Prints. I might start selling prints. If anyone wants them.
Probably not like. But they’re there.
I can do anything from my flickr.
Dog carcass in alley this morning, tire tread on burst stomach. This city is afraid of me. I have seen its true face. The streets are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown. The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout “Save us!”… and I’ll look down and whisper “No.” They had a choice, all of them. They could have followed in the footsteps of good men like my father or President Truman. Decent men who believed in a day’s work for a day’s pay. Instead they followed the droppings of lechers and communists and didn’t realize that the trail led over a precipice until it was too late. Don’t tell me they didn’t have a choice. Now the whole world stands on the brink, staring down into bloodly Hell, all those liberals and intellectuals and smooth-talkers… and all of a sudden nobody can think of anything to say.
A collection of literature, artwork and photography from different creative minds.
I did that cover. And I have four old pieces of work in there.
(Thanks to Edwin for the photo)
I make music sometimes? It’s quite good.
I realised how much of an ego show this blog actually was. But seeing as I don’t really do anything else in my life apart from draw, edit, vectorise, compose, master and cut. You’ll have to deal with it bitches.
I’ll upload new bits tomorrow. Might buy a canvas or something. Who knows.
Right, I’m high, need sleep. Bye for now.