Sunday, April 26, 1992

Wreath Picture Story (1992)



Today I drew this picture. And it offended Wreath. And she said something about it. It hurt my feelings, but I didn't show it, naturally. Oh, you know me, as transparent as a speedboat.

So I hid it pretty well, and then excused myself for the day and (it was time to go already) did a Clyde Blankenship. Yeah, I cursed Wreath all the way home. And it didn't make me feel better.

The only thing that made me feel better was 1) resigning myself to the fact that she has no taste 2) running to the marijuana, putting a pipeload in the pipe and smoking it down fiercely 3) perhaps knowing that I would eventually talk to you about it and it would be all better.

Here is the offending picture. It's a joke for crying out loud. And I mean CRYING. I don't know what possessed me to draw it. Satan? Perhaps... But some people appreciate my work, my art MY REALITY. MY WORLD. MY ... I... Wahhhhh!!! A-Haught...a-haugh....whaaaaa!!!! Haaaaaaa!!!

Hard to tell just what emotions were expressed there but it sure felt good. Primal. I think I am cured. Goodbye!


No comments:

Post a Comment

I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.