Archive for September, 2010

Forward Progress

I have something to admit, Reader. I started another blog. I know, I feel like I’ve betrayed you. First I give you a blog promising sexual references but delivering actually more poop jokes, then I start writing a WHOLE OTHER BLOG. And there’s no sex on this other blog, either. There’s a simple reason for that and it’s mainly because no one wants to make sex with me right now. But just because I’m temporarily knocked out of the dating game doesn’t mean you should be deprived of the ENTERTAINING AND SALACIOUS CONTENT that discerning, naughty readers like you deserve to expect!

And that’s why I started Forward Progress. Actually I didn’t start Forward Progress because I have no love life, but rather because the football season is starting, which conveniently distracts me from my lack of love life. And there’s not actually anything salacious on there… just some lame drawings. LAME DRAWINGS! You know what that means! It means I am continuing my DRAW ONE THING challenge on the new blog because it fits my desire to always make FORWARD PROGRESS in life.

And conveniently, FORWARD PROGRESS is also a term in football! See, already a DOUBLE ENTENDRE, sexy readers!

Oh and did I mention I’m secretly crazy about football? Click over there and read all about it!


Ostrich: Sands of Time

Just saw Prince of Persia: Sands of Time tonight and my favorite thing in the whole movie was the ostrich. My favorite thing WOULD have been Jake Gyllenhaal if he had taken his shirt off more (or AT ALL), but since he didn’t, the ostrich gets #1. The ostrich had its shirt off the ENTIRE TIME. It doesn’t have anti-shirtless pretentions rooted in its early indy cred and Donnie Darko. It doesn’t rely on dreamily batting the ridiculous lashes of its moony gorgeous eyes. Although it could. It COULD.

draw one thing

This is the challenge I decided to give myself today. Draw one thing every day. Doesn’t matter what. Good, bad, ugly, wall-eyed (my favorite drawings are wall-eyed), just draw it and post it here. The only rules are: spend at least 30 minutes on it and put finishing touches such as a background and drop shadows when appropriate (and I always think drop shadows are appropriate) so that it’s more than just a lazy scribble.¬†This way I hope I’ll get more dedicated to my art, get into a habit of creation rather than waiting on inspiration, and start to develop a cohesive style. So without further ado…

It is ON.

you look like a thumb

Don’t blame me, Hot Lunch. Blame Dave Barry. He’s the one who said white men can’t shave their heads without looking like giant thumbs. And yet you insist on proving this point every time you save money on a haircut by getting it buzzed at Q-Cuts. (I mean Q-Sluts, as you prefer to call it.)

“Watch me draw a goatee on this.” I held up my thumb to him tonight while he was trying to look up books in the library catalog. “It’ll be like you’re looking in a mirror.”

He didn’t appear to be listening, but his mouse hand was doing something odd and spastic. I think he was trying to flip me the bird without any children seeing.

I know he likes it. He’s just being coy. At least that’s what all the talk is saying down at Q-Sluts.

no thank you.

Facebook is all about the suggestions, recently it seems more than ever. Tag this face! Reconnect with this friend! REMEMBER THIS PHOTO MEMORY! I can’t look at relevant content without surrounding sidebars shouting advice at me. Eat Special K! You haven’t answered this message yet! Peanut Farming… Like?

Tonight my sidebar said “Mike Jones. Add as friend.” No reason why it would be a good idea, just a command. No friends in common, no profile picture. And the generic silhouette head… was the girl one. Mike Jones the girl I don’t know… my new bff? No thanks, Facebook, no thanks.

it’s a WordPress basket, so it’s respectable. and a little pretentious.

Writing has never been so easy. With the click of a few buttons, I have TRIPLED the size of my archive! Look, it looks like I’ve been blogging since FOREVER! No, don’t look. Those early posts are kind of lame. They’re really lame. They’re from my LiveJournal. Back when I was living with my parents. At age 30. Mostly I talked about my cats.

But since Vox is closing down this month, I thought I’d import anything I’ve ever written online in my various blogs so they’d all be in one place. Like cute little eggs in a basket.

There is someone of indeterminate age and gender (could be a boy, could be a woman) wandering around shouting “ETHAN! JEDEDIAH!” like a Deliverance recreation under my balcony¬†for the last quarter of an hour and I’d like it to stop. It’s a little early to break out the ear silicone, but I will bust that shit out banjo-style if I have to.

why does this guy look so ashamed?

like he wasn’t the one who dressed himself this way? is he posing under duress? why is he personifying a cartoon hero in a blond wig without owning it? did he have second thoughts as soon as photographic evidence was introduced into the equation? and how does he have time to be both buff AND nerdy?

the internet, man. makes you wonder.