Saturday, March 24, 2007

Cash Money.


Cash rules everthing around me. Cream get the money.


I had to throw some D's on dat bitch.
Thinking about doing a fourth book. Uranus, The Real Dirty South.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Pieshish 2.


Work in progress.
Sup' Qualo.
It's the Movement...
...on Mars.
Hello Pink Nasty.
BTK Blues...
...on Saturn.

Friday, February 09, 2007

Meanwhile, on Saturn...

The Fifth Son of Galactopus sends his herald to grill the universe.
This is me jumping off a cliff.
For I am done.
And this is only the beginning.
Yezzir. Ye Ye Yezzir.


Work in progress. Click on the image to view the full pic.
Look out Neptunes, here comes Uranus.

Meanwhile, on Saturn...

"The Lamentation of a Young Herald Towards the Second Son of Galactopus"


"Step aside young herald. I must appease my hunger. It is the will of the cosmos that I devour worlds blessed with abundant life. Do not forsake me for I was born with this nature. I'm no different from any other creature.


"I beg you, spare these worlds for they are innocent and young. The universe is vast and infinite. Give me more time and I will find you worlds that are less deserving of the terrible fate you are about to unleash upon the three before you."


Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Meanwhile, on Saturn...


My god, she's being surrounded by bug-eyed monobytes.

The universe is doomed!


"Dude, you could see the wires."

"What a gyp."
It's all about the cheap F/X on Saturn. The moon is made up of cheese after all.

Friday, January 19, 2007

The Ghost Sword of Mars.


A work in progress.

Although most of my time is being spent on the Saturn book, I will always go back to Mars.

Friday, January 12, 2007

Meanwhile, on Saturn...

Where do dead links go?


Crazy things come up when you're delirious with the flu.


When you have those weird dreams, don't they make as much sense as SPAM? And speaking of SPAM, there's a strange, surrealist beauty to their nonsene, no?

Below is an example:

...There will never be the girl made that will not scorn you. never more shout the call of battle or wash their feet in the streams the sun had gone down, a little wisp of a new moon was following it I cannae tell, said I. I think not. If I was only sure.
all this shame loundered on my head? How could you dare it, David among soldier-men to their big dinners; and still I had the same here, and your father having word from it, and yon officer that stayed the same kind of high good nature. Indeed, he had an outside air of
sick of her and you. What kind of a damned trade is this to be a The biggest kind, Alan, said I, and I think Ill take it to my grave and set the mill to the turning. There was something of spring in the hours were gone he had raised a small loan of me; before thirty, he had
She shook her head at me with that same smile I could have struck her for me to breathe deep; it seemed there was not air enough about Leyden of the valley. But if you had only some of this language, you would The door was opened so quickly, even before I had the word out, that I
to be a little distant - My little friend, now you are mine wrong side this day. Not that I mean he was afraid, of course, I his wants: he made her drink first out of his glass, he surrounded her


David Lynch could have written that.

Friday, January 05, 2007

Meanwhile, on Saturn...


The Guitar Hero of the future breaks his cosmic strings while doing a cover of 'I Am Trying To Break Your Heart,' by Wilco.
And the Five-String Messiah wonders - would Ziggy Stardust dig Yankee Hotel Foxtrot on Mars?
"...disposable Dixie cup drinker,
I assassin down the avenue,
I'm hidin' out in the big city blinkin',
what was I thinkin' when I let go of you..."