Seven

A short-ish post tonight. Mainly because I'm running out of things to post at the moment, and I'm seriously trying to avoid posting more things about Calabrese. (You're relieved, I'm sure.)

 This is yet, another with no real title, but has been affectionately titled 'Monster' after the Henry Rollins' song I was blasting my brain out with when I made him. Ive actually done a few of these....uh...pig/monkey winged things before. Joe says they might be Azazel 'talking' to me...

 This one, if you notice at the bottom, isn't even really done. But I thought it looked good as-is, so, here we are. It's....a snake guy. Or something.

 A cute little 'whatevs' picture. I thought this one sucked when I did it, but, he's kinda charming now, looking back at it.

"Pocket". A first-draft monster guy that Joe asked I do for his band. It was kinda cool making him. I wasn't given any real parameters regarding a 'what' when he asked, just that it be...well...something like this. Yes, I know he has 9 arms. That was intentional. The shading looks kinda funny though. And, yes, I did steal his name from the main protagonist from Christopher Moore's book, "Fool". I know they look nothing alike, shh. I had just finished it at the time, and I'm actually re-reading it now. Loves it.

And there you have it.

If anyone is feeling frisky, comment with any requests you might want to see. I'm not making any promises, but who knows. I might just tear up the pad one day.

Ok. Off to do more stuff. <3

Until then. 



Six.5

Not an actual post. But.....ah, eff it.

Is it bad, that when I saw this...

...I immediately did this...?

Yeah, thought so.

Need help. NAO.

<3

Six

Sorry about gushing over Calabrese in the last post, guys.Sometimes, a girl's gotta gab though, right?

Right.

So, as it is now, I'm not going to post any written work here for a bit. I'm going to try playing around with stuff, and seeing where I can go with it. And, if I still get flat-out rejected again, then I throw it up here for all of you to enjoy.

And you know what that means. More pictures!

 Another one without an official title, but a nickname. "Meathook", for obvious reasons. This was actually a 'whatevs' picture I did during the Calabrese music marathon I had. A 'whatevs' picture is one that I draw on the back of another picture. Usually, these are simple, or downright silly. Sometimes, they turn out kinda neat though. Case #1.

 ...And the colorized version! When Joe asked me what colors I thought things should be, I suggested the skin be a light grey-ish shade, and the hair blue. So, he went with a green/gunmetal combo. Heh...

 "The Face in the Mirror" On the same page as "Banshee" for the same reason as before. This is actually the second or third hooded guy I've drawn, and they all look kinda close to one another. Maybe I'm channeling He-man or something.

 The color version! Again, we have the mysterious, yet, serendipitous odd shading that went on with "Acid Trip". I think my cell has picture preferences.

"Mermaid" She's a few years old, but other than the tips of her fin and some other minor things, I like the way she came out. No, she's not sitting on a potato sack. Is it my fault I can't draw a believable rock? Oddly enough, after I did this, I later did a story called 'Neptune'. There's a scene I describe in there that's a bit like this. Only now did I make that connection, by the way. Strange...

Well, there you have it.

My contribution to the web. Pencil smudges. Hah.

Oh, so, before I go, here's another funny thing Joe and I talked about.

Two days ago, I had another Calabrese dream.

Now, before you roll your eyes, hear me out.

I told Joe about it. I kinda didn't want to at first, because it involved me & Davey cuddling. And a horror/comedy version of "Fried Green Tomatoes". (Think "Attack of the Killer Tomatoes" x Veggietales. I know. Messed up.) He kinda laughed, and said, "Y'know....what if he's having these dreams too? Like, you're some random girl he dreams about all the time. Like a psychic connection er something."

And, that got me thinking. What if?

I could only imagine his reaction as I walk over to one of their merch tables.

"EEP. YOU. What...?"

"Uh....hi?"

"You....stay away. Get out of my dreams! Bleh!"

*runs away Muppet-style*

Ok, ok, that's kind of lame. But, the possibilities are funny though, right? I mean, really. If you started dreaming about a random person and then poof! there he or she was, gawking at tee shirts 2 feet away....what would you do?

I'd Muppet run.

F'reals.

Until then.



Five

Ok, so, I've decided.

I know I was trying to make this as strict as I could as far as content was concerned, but, a little personal tidbit here and there surely cant hurt, right? Surely, this cant come back to bite me in the ass somehow. (Because, surely, nobody other than one random hacker reads this....right?)

So, here's my dirty little secret for the day.

I.....am obsessed with Calabrese.

No, no, not the broccoli. Not the salami. The band.

Yep, a band. Like how all the girls used to be in high school. But worse. So much worse. Because I'm at home. All the time. Alone. With the Internet. And we all know that nothing from this cocktail could be good for anyone.

How did this happen, you may ask?
Well, it's Joe's fault. No, really.

A few months ago, he uploaded my iPod with their 3 albums. I remember hearing them a few times in the car from before, and thinking it was kinda catchy. Little did I know it would spell my eventual, audible doom.

Now, I am one of those strange people who takes a while to listen to anything. I'll download buy a CD, but not actually open it for a while. And when I do, I listen to it in chunks. So, Tracks 1-5 here, 6&7 a few days later....you get the idea. Even if it's a band I know wont let me down, the process is slow. Like I said, it's strange, but it's my thing.

Enter Calabrese's "The Call Us Death".

Why that one? I dunno. Probably because alphabetically it was closest to what I was listening to last. ("Thank You, My Twilight" by the Pillows, I think.)

First track. Cool.
Second track. Awesome.
Third track. Spiffaroo.
Fourth track....dear lord, is everything so catchy?
Fifth track. Sixth track. Seventh track. Scream at me again.
Eighth track. Ninth. Tenth. I'm in a whoa coma. And I like it.
Eleventh. Twelfth. That's it? Surely that's not right. A half hour went by? Really? But....I....I....

I hit play again. And again.
I'm amazed at how much I'm liking it. How much I'm listening to it. How much it's sucking me in.

The next day I jump on "13 Halloweens". The day after, "The Traveling Vampire Show". All three make their rounds in my head, every day. My brain is all too happy to submit to their new master. Oh, glorious dictators....<3

I start to get giddy. And I find myself reverting back to how I was years ago. Years of carefully crafted adult maturity flushed down the drain in a matter of days.

And thank Goddess too. I was quickly becoming an old boring bitch at the ripe age of 28.

Then I find out they're all over the social media market.
And I pour over the Blogs. And oogle the Tumblr. And stare into the webisodes. And read every Tweet, interview, and snippet of written text that any 3 of them have ever said. Somehow, I feel like I just found 3 new BFFs. But I keep this to myself, lest I seem like one of the crazies.

In all this, I realize that I have no idea what any of them actually look like. Hard to believe, I know. But the pics didn't show up 90% of the time on my cell. Did I mention I have an Android phone? And a Kindle Fire? Yeah. There's that too.

So I look.
And I probably shouldn't have.
I really shouldn't have.

I'll save myself the embarrassment and just say that half of my downloaded pictures are of them now. (More Davey and Jimmy, less Bobby. Sorry Bobby....you're too pretty. ^o^)

Then the dreams start. 6 within the past month.
Each one of them seems to play a certain roll every time too. Bobby and I are always chums. Davey is...ah...well, the object of affection. Jimmy, unfortunately, is usually a 'background' guy. How this order got set up, I have no idea. But anytime It's a Cala-dream, that's the way it is. And, just to give you an example of how my brain works, I wrote one of them down.

3/16/12

I was working in a restaurant when it began. My 'uniform' resembled a maids uniform slightly, and was yellowish in colour, much like the glow and decor of the room. My co-worker had told me that some celebrities were coming for dinner. Imagine my surprise when I saw who it was.

There were others there too, but, nobody I could definitively pick out. An actor, an older gentleman. And although my coworker and I were supposed to wait on the table equally, I only cared about the right half. The menus were already at the table, and I think I must of waited only 10 seconds or so to get their drink order. I guess you could say I was excited.

Before I had a chance to go anywhere, there was a rumbling that stemmed from the fire place set in the back center wall. And wouldn't you know it? Pirates had come to ruin dinner.

All hell broke loose then. Plates smashed, chairs were knocked over and broken, and blood was coating any and everything. Seizing my moment, I grabbed one of the villains from behind and tore his head clean off. Bobby decided then was the time to vamp-out, and proceeded to rip a hole in my new-found head still in my hands and eat the contents therein.

"Hey...you didn't eat that well enough! There's still some left!" I found myself saying.

So he went back for seconds.

I dropped the head and let it roll to places unknown when he was done. The room had cleared out mostly at that point anyway. Stupid pirates.

I turn to my right, and Davey is standing in front of me. Somehow, he looks grateful. For what, I don't know. And that's when he bent down to kiss me.

I could feel the slight stubble on his chin and mouth as he did, gently, more than a peck, but falling short of a French kiss.

My cheeks flushed, I could feel it. My heart skipped a beat or two as well.

And then.....I woke up.

Yeah, I know. Vampires don't eat brains. But, it's a dream, dude. Deal.

Anyway...that's my secret.
Not horrific like you expected? It could of been. I edit myself very well, thanks.

Since I was gone for a week-ish, I'ma post some piccies too. You don't mind, I'm sure.

Enjoy?

 Did this one years ago. I think it was one of the first I did that started the shift from 'pretty' drawings into 'morbid-ish'. Joe likes to nickname this one 'Angel Rape', even though that's not what I thought I did at the time. But, looking at it now, he's got a point.

This one is kinda cool, just because I took the time to put a pattern on something. Usually my stuff is kinda on the simple side. I blame Ken Sugimori and Pokemon for that, honestly. I always thought of this one as an Asian Medusa of sorts. Though, obviously, not as cool as say, a real one.

One of my latest 'installments'. Some sort of deamon guy performing surgery on himself. Lots of blood. Slightly masochistic, even. Awesome.

Well, I think that's it for now.

Fingers crossed nobody actually reads this. Heh. <3

Until then.

Four

So, the last 24 hours haven't been too nice to me.

Apparently onion tempura and dieting don't mix. I figured I'd eat something a little naughty, considering the only thing I had that day was oatmeal, and my crummy tummy decided that was too naughty. And there I was at 4 am, awake, in pain, and wishing I was dead. In my defense, I only had enough to fit a small salad plate. Considering my history with grease in general though, my dumb ass should of known better.

That being said, I'm still not quite right, so this wont be an extensive post.

I have more pictures though. Enjoy?

 Hah! Yes! Me as a Pokemon Trainer. <3 In my head, I had an actual fanfiction to go along with this, and I thought it might be kinda cool to have a visual. The giant Clefable's name was Aria, and much like Team Rocket's Meowth, she could speak. For some reason though, I had envisioned her to sound kind of like Anthy from Revolutionary Girl Utena with a UK accent. How I would of tied that in, and made it sound not completely crappy, well, I never thought it that far out. Oh, but my team would of been 6 of the most bad-assed Eevees ever fictionalized. Evolution, baby.

 This is something I did for one of Joe's bands. I basically copied a cheap styrofoam tombstone with all this lovely stuff around it. The idea was that the band photo was gonna go in the middle, but no matter how many times a pic was taken, the quality was too poor to do much with. Not to mention, the weird smudges around the top made it look kinda dirty. Ah, well...

"Acid Trip" part 2! Joe took it upon himself to take my drawings and use them as his personal coloring book. Which is cool, because he somehow got a Misfits-y vibe to the pallet scheme. I had thought of her looking like Rini from Sailor Moon when I drew this years ago, but the blond/green works too. For those wondering, this was done exclusively on a laptop without a mouse or pen, in Irfanview and MS Paint.

There you have it.

A lot of anime references. Yes, I am a bit of a nerd, thank you.

And I'm always up for a Pokemon trade. <3

Until then.

Three

I'm getting tres original with these titles, I know.

First, before I put anything out here, I want to share this little tidbit with the rest of the world. Not so much as news, but more of a crazy little happenstance.

Two weeks ago, I sent Joe to get milk at Wawa. (For those not on the East coast, just pretend I said Kwik-E-Mart.) I notice he's taking an unusually long time coming back. 10 minutes. 20 minutes. I call. I text. No response.

Almost an hour later, he walks in.

"I know you've been trying to get a hold of me, and it's a good thing you're sitting down..."

Oh no. He was robbed. He lost the bank card. We owe the Mafia. All 3 even.

"Well....um....what happened?"

"It's Thomas."

I sigh with relief. A co-worker the both of us had the pleasure of knowing for a few years. But why did he seem so serious about it? Maybe he was in the hospital. The guy did have a lot of medical problems...

"Oh. Well, what about Thomas?"

"He's in jail..."

I pause. I think of any little nuanced thing he could be in jail for. Parking tickets. Back taxes. What could really be worth locking him up for?

"...for manslaughter."

My mouth hangs open.

"Thomas?! No freaking way!"

"That's what I said at first. I just got off the phone with Herbie though. He told me."

"Well.....how.....?"

"Egan told him. Egan was the first one to find out about it. He looked it up, then put it through the Tower Reunion Facebook, and the news got around pretty quick."

I took me a while to register what he had said. This guy that we had both known....this guy, who, my father had known and worked with as well...was in jail. For manslaughter. The guy who didn't really cuss...the guy who never even got into a tiff with a customer over even the most irritating thing...the guy who had told us his hair had moods...the guy who had the perpetual booger hanging out of his right nostril...

In jail. Manslaughter.
And as more news hit us, the charges got worse.

This is the story, should you be interested:
http://abclocal.go.com/wpvi/story?section=news/local&id=8582676

So...

Now for the original intent of this post. Seems like kind of an odd shift, I know.

Do enjoy, though. The quality isn't too great, but that's only because I took pictures of them with my cell on my kitchen table. Yes, they are sketches. No, they are not inked. I tried cropping them to my best ability, but some still have some junk in them. Oh well.

 Yes, feel free to make 'Little Shop of Horrors' references. It's intentional.

 "Acid Trip". I did this a while ago, but I think it's still pretty neat. How many other cute anime girls have their faces melted off in such a delightful manner?

 "Banshee" She's on the same page I did with another one I did when I was feeling occult-y.

 I affectionately call this one 'Head Lance', though, I never gave it an official title. It's actually my favorite to date.

This one also does not actually have a title, though, I did come up with this and two others while having my own merry little Calabrese music marathon. And, if you can read that fuzz, you can even see which song I was abusing at the moment. <3



These were the first round cherry picked from my book o'stuff. I have a few more I uploaded into my laptop, but I'll post them later. I might try to even color one of these if I'm feeling spunky.

Until then.

Two

Hello, again. <3

More ocular pleasure for you tonight. This one was actually rejected by Weird Tales not too long ago. (Not because it sucked, but because it wasn't what they were looking for.)

Enjoy? ;-)

Shock Treatment

"I had a dream about the Ramones last night. We were hanging out at their hotel, talking about Def Leppard, playing Street Fighter. Dee Dee got up to get drinks and Joey kept losing. Somewhere in the corner was Ringo Starr, in an Elton John-esque dark red velvet suit, laughing. Later, all of us got up and toured the hotel. It was huge, and gold-gilded in an antiquated sort of way that could only be found in those....Victorian? age digs. There was a ball going on in the lower level. People dressed up in stuffy clothes and fancy masks, that kind of thing. Slash was there in the middle, uncorking champagne and spraying anyone who came by. Nobody seemed to notice except us though. All of us got in the mix, partying, having a good time. And for some reason, the only thing that kept coming back to me was, how many times do you have to lose to Chun-Li to realize Cammy can't compete?"

"That's nice, Mr. Hackett. And then what?"

"Then....I woke up. Here. Looking into your smiling face, Sue."

She smiled. Bending at the waist, she leaned over to adjust the various pillows and other soft things that made the wicker deck chair he was in seem sinfully decadent. To his right, sat a weather worn side table, higher than usual, with a coupling of tattered books and pens. There was an empty drink glass too, with condensation sliding lazily down, pooling at its base. Great palms rustled in the soft, warm air, casting shadows on the white sandy beach beneath his toes. And above, the sun overhead was hinting at slight pinks and oranges just beyond the horizon.

"How's George?" he asked, suddenly sitting up a little higher.

"George...will be here soon. Then you can ask yourself."

"Always did think it was a strange name for such a beautiful girl. Makes you wonder what they might of named 'er if she was a boy. Maybe....Sophia. Or maybe something neutral, like Chris or Renee...."

"Now, Mr. Hackett. Remember what we told you."

"I know, I know. Polynesians are wonderful though, aren't they?" he said, grinning.

The sun slipped across the sky, sinking slowly into the darkening cerulean crystal just beyond its reach. He stared at his hands, both relaxed on either side of the chair, with an explorers watch on either wrist. He couldn't remember how he got them, or why they were there. Moreover, he couldn't remember where he was exactly. All he did know, was that he was in a good place. And that good places rarely needed to be questioned.

"Hey, Sue...." he said, rolling his head over to the empty glass, "...d'ya think you could refill that for me?"

"So soon? Wouldn't you like to wait a while?"

"No..." he said, tasting his lips, the tang of ocean just barely noticeable, "...I think I'd like another now, please. I feel kind of thirsty."

"Very well, Mr. Hackett. You wait right there, then, okay?"

"Wouldn't dream of it otherwise."

Moments later, when only half of the sky was visible, a pair of hands took his. He didn't have to look to know who was next to him. He felt the smooth nails and slightly calloused tips and something like the smell of sweet coffee and cinnamon pepper the air, warming his heart instantly.

"Hello, George. You're here, finally. I've been waiting."

"So Ms. Sue tells me. How are you today, Mr. Hackett?"

"A lot better, now that you're here. Where'ya been?"

"Oh, you know. Here and there."

"Tyler treating you well? Because, you know, if he don't, I can--"

"Yes, hes treating me well, don't worry. You're very sweet to think of me, though."

"A wonderful girl needs protection these days..." he said, feeling the first pangs of sleep float by, "...will Sue be back with that drink soon? It's almost dark out."

George forced half a smile and patted his hand again. "Don't worry Mr. Hackett, Sue will be here in a moment. She just has to get her supplies. Anything I can get you though?"

"A shoulder rub....would be nice. If its not too much..." he said, closing his eyes at the idea.

He could feel those same familiar hands come gently down on the area just below his neck, small, strong circles making his arms go limp with every pass, his legs cementing themselves to the sand, immobilized. If he had a thought in his head in that moment, it never survived.

In the distance, he could hear the ocean kissing the shore, the gentle pulsing of water on sand acting as a natural lullaby to sailors who had long lost the salt of their years. He felt his breathing slow, and his pulse hammer gently on, tipping his conscious to bed.

Soon, the darkness crept up and chilled him, and the potpouri of the island seemed to fade into something more clinical. His eyelids, leadened with the sandman's dust, refused to open. Weakly, he tried to move, without much success.

"Mr. Hackett, is something wrong?"

"Sue...? Its dark and cold. I cant seem to get up. Or open my eyes. Where's George? Whats going on...?"

"I'm right here, Mr. Hackett. Just try to relax, okay? Ms. Sue is going to help you. Just like last time, remember?"

Suddenly, he felt a pinch on his temples, and three cold spots on his forehead. Confused, he tried to move again, nothing responding to what his brain was ordering. The smell of coffee and cinnamon was gone. The lull of the waves was gone. The warm sand between his toes was gone. And he was cold. Very cold. His head was wet. He could hear a motor, purring, quietly, the small hairs on his body standing up. A peal of thunder, and....

"Good morning, Mr. Hackett. How are you?"

Dawn. He was in his wicker deck chair, feet in the sand, the serene glow of the pre-morning sun painting the skies in heavenly shades of blue. A coupling of tattered books sat next to him, on a higher than usual side table next to a few pens and a glass filled to the brim with something sweet and bright. He looked down at his hands and saw a two explorers watches, not really knowing how they got there. Nor did her know where he was. All he did know was that he was in a good place. And good places rarely needed to be questioned.

"Good morning, Sue. I had a dream about the Ramones last night."

"That's nice, Mr. Hackett."

Good? Cool.

More next time. I'm going to try to get some pictures out here. Let's hope my cell wont argue with me too much.

Until next time.