pie, I'd be like a pie with just the crust. You'd go to take a slice of the pie but then the crust collapses to reveal an empty pie tin. And you're like, "Huh. From across the room I could've sworn that was an apple pie." And then the crust is like, "I know! I thought I was an apple pie too! But it's just not in me. You'd think...and I don't blame you for it...but no!"

It's a crazy crazy world.