Today I wrote a not-so-nice eulogy for the deceased Mr. Falwell, but was compelled to delete it because writing bad things about recently dead people is like tonguing your grandma. It's just kind of wrong. It's like puking all over your karmic destiny. Don't get me wrong, this kind of behavior can be exhilarating and deliciously menthol-flavored, but wrong nonetheless. Next week's blog: how much I looooooooove my grandma.
In mess-related news: I moved out of my studio! It took a lot of time, lifting, whining, sweating, peeing, gargling, kneeing, noshing, grating, yodeling, twisting, twatting, frothing, freeing, phatting, googling, hollering, vasecting, historecting, filing, fidgeting, booing, diddling, bedding, washing, dicking, kicking, licking, burglaring, knocking, moshing, queefing, locking, lubing, rolling, skating, creeping and (sigh) cleaning.
Here are a coupla drawings for you.
P.S. Becca is making me a website so, soon I will have no need to dispose of my visual refuse here anymore.