sweet jesus

I've been busy working on a comic, partially as a response to all of the anti-blogger stuff I've seen in the mainstream media and partially because cartooning is such a great walk-up to painting. I was getting out my fine-line markers because I was feeling too lazy to get my drafting pens dirty and saw something that I'd almost forgotten I had:

So, I was on a mission to retrieve my cell phone and drop some books off for Rachel, which meant navigating the maze which is that part of town.  I managed, though that’s not what I want to write about.

For Better

“Where’s Uncle Butcher?”

“He’s at a wedding.”

“Whose?”

“Remember the girl with the puppy we visited.  Her.”

“Who’s she getting married with?”

For Worse

Courtesy of Say Uncle, we learn that some yahoo at Yahoo thinks Aerosmith is a heavy metal band.

Okay, I told Kathy I’d go home and mull this over and yet I’m having trouble, so I’m going to work it out here.

Things I Love About The House

(In no particular order)

The yard is amazing and yet not so large that I feel like I couldn’t handle it.

The front porch is solid.

I’m pointing you to Newscoma again because she’s telling you how it is in rural America with the price of gas.

It’s scary, folks.

Another angry white woman, sweet jesus, we are everywhere. .

Yesterday, Mack used this delicious phrase–”uppity elitist”–when describing Obama and I wish I’d thought of it, because it seems to me to capture exactly how the Right is trying to portray him.

Oh, holy sweet Jesus, I am about to have to fall over.  I just got an email alerting me to this site–Cats in Slacks–in which this artist has a bunch of prints of Cats in Slacks.

My phone still takes pictures, but refuses–as a part of its long disintegration into ruin–to send them.  So, I took this picture with the Butcher’s phone, and holy Sweet Jesus, does his phone take [bleep]ty, [bleep]ty pictures.

Check this out.  These are six of the ten medium squares (I have seven and a half done).