See I’m not a monster, I’m just ahead of the curve.

It’s a schemer who put you where you are. You were a schemer. You had plans. Look where it got you. I just did what I do best-I took your plan and turned it on itself. Look what I have done to this city with a few drums of gas and a couple bullets. Nobody panics when the expected people get killed. Nobody panics when things go according to plan, even if the plans are horrifying. If I tell the press that tomorrow a gangbanger will get shot, or a truckload of soldiers will get blown up, nobody panics. But when I say one little old mayor will die, everyone loses their minds! Introduce a little anarchy, you upset the established order, and everything becomes chaos. I am an agent of chaos. And you know the thing about chaos, Harvey? It’s fair.

Seriously, it's not that hard

Click me!

one more day

In just 24 hours I will be in line for the first Indiana Jones movie in 19 years. I had a few minutes to kill before i left work, so I doodled this quick. I'm worried because I felt this way before Phantom menace and was certainly not as excited afterwards. I hope that doesn't happen again.

Let us hurry. There is nothing to fear here.

That's what scares me.

Shanks is a little blue

Did this quick pic for another blog to which I occasionally submit some stuff. You can check it out here sometime.

That'll do pig. That'll do.

Oh, all right. For your own sake, I'll be blunt. Why do the Bosses keep ducks? To eat them. So why do the Bosses keep a pig? The fact is that animals that don't seem to have a purpose really do have a purpose. The Bosses have to eat. It's probably the most noble purpose of all, when you come to think about it.
Pork, they call it. Or bacon. They only call them pigs when they're alive.

Start spreadin' the news

“A car is useless in New York, essential everywhere else. The same with good manners.”
- Mignon McLaughlin

I think someone should just take this city and just... just flush it down the fuckin' toilet.
I hate this place. This zoo. This prison. This reality, whatever you want to call it, I can't stand it any longer. It's the smell, if there is such a thing. I feel saturated by it. I can taste your stink and every time I do, I fear that I've somehow been infected by it.

who's this handsome devil?

I haven't updated this site for awhile. I had a spare minute to mess around in Sketchbook a little. I promise some tastier sausage is on the way. I've had some problems with the grinder recently, but it seems like everything is working again. New meat is on the way.