I decided to try and draw something so I could practice in case there’s ever an emergency where illustrations are needed.
This is what happened. Of course.
Curious?
Eric said, “Nice bunny” but I’m pretty sure it’s a cat.
It even has a questioning look on it’s face. I don’t know what it’s questioning, but I’d reckon it has something to do with why I couldn’t fit the top of it’s head in the frame. What, am I supposed to have all the answers?
It'll make you strong! Or die!
I do declare, today was Redbull Thursday.
What is Redbull Thursday you ask?
Thank you for asking so politely! I’ll tell you. Redbull Thursday is an arbitrary holiday instituted a few weeks ago by a handful of wayward coworkers and myself to aid in the illusion that we have something to look forward to every week. Each Thursday, one member of the group is responsible for buying all of the other members a single 12 oz. can of Redbull. We are then free to drink it at our leisure, though it is generally accepted that we should drink it before it gets to be too late, or else we’ll never get to sleep. It is the second in a short line of “special days” that I am personally involved with, the first being Pizza Thursday (can you guess what we do on Pizza Thursday?!).
It’s a curious thing, because I’ve recently become convinced that no one involved in Redbull Thursday actually enjoys Redbull Thursday. Some don’t like the crash they experience after the initial caffeine buzz, others report an increase in the frequency and intensity of suicidal urges*, and pretty much all of us don’t like the taste of Redbull. I do it because I desperately need inane things to look forward to during my work week, and because I like being part of a group! Like when people are all “why are you drinking a Redbull at 5:00 in the evening?”, I can be all “It’s Redbull Thursday and I have to do it to fit in!”
Today was even more exciting than usual, because I had my Redbull approximately as soon as I finished my pumpkin coffee from Dunkin Donuts. Boy, was I ever energized! I used my increased productivity to online shop for Christmas gifts, and my enhanced efficiency do it all at one store that only I really like to shop at. I don’t think I blinked for two whole hours! Then I got sleepy and realized that most of the awesome gifts I picked out were only awesome because they were really for me and not anyone else. I closed out of the browser and went back to work?
It’s hard keeping up with all of the fake holidays I am involved in.
*this statistic may or may not be completely fabricated.
If you need to clean your brain because of the previous post, I have just the thing. I hope we can all still be friends!
Two Pig-monkey, One Pig-Monkey.
GET IT?!?
No??
Well, it’s two pig-monkey one pig-monkey. Does everyone remember in July 2008 when this happened?
Buzzfeed: Piglet Born With Monkey Face
I mean, it’s awful to even think about laughing at this poor thing. It’s horribly disfigured, and I do feel terrible for it. But sometimes you need to laugh to keep from crying, right? So… I actually thought that it was the funniest thing I’d ever seen.
As soon as I could, I infected my friends with my knowledge of pig-monkey…I wanted to know how others felt about it’s existence. After discussing the matter throughout the day at work, this was the email exchange between my friend Ben friend and myself.
Drawing by Ben
Hopefully Ben will be able to forgive me for showing this to the world…
To which I responded:
Improvements made by me.
Hopefully I will eventually forgive myself for posting this.
Because it’s certainly not worse than this, which is what I created next: (to clarify, this was around the time that 2 girls 1 cup had been unleashed unto the world…if that clarifies anything at all, as this has little at all to do with 2 girls 1 cup.)
I can't believe I made this!
Enter 2 Pig-monkey, 1 Pig-monkey. Needless to say, this only intensified my obsession with pig-monkey. I even found this snippet of a real conversation we had, months later!
Me: i miss two pigmonkey one pigmonkey
Ben: yeah….
Me: i’m looking wistfully into the sky
wondering where he is right now….
You might be asking yourselves, what the hell just happened? It’s OK. You’ve had a long day, and there is little hope that you will ever understand what you just saw here. I barely do, and I was there.
I’ve noticed an increasingly popular trend in books being published about poo. Like, “How to Analyze Your Poo”, “Change Your Bowels, Change Your Life” or “I Can Poo And So Can You!”. Most feature adorable, brightly colored drawings of children/animals, because who buys a book full of medically accurate high-res photos of poop? Apparently we can learn a lot from the stuff: how healthy our diet is, whether or not we’re eating too much or too little of something, how ill/diseased we are, how stressed we are, and so on.
Personally, my poo is telling me to leave it alone. It needs some quiet time, and it would appreciate it if I would stop asking so many questions. Really, my poo is pretty solitary and mostly keeps to itself. It’s not into big crowds, it’s had a long day, and it’s exhausted. It wants to go home and fall asleep watching TV on the couch, not list the dietary changes that I need to make.
So, maybe my poo is something that I can handle without the help of a book, no matter how cute the drawings are. Maybe I just won’t eat like shit (ha! ha!), and things will come out ok. Because once you buy a book about poop, what do you do with it? Do you leave it in the bathroom like a reference book*? Do you bring it out for parties? Do you put it on your bookshelf between “Harry Potter” and “The Importance Of Being Earnest”? Can you imagine walking into a friends bathroom and finding a well-thumbed copy of “Your Poo and You”? Like, what exactly goes on in there? Yea, my poo and I can take if from here, thanks.
* OK, I’ll take two copies.
