Sexy sexy SCIENCE!

Got my new Precocious shirts in today! Conclusion: Mixed success! Neither came out as nicely was the Exceedingly Cute shirt, but the SCIENCE! one is quite acceptable. I'll have to create a new SCIENCE! design with non-white letters so I can attach it to different shirt types. The Unrestrained Creativity shirt, however, was lackluster. It didn't print very clean and, like with Zazzle, it printed too high on the shirt. I'm starting to think "center" means "top center" in those shirt makers. It makes no sense, as all horizontal designs would be screwed up, but there you go! Whatever. It is now banished from the store! Man, I hope you people like the Exceedingly Cute look...

I have other shirt ideas, but no time to work on them in the present. You know that long laundry list I've been talking about. Still there. Still scary. Tonight the goal is finishing comics and painting. Tomorrow it's writing. Thursday is probably finishing that writing because I procrastinated. Such is life.

You know, it looks like I have boobs in that photo. I assure you, I was just puffing the shirt out so the design would show. Really. I'm not that fat yet. Yet. *sob*

Oh, Bob...

So today in the Twitterverse, the lovely Danielle Corsetto of Girls with Slingshots showed off some of her Shepherd drawings. Once of which bore the unmistakable of ass of Bob, the walking blob that was Shepherd's standard drawing model. That frightening old man was the only one willing to work Shepherd cheap, I guess.

Ahh, the memories that flabby ass brought back! I wanted to share *my* Bob ass with Danielle, but unfortunately I could not find the Bob drawings I wanted in time. I tore the place apart, but the pad containing those "special" drawings was not to be found! On the way, I did find less-impressive Bob-drawings, like the one above, but the moment had passed.

I'll have to seduce you some other way, Danielle!

Nap time!

*yawn*

Sorry about missing yesterday's posting. I was... unconscious! I don't know what's gotten into me, but I am suffering from chronic nap attack as of late - and I never normally take naps! Actually I *can* make an educated guess as to what's happening to me. My sleep schedule is crap right now! I pulled a few super late nighters this week with the working on the comic buffer and just let my schedule shift and shift and shift...

So I apologize again for not having any sketchy goodness today, but I'm going to pack it in early tonight (in theory) and see if I can catch some consistent Z's! I promise to have something fun tomorrow! Maybe!

Old, familiar faces

I mentioned in my comments section that the main four kids had begun as humans, and someone asked what they looked like. Well, here you go! I did my best to recreate them as they looked then. I've long since lost the original sketches, sadly. (I think I made the right choice in final character designs.)

Way back in 1991, I started drawing a set of characters that would eventually become the Precocious cast. (Then it had a simplistic, obvious and stupid name: Brats.) The main character was a crude avatar of my 11-year-old self, and the rest of the cast was set up to give him something to do. Most important was his meek and bumbling sidekick, a spiky-haired kid named Jacob.

Next to be added was Tiffany, based upon a bespectacled blond named, uh, Tiffany. (I WAS 11, OK!) Within the next year, cartoon Tiff gained a loopy personality and moved away from her inspiration. (Same as how the character who would later be Bud - I've forgotten his original name - eventually stopped being an idealized portrait and became a unique personality.)

The next year, I expanded the cast again. As I had struck out with everyone in middle school, I decided to add a romantic interest for my character. Enter Autumn, a fiery redhead who immediately became more of an equal/rival than a girlfriend. Autumn worked so well, she replaced the other female lead, who has long since been forgotten. (The other character introduced with Autumn gave me pains in finalizing him design - so much that I scrapped him - but he would eventually become the basis for Roddy.)

After getting my group to a solid four, with a few others waiting in the wings, I quit. I was a crap cartoonist and no one seemed to care about the characters. (Well, the original Tiffany had some questions.) I moved my cartooning to INTENTIONALLY drawing my classmates, which also proved vastly unpopular. Maybe cartooning wasn't for me...

I am a jinx

You know, with my history of the universe screwing me over at every turn (see: my dying family and the wall of water between me and relaxation at home) I should never have done this.

Not only did today's Precocious feature Tiffany in a Capitals jersey celebrating, but I had to go and do THIS. A hockey game was starting, and I was looking at the goalies. Goalies like to paint threatening images on their masks. I thought, what is the most threatening Precocious character? Suzette, of course! So here is Tiff acting as goalie with a Suzette mask.

As I post, the Caps are down 3-1 at the end of the 1st period - and three of those goals were the "how could the goalie possibly miss that?" variety. The last one (which happened WHILE POSTING) was akin to the Caps goalie catching the puck and TOSSING IT IN HIS OWN DAMN NET. This was the guy who was UNBELIEVABLY GOOD before.

What have I DONE?

Things that go bump in the night.

No, grills that work in a similar fashion to George Foreman's famous cooker do not go bump in the night - as far as I know. I have a potentially interesting story to tell and this was the only sketch done tonight. George Foreman probably goes bump in the night, though. Maybe he's mad that I didn't choose to use his grill as my source, but rather a grill with the caption reading something like, "George Foreman's grill can't compete!"

As foretold, I am back to work on sketching new strips. Tonight's haul ended up being six strips sketched and ready for inking. Not bad for getting back to the grind. As always, I needed media distraction to get my brain to focus. Neko Case on iTunes is far too bewitching, leading the mind to wander into fantasy. Had to put in some basketball to kill the wandering mind, then some Wire DVDs to get me motivated on strip-making.

I finished two DVDs, which puts on disc two of season 5. I'm too close to the end! I can't wait one more day for the next back to DVDs to come in! I'm not going to be up and running until after the mail comes tomorrow! There's only one solution: Take my Netflix packages to the mailbox at 4am!

I suppose the trek is a bit creepy late at night. The driveway is long, the lighting is non-existent and wild creatures have been known to stroll through the neighborhood. Also, I was just watching a bunch of people get stalked and shot for about six hours. Still, the weather was pleasant the spirits were high!

That's when the horror movie began.

Like a good future-axe-holster, my mind started to wander to my grandparents. Dying sucks in its own right, but it's brutal on spouses. I really do worry that the surviving grandparent might just give up, as is common with long-married elderly couples. So I asked myself, "once my obligations are over, will I just give up on living?" Habitually, I did a pocket check for balance. No cell phone or keys, of course. I was defenseless!

I get out to the mailbox and turn around to send my Netflix packages on their way.

*bhuh* *bhuh* *bhuh*

The FUCK was that!? I turn aroumd and look out, trying to see the source of the sound - or at least trying to see if any notable blob is scrambing across the neighbor's yard in my direction.

*bhuh* *bhuh* *bhuh*

It sounds like it's coming from the treeline in the distance. It's not a very recognizable sound...

*bhuh* *bhuh* *bhuh*

Wait, I have it! It sounds exactly like the "axe murderer closing in on a victim" sound effect you hear in movies. I am totally not making any of this up. Some douchebag is SCORING my death with cliches!

*bhuh* *bhuh* *bhuh*

I listen to it for a few more repititions. Doesn't sound like it's getting closer. My guess is a heat pump trying to figure out what the hell it's doing at the always temperature-fuckly 4am. So I turn my back to the sound and walk down the driveway.

*bhuh* *bhuh* *bhuh*

Did it just get louder?

*bhuh* *bhuh* *bhuh*

Maybe not. I keep walking.

*bhuh* *bhuh* *bhuh*

Maybe that's a sound an old dog who smoked three packs a day would sound like...

*bhuh* *bhuh* *bhuh*

Man, no one is going to believe horror sound effects started playing for me!

*snap*

Oh, DAMMIT! There's the token "killer stepping on a twig so the victim turns around to die face-first" sound. I always hoped my life would end up making a good movie, but a Friday the 13th sequel? Man, even the film gods hate me.

*bhuh* *bhuh* *bhuh*

I am going to keep walking at a leisurely pace, partly due to pride and partly due to horror movie logical fallacy. Victims who pause, look around, get unnerved by sounds and finally start running like idiots ALWAYS get killed, therefore running away from suspicious sounds causes death!

*bhuh* *bhuh* *bhuh*

You know what, fuck dignity! I've reached the loving glow of the side light and, even if said killer was real, I had 'em in a sprint. I run through the gate, close it, run around to the back door, head inside, lock the door, turn on the lights and debate whether this is amusing enough to justify a post.

Well, who reads this but me and people brushing up on my recent history for their monthly visit with me? Only one person even remotely cares, so I'm doing it for me!

Space Invaders

So I'm back in Winchester, and already I've been charmed by its warm embrace.

As you might know, I have a real scumbag of a brother. He's stupid, talentless and a world-class leech. I won't go into listing everything wrong about him, as that would take many years, but I will point out that his current business plan is to form a company - since companies make money! What will this company do? Make money. Anything else? No.

See, he'll be my "manager" in regards to my art. I do the work. I prepare the material. I apply to galleries. I sell the art. He takes the money. HOW COULD THIS PLAN FAIL? How could I say no to that? My brother's current business plan is to steal from our mother as hard as he can and live the good life until she gets the credit card bill. His long-term goal is to steal from ME as hard as he can and live the good life until I get the credit card bill. Progress.

There is one clear rule while I am gone: DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE DO THAT! My room is my fortress of solitude. It is my studio. It is where I do everything, and violating this space is extremely prohibited. Oh, and it's not just a territorial thing. My brother simply cannot be trusted. He sucks at life.

If he was any other species, he'd have been kicked from the nest or killed by a predator a long time ago. As he his human, he gets second chances and coddling on a daily basis, which has only taught him that he will ALWAYS be bailed out no matter what sort of trouble he gets into. The result is that he never learned simple decency. He does not know how to close doors. He does not know how to properly store perishable food. He does not understand that taking things that are not his is wrong. (Nor does he understand that buying things with others people money does not make those things his.) He does not know how to properly clean anything, nor does he have a sense of what needs to be cleaned and when. He is covered in a layer a filth. He has no respect for other people. He believes the entire world belongs to him, so he fears nothing while taking everything.

So, yeah, I get home and he runs out to greet me like a dog. I give him a package containing toothpaste, tell him the package contains toothpaste and watch him beam like a child as he tears it open. "Hey, this is toothpaste!" He carries my clothes downstairs and runs of thinking he's done the world a favor. I assume he ran off because I was about to find out HE VIOLATED EVERYTHING. If I expressly forbid it, he did it. A lot. And with gusto. Don't sleep in my bed? Asshole not only slept in it, but he set up a buffet in it! His clothing was scattered around my bed. Food and drink was everywhere. Hell, just to ensure the violation cut deep, he left his spank magazine in play sight. Oh, and for those who know my brother well enough to know, you assumed correctly: He left the porn in the player as always. I broke it and stuck it upstairs, next to the phone charger I found sitting in peanut butter.

Alright, that's enough of my complaining. I'm home, I'm furious and I need to purge. I wish people as smart as livestock could be classified as livestock. It's to cruel to this family and the world to let that scumbag life. Alas, the law says it's a no-no, so we just to wait until he dies of his own stupidity. Ugh.

One positive thing is this is the perfect segue into the next batch of Precocious strips! As seen in the sketch, Roddy will be invading our kids' fortress of solitude and violating all kinds of space! Roddy is hardly the irritant that my brother is, nor are his violations egregious, inhuman and slimy. Still, a segue is a segue...

Who is this handsome devil?

Would you believe it's me? The "handsome" part probably threw you off. I forgive you. Sarcasm on the internet requires italics.

Granted, it also doesn't look that much like me yet. It's step one, so you take what you can get. Click on the "painting" label for this post to see how other paintings evolved from odd sketches. I might look like me yet! Stranger things have happened!

Then again, this canvass is cursed. So far it's been the place of an aborted Marilee painting and a failed Millie painting. (My eyes are, appropriately, resting on Millie's breasts.) Maybe third time's a charm? Eh, at this point I'll take what I can get. Besides, the only person I offend with failure this time is myself.

This is going to be a challenge. Not only will failure offend me, but I'm trying to paint a dude in a series that features only chicks. (Yeah, I'm putting myself on the "On Beauty" category. Fuck you for rolling your eyes!) There's a reason I only paint chicks. Not only are their infinitely hotter than dudes, but their delicate features are far easier to handle in my style. Think about the sexy standards for men: Words like "rugged" and "stubble" pop up. How the fuck can I do that in my deliberately flat and simplified style? Fortunately, my long, luxurious hippie hair gives me something fun with which to work. I CAN BE BISHONEN! I'm not sure it's a good thing, but it fits the series, I guess.

More nightmare fuel: The sketch layered over the original photo, to show I'm not *that* far off in the details department. ENJOY YOUR SLEEP TONIGHT!



Edit: This picture makes me look like a total butterface. That is so not cool!