Drawing is fun

18 05 2011

Ahhhhh! Home sweet home!

Do you like to draw?  I did.  Until was about 10 or 11.  I think that’s about when my drawing skills peaked…pretty much at stick figures.

Specifically, stick figure army men.   Even more specifically, stick figure army men shooting other stick figure army men with the occasional aircraft flying overhead on bombing runs. Explosions (I was also pretty good at drawing fire and smoke).  Stick figure body parts flying everywhere.  That’s about the extent of my drawing repertoire.  My teacher said I lacked vision.  I said there are no bad students, only bad teachers.  She told me to go to the principal’s office.

My stick figure creations, once critically acclaimed in 4th grade, had, by the 6th grade, become the subject of near universal derision. Weighed down by the harsh public scrutiny, I relinquished my dreams of becoming the next Picasso.

Sidenote:  Thankfully, I was able to achieve my other dream:  Becoming a middling corporate attorney in a world overpopulated with attorneys.   Sweet.

Nevertheless, starting this blog has gotten my creative juices flowing again.  I’ve decided to take another crack at it.  I bought an electronic pen tablet with which to create new masterpieces and then upload them here for all to enjoy.  To tide you over until Amazon delivers me the goods, below is one of my creations from my early years.  (Thanks, mom, for keeping my beautiful works of art.  You said they would be valuable one day.  Thanks for believing in me when nobody else did.  So very valuable indeed.)

It’s eerily similar to subsequent Oliver Stone productions.  Coincidence?  I think not.  Mr. Stone, you will be hearing from my lawyers.


Read the rest of this entry »


Poop is never not funny

12 05 2011

My girlfriend is a doctor.  She deals in the bodily functions of others on a daily basis.  I know what you’re thinking.  How fucking awesome is that?  Right?

Read the rest of this entry »

In the beginning, there was Disneyland…

29 04 2011

Take a moment to soak in the extreme awesomeness of Underoos...

According to my mom, as a toddler, I was an exceptionally slow learner when it came to proper defecation technique.  But fortunately for me, my childhood recollections only extend back so far.  Thus, I am spared the psychic trauma stemming from countless potty training missions gone awry and the accompanying tragic loss of soiled Underoos (yes, I rocked Underoos as a child, that is, until I pooped them).  No, instead, my earliest memory of personal embarrassment takes me back to when I was around five years of age, shortly after my first trip to Disneyland.

Read the rest of this entry »