phosfate

I'm feeling perfectly foul and panic-attacky, so here's everyone's favorite LJ cliché photo post, the book and video shelves! Yayayayay! *Kermit flail*

Apologies for the yellowing and blurriness. ( cut to spare your flists and connections )

sandfordpolice is currently running a Tony Fisher/Spider-Man art challenge. So I made, like, a comic an' junk:



Click for bigger. Ink on some bristol board manga paper I got on clearance.

Collage, marker. May cause seizures.

Click for more biggering.
Ink, that cheap-ass Blitz comic strip paper.

Barfy all weekend. Alternated between sleep, videos, and emergency trips to the grocery store.* I moved into my old bed for the duration. While small, it is pleasantly brick-hard and has a whole new set of bears to annoy.

Friday I watched Night of the Living Dead for the first time ever. Even hideously colorized and with a Mike Nelson commentary, it had one of those oh-just-kill-yourself-already endings, like the original version of The Vanishing. And just as the original version of The Vanishing left one with a stern reminder to stay out of European service stations**, Night of the Living Dead was a reminder, as if one was needed, that there is nothing, nothing in the world scarier than a bunch of het-up white boys with guns and meathooks.

Saturday watched a few hours of Prince of E--no. No. The one that isn't a cartoon. The Ten Commandments. I like the way that, when the Jews start to misbehave, the old people and tiny goose-girls disappear, and they all turn into hot babes. This would explain why Aaron's ugly-ass cow held any appeal. I didn't know Hathor was such a party goddess.

I wanted to celebrate the resurrection of Our Lord by going to Grindhouse, but it just wasn't happening. If I'm gonna puke at a movie, I want it to be a tribute to the filmmakers' art, and not a danger to the public as a whole. Maybe next week.





*Includes, at various times, 10 minutes in the fabric shop for peach thread, 20 minutes in B&N for a paper and a Creative Screenwriting, and Taco Bell drive-through for a giant Diet Pepsi. You know, emergency stuff.

**I've only been in one, long before The Vanishing was even thought of, and came out with a can of Fanta and a truly wretched B-D adaptation of The New Avengers in French. So as warnings go, pretty valid.

In a blinding flash of light...

( Click for the rest of our exciting story! )

Very little to post, since you really don't want to hear my fascinating stories of shoveling the driveway. There was a thing last week with a frozen car battery and hypothermia, but I'd rather just forget about it until the Phillips 66 bill comes due.

Modern Masters: Kevin Maguire arrived on Friday. Mr Maguire, as it turns out, suffers from ADD, and his interviews do not make for the most thrilling reading:

MM: So what led up to the creation of that book?
Kevin: I have no idea. Hey, I found a penny!

But it's still better than Neal Adams going on about continental drift and how the Nasonex Bee is the greatest CGI character ever because people care about him. (No, I am not making that up.) And it's full of bitchin' art.

Modern Masters: Kevin Maguire is up for pre-order on Amazon.

http://www.amazon.com/Modern-Masters-10-Kevin-Maguire/dp/1893905667/sr=8-1/qid=1157483885/ref=sr_1_1/002-9932209-3208857?ie=UTF8&s=books

DC's gonna do pre-school toys, like the Spider-Man and Friends line. I will die of cute. If they don't fuck it up.

Hey Robinettes!

The new issue of DC's Solo has a Steff solo story in it.