Antiseptic Plus Lots of Soap

Been straddling the picture/word fence for a while, but I am, for the time being, firmly planted on the illustration side of things.  And more more more drawing means my pencil-wedged middle finger side-callous is growing more callousy; means I can now officially tear through band-aid boxes and reams of paper faster than a preschooler.  Waterproof tough strips are best.  

Holiday Journals From Wisconsin

I have a sloppy Journal, and I prefer it that way.

I slept 2 hours on the plane and 2 hours in the condo that first day of traveling. I'm reading my nephew 3 of Kipling's Just So Stories, and killed a bajillion zombies with my brother. Good stuff. Same thing next year, please.

Smothered Mate

There's no denying that Kasparov is hardcore. Observing Fischer's win over Spassky in 92, he reported, "Bobby is playing OK, nothing more. Maybe his strength is 2600 or 2650. It wouldn't be close between us." By no means the ideal candidate to outchess our mechanized would-be masters.

My favorite Fischer is, of course, deranged bum Bobby with ragged beard and passport accessory.

Speed of Strife

Monks meet the corner store. My favorite part's the dude's purple suit.

Nintimdo

I can't believe some of this zaniness. Or this? What about old school? Sheesh.


Don't forget, it's a cereal now.