It keeps feeling like there's nothing worth writing about, and every day there are a hundred stories to tell, whether it's just the assholes with the car speakers so loud that they rattle the windows, or the methods I'm discovering for ink painting, or my new adventures in puppet making (I'm working on my first puppet, it's true). The steam to tell people the odd moments craps out, because it's just my life; we've all got one of those.
But there are these occasions where the clouds break, and the fun bits feel like fun bits that I should share. Perhaps it's an illness. A weakness of spirit.
Fuck it though, let's do the run-down:
After a bit of an emotional crash, I'm back to work on the Graphic Novel. It's really a fucking brilliant story, written by my brother-from-another-mother. Which leads into the fact that I've booked my trip to San Diego, for ComiCon, so I'll be trying to maintain my cool just north of Tijuana from July 25th-30th. It's so god-damned hot there at that time of year, I'll probably lose twenty pounds just from ball-sweat.
A new site has cropped up, and asked me to jump on with some contributions. It's new, and I've only passed along a couple of things thus far, but please go take a gander at Original Quote.
And for anyone who isn't already on the Food Is Not Love bandwagon, hop on now (you can subscribe with iTunes, through the site), and be certain to check out the next episode... and all of the episodes, because that shit beautiful as a whore's ass.
And somewhere in the midst of all the day-to day, I have had to, with great regret, drop a project I'd been picked up for. I was asked to work as the new artist for the Queen Of Trash comic, but after about two weeks of working out sketches I realized that I was not the guy for the job. I was not going to give her what she needed for the book, so I had to write one of those terribly difficult emails, telling her this. But, please, check her out. The Queen of Trash is absolutely wonderful, and you swine should all bow before her.
Finally, on the topic of regret, I found out that tickets for The Tragically Hip show at The Fillmore had sold out before I got a ticket. I posted messages on groups, asking if anyone had an extra ticket or two, but to no avail, so last monday night the Hip played the Fillmore, and I missed their one Bay Area show on the tour. This is the first time I've missed seeing a Hip show in 11 years. I am not amuzed.
Now, back to work. Ayize has gone out of town, and I must sit on his dog, which means that I have to pull my shit together, and get over to his place.
That is all. Stay evil, kids.
