But a couple months ago I gave him a lighter and a cigarette, and today he wanted to return the lighter. It's not often that homeless people get you back.
"No, man, keep it."
"Oh, thank you, Sunshine, God blesshoo. Happy Thursday."
And now I want to draw a picture for him, but I don't know how to properly represent him on paper without the distinct smell of booze and smokes.
Luckily, Mountain Lover is obsessed with me (rightly so) and fuck yeah she gave me a blog award, which is just soooo supergay. It doesn't surprise me, though, because she's very introspective and cool, and well...so am I. And I can't very well draw a picture for Mongo and not for Mount. But whereas Mongo is like, a scattered, shiney, warrior woman, Mount is somehow more tender, yet more solid. She's a giver. She's like, the type of person you want to have as a mentor, a sister. An anchor. I'm pretty sure she's in love with love.
And well, she likes to fuck mountains.
And secondly, the glowing Renal Failure made me a member of the covetted T-Lott Posse (it's very exclusive). And I'm all kinds of retarded for his blog, so this was exciting for me. I'm always afraid that I'm too inadequate to comment over there, and I'll come up with something to say, turn chicken, and pull out. Then I do say something and get all nervous. So Renal, this bean's for you:
If anyone else would like to give me something, I'll be drawing things all day. I've already coded all sorts of messages for my boss in interpretive pictures, such as:
Let's see him figure that one out. He deserves it. I've never had to answer his calls before.
NOTE TO BLUESTREAK: I'm working on a picture for you. After all, you gave me my first award ever.
...
14 comments:
It's like arts and crafts day over here! I'm going to try and use my abilities to glue popsicle sticks together to impress some 8-year-olds.
Can you build me a bridge, while you're at it? I need something to shoot this rocket at.
Oh Rassles, you are right on so many levels, it's scary. It's like you know me.
Lesson I learned today: do not read Rassle's blog when your boss is near your desk. You'll receive puzzled looks when you erupt into laughter. And really, how do you explain this?
since when have you become an artiste? and where is my fucking picture?
I was hoping you would.
Kangaroo pouch plumber's crack? Hmm... I'm really not good at riddles.
Great doodles, though. I can draw a stick figure and that's it.
Mount: That was facetious, right? Because I don't think my description does you justice. As for your boss, what always works for me is, "I just got the memo about your face."
Linder: I would be all like, "give me presents, bitch" but you bought me beer yesterday, so...someday.
Blue: You're far more complicated to capture than I previously assumed.
Gypsy: No. What's in the kangaroo pouch? And the bottom line isn't a hard code, either. In fact, it's not a code at all.
My Interpretation of the picture:
My baby kangaroo wants to junk-punch your plumber's crack a whole hella lot.
Am I close?
ok, one, I didn't know you had mad arty skilz. two where's MY picture?
I has an F Bean!
I like your reason for not commenting more. I like to think that's why I don't get many comments, everyone's afraid to. Don't know why that would be, but I'll take it.
Mount: GAAAHHHHH. No.
FF: Give me presents, then. I only put out for gifts.
Renal: It's a failed kidney. Zing.
Joey smoked crack 1085 times? That's amazing!
I'm fairly certain (though I'm still working out the details) that the boxing kangaroo was kind of for me too.
Math: You are closest. But I'm not really surprised. After all, you're a mathdude.
Flor: No, I wouldn't draw you as a boxing kangaroo, but rather boxing a kangaroo.
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