Apparition

"This place is filthy. The grossest office I've had to work in since I had to do all those volunteer hours in dental school. I guess the community health center is an easier place to work off a DUI, than the county jail, but dear God! The smell from the mouths of some of these hobos smells like a septic tank accident. in a pet cemetery. in July. I was standing there heroically suppressing my gag reflex, when this . . Thing appeared. It was singing the saddest song I ever heard. Singing was probably the wrong word more like vibrating, sending out a pulse of melodic depression masking the deepest tragedies the human mind can fathom. I'm too afraid to ask what it wants"


Lately, I've been gripped with stomach churning awe that quickly becomes self-loathing when I read Pim and Francie by the reclusive weirdo/genius Al Columbia. He makes me feel like an insect trying to fly to the moon. Oh, well I bet I could beat him up.

A representative sample

A wholly negatively stereotyped sample of the inner monologue of some assorted humans in a warzone.



from l to r:

“I can’t believe how incredible this feels! Six months ago I was nothing and now look at what I’ve helped accomplish. What he made me accomplish.”

“To convince men to follow you, first convince them to admire you. Does that sound good or too pretentious? I have to get a bronze star for this. No way the brass can deny what I accomplished today. I need one of those MacArthuresque speeches to dazzle all the uniforms with the bright lights of my military brilliance. Maybe then I can get a promotion out of this shithole. Maybe some bullshit about “liberation” that always goes over . . “

“That fat bitch better back the fuck off. I ‘ll be goddamned if I’m gonna go back to blowing a staff sergeant to try and get private quarters”

“What a stone-cold motherfucker! He didn’t even wait for the order from CENTCOM, he just blew the whole town straight to hell. He even let us pick off the stragglers with the anti aircraft guns. There was nothing left but red mist. This is the best day of my life.”

“This is a complete mess, but if it works it was worth it. It’s time for those people to step and take some responsibility for rebuilding this country. We did our job.”

“ . .ICECREM . . “

Opening Shot

You Must Make Friends With Fear, . . . Fear and Moral Terror

"A teenage girl wandered up to me and demanded, 'SMELL ME!'. I hesitantly sniffed and replied 'You smell like cigarettes'. 'Great!' she exclaimed. 'I've been figured out'.
She huffed away ready to perpetuate her angst on the next unsuspecting victim. I lied. She smelled not only like cigarettes, but possessed the underlying acrid, musty smell of a food service worker that lacks the self awareness to engage in the hygiene the social contract demands."

Filthy

It wants to snuggle. With you.

Doused in Gas, Stuffed in a Hole

Large Man: "Son, you got ta get busy livin' or get busy dyin'! I ain't about to tolerate this in-between bullshit!"

Unrepentant slacker

Yeeaaah. . . So I haven't put anything on this for a long time because I have been slaving on a drawing that has taken waaaay too much time.I've also been spending an inordinate amount of time planning the colors and drawing the transparencies for a silkscreen of that drawing. so in the meantime enjoy this drawing of a fat guy I saw at a comic convention. I sorta turned him into a rockabilly guy, in reality he was a weird egg-shaped man with a a permanently puckered face that was perennially beet red.