blues.

I know I keep saying this and it keeps getting older and older as I say it, but Fight Club had the sexiest, best ending for a movie ever. I can't say it in simpler words, or for the people who like using pulchritudinous words, I can't please you there either. Because I have no new artwork and because of the fact that I am a bastard too lazy to look for my USB drive and upload some work onto the computer, I'm going to put up some ancient artifacts. And by ancient, I really mean last summer when I had absolutely no access to the internet and was stuck at home 98% of the time. I'm planning on turning a lot of these into T-shirts.

The thumbnails suck. You can see more recent (and older stuff) here.

bawkbawkbawk i still hate blogs.

So basically, aside from munching on gobstoppers, the cuppage pretty much summarizes the summer thus far. I still need to go and pick up my gigantic deformed bowl and a couple plates. It was fun.

To keep things disappointing, I did NOT take any photos of fireworks. I'm not a big fan of them. They all come out the same. I'm narrow minded when I want to be. In honor of you, i'll put up a generic looking and very boring cliched nature/landscape photo. Now children, it's time for you to 'ooh' and 'ahh'. Hell, even throw in an 'ooh-la-la' because i'm the only person I know who says that. I'm speaking out of my ass. Again.

Too many photos on hand. Its great how I'm never satisfied with one whole photograph or image and I like portions of it. This is better explained below. The result? A half-assed three in one attempt at being artsy, whatever the hell that may be. Huzzah. Go eat some challah bread.

I love robot chicken. Its good to me in bed.

I wish I was Milla Jovovich. Or Angelina Jolie. Or Christopher Reeve, OUT!