F.I.N.

Last day of notes in Linguistics:

I got a B+ for the semester.

Lower Than Whale Shit

and so it goes.

BALLS

Not just a clever title:

I love drawings like this. We were talking about culture and its five modifiers: folk, commercial, popular, mass, and convergrance. It’s only fitting that I drew most of the images on top of, on, and apart of eachother. I think its fitting because the idea of culture, to me, is best used when combining one [culture] with another. This page has: A reaper with a crappy hood that says “BALLS” on it, goldfish swimming out its mouth into a school of them, the Planters Peanut Guy saying, “I’m so happy I could shit”, a fishing lure with two attractor feathers coming off of it to make the eyes of what’s becoming a triceratops, little men beating their chests on top of the triceratops, and a man jumping onto said men beating their respective chests.

Dittos!

Yea, I draw on them shits, too.

Don’t Try

to read things because you think you should.

and don’t worry about being your own critic.

Nightmare In Elm Creek

You hear it first. Right here, right now.

Recently, I was generously approached to carry on an honoraray, timeless, revered torch. Wes Craven personally called me on the phone to ask me to do the next “Nightmare On Elm Street”. He left me a voicemail first, and I thought it was my friends fucking with me, but lo and behold it was really him.

I went home immediately, because I was out with my friends, breaking bottles behind Wawa. I told my mom to “chillax” when I wouldn’t come down to dinner, and by morning, had the story.

In the year of 2015, Global Warming has killed Hollywood due to everyone going green and quit driving to Wawa, let alone the movies. Some foolish janitor in hollywood, played by shitmydadsays guy ideally, throws out all the Freddy film canisters, oh no! A major flood rinses the films into a river, where some bum finds them and takes them out to use as pillows. He rubs them with his bum hands– because bums cherish everything like gold and sure enough, Freddy pops out like a genie, and slices him up– his parts slide off in different directions. Since no one in the real world has sex or does drugs anymore in an attempt to reduce their carbon foot prints and populations, Freddy charters new territory: THE RIVER.

Right there Wes told me to go screw, and that was that.

But I drew this movie poster in class anyway. You’ll notice that the fly on the water surface that the trout is rising for is actually attached to Freddy’s tongue.

One, two, Feddys coming for you.

Three, four, better lay on the floor.

Five, Six, stay under sticks.

Seven, eight, don’t eat not bait.

Getting Back To Whales

What a day. Firstly, I just want to say that I was really impressed by the guest entry from a couple weeks ago. My whale game has been shit lately. But on this day, I got mine. Harpoon skin rip whale rip?!

HAVE MERCY!

Then it gets creepy from there. We were talking about The Canterbury Tales (I recommend the Miller’s tale) and I made eye contact with the TA. This gives me the D.C. on the daily. I decided to draw two pictures of him. One impressionistic version: note the hair so perfectly carelessly mussed in front of his face, like he was just composing a symphony. And one abstract which may strangely be more realistic. I drew a “mini me” for the latter one.

And a mandala for good measure.

Jesus Christ

You know what scares the hell out of me? This:

When I drew this

I thought of Donald Sutherland every step of the way.

MEGA POSTING WILL ENSUE

NOW

I drew this in Western Masterpieces, I think. I really don’t know the name of the class. Anyway, Instead of taking notes that day I treated my paper like a true canvas and filled the whole thing up. It’s obviously a ghost wearing a Winger shirt ( a la ), riding and harpooning an elephant shark in the sky, during a lightning storm.

The ghost is actually from a comic I never fully developed. Paneling is hard, what can I say? Anyway, The comic was about a ghost in the afterlife. Martin Luther King Jr., known in the strip as “MLK-J”, escorts the character around while god, depicted as a giant foot and voice bubbles pointed up, acts like a buffoon every few strips. One strip had Hitler terrorizing ant hills, another had the character stumble upon Kurt Cobain, playing a guitar. The ghost character annoys Cobain with questions until Cobain, who doesn’t say a word in the whole strip, put the guitar in his mouth and strums it– blowing his head off.

It would have been a hit. Another comic I started but never finished was called “Massive Aggressive”. It’s not appropriate.

By the way, sorry if it looks like I’m creeping in that picture, I still don’t have any other camera besides my computer one.

GUEST SPOT

Yoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyo sinternetters in the house! Todays post is a guest spot from the bowels of the internet. I figured that I couldn’t be the sole notebook defacer online so I conducted a search for others and found this bad boy:

I really like what’s going on here and I can totally empathize with the artist. I think more whales need to get organized and show the man who the real survivalists are. This reminds me of “In the Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the WhaleshipEssex”. I don’t read non-fiction very often, but this book knocked my socks off. I won’t give much away, but it’s about a whaling ship from Nantucket that gets attacked and sunk by a sperm whale in the Pacific. Cannibalism ensues. The history of Nantucket as a whaling community alone is worth the read, you know, if cannibalism isn’t your thing.

Drawing whales is really fun. The two best parts about drawing whales are the tail and the spout. The spout in particular because you can get crafty with what’s coming out of it and where it’s going. I prefer to draw my whales these days amidst the wreckage of ships, flipped over row boats and an ominous tail lofted just above a hand or gurgling head.

I like to cut up images into my grip tape like this one here:

However, once I made one of a whale and a squid fighting and it came out really well except for the head of the squid. It turned out so phallic that even my Mom had something to say about it, right in front of my girlfriend to boot. Skating it out in public was even tougher because all the other skaters kept calling me “piss wizard”. I don’t really understand why, but hey, the masses are asses, right?