This drawing has been in the top corner rotation for a while, but I have recently altered it.
The drawing is based on my friend Karen’s senior portrait. Karen is one of my few friends from high school with whom I continue to stay in touch. She is, in fact, currently aware of the existence of this drawing. I think.
Here’s another pencil drawing I made I few years ago, of a pair of women, possibly with mischief on their minds.
In the interest of full disclosure, these characters also had complete bodies at one time. However, they were very poorly drawn and so I opted to cut them from the picture. You have an issue with that, you go take it up with my attorney.
I am pleased with this pencil drawing I made of a lady’s midsection:
She had boobs, but I cropped them out of the picture. This is a family website.
I have added some new faces to the roster of rotating characters that appear in the space at the top left corner of the page, and I modified a couple of the existing ones to improve their artistic quality. If you would like to take a look at the full roster of faces, I have made it available here, although it loses some of its magic when you see them all together like that. If my energy ever again matches my ambition I’ll put in larger versions of the graphics and notes on the characters depicted in the drawings. Presently, however, it is what it is. And yes, I’m aware the ratio of females to males is just absolutely shameless. Nevertheless, enjoy!
After my last entry, I got to thinking about how I wasn’t really keeping any of my other resolutions, so why should I keep the one to make 365 Daily Heys in the year 2002? To give myself some reassurance, I shall review my list from January 1:
I resolve to make it a habit to go to bed much earlier than I generally did throughout 2001 (and most of my natural life, for that matter).
Not a chance. If anything, I’ve gotten worse.
I resolve to keep my trash/dishes/laundry situations on a much tighter leash than I have in the past.
It is uncertain on quantifiable terms whether I have stuck to this one or not; but I do seem to clean my apartment more than I used to. Which is not to say that the apartment is, on average, cleaner.
I resolve to let food go bad less frequently, or at least not feel as guilty about it when it does.
I have moldy cheese in the fridge and moldy donuts(!) on my kitchen counter, and I don’t feel bad about it at all.
I resolve to finish unpacking from when I moved in fifteen months ago.
Well, I still have six more months to do this.
I resolve to decorate the walls of my bedroom with tasteful posters and prints, because them walls are lookin’ bare.
As above.
I resolve to soup up my desktop computer so that it becomes a multimedia supermonster.
This is certainly on my agenda. I am simply waiting for a fiscal solvency that may never come…
I resolve to stop buying so many damned comic books.
Starting next week, I promise!
I resolve to use various pieces of exercise equipment to give myself rock-hard abs, or something to that effect.
Hmm… well, my weight has stabilized. That’s something.
I resolve to go to a dentist.
Oh, yeah. Gotta do that.
I resolve that I will take the next step in figuring out what I want to do with my life and how to proceed in that general direction.
Done. Applied to graduate school, will be matriculating in the fall.
I resolve to allow people to read my novel.
Also done. Although the novel still needs work.
I resolve that I will have read the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy before the second part hits the big screen.
It’s still possible.
I resolve to get my damned eye fixed, because it be buggin’ Sandy out.
I never got my eye “fixed”, as apparently there was nothing to “fix”, but I did get it checked out.
I resolve to spend at least half an hour per day drawing.
Much more difficult than it sounds.
I resolve that I will make 365 Daily Hey entries in the year 2002, even if it means I have to write 100 entries on December 31 in order to catch up.
I guess we’ll see. Looks like I’ve stuck to a good many of my resolutions. Let’s see how many I can break before the year ends.
The countdown to June 30 approaches. What is significant about June 30? Aside from being the tenth anniversary of when my braces were forcibly yanked off my teeth by the all-powerful orthodontist, it is also noteworthy because it marks the year’s halfway point. This is significant here at the Lucubus because back at the beginning of the year I made a resolution (which I am unlikely to repeat next year) to have 365 Daily Hey entries for 2002, even if it means doing tons and tons of catch-up on December 31.
In order to avoid the extra work I’m going to have to do at the end of the year, I am going to jump in and play Six-Month Catch Up. This will basically consist of dozens and dozens of short Daily Heys all posted within minutes of each other. I am unsure how far I am behind the 182.5 posts I’ll want to have when the clock strikes midnight on July 1, but I am sure one of you human computers out there can go in and take a look for me.
In addition, I am considering adding one or two more correspondents to the Lucubus team. And because there is no challenge like a needless one, I have another blog project in development.
“When do you have time to do all this?” is a question I am frequently asked. The answer, unfortunately, is not good advice on time management: it replaces several dozen perfectly good sleeping hours per week. But I think it’s worth it. Isn’t it?
The above headline is the error message I have been receiving all week. I suppose it is a mixed blessing, as it has left the entry about my parents’ anniversary up at the top long enough so that my parents have surely looked at it by now. And certainly I have needed a break. But steps are being taken to return this blog to normal service, making all stops between downtown and the airport. Please stand clear of the doors. Por favor, manténganse alejado de las puertas. Smoking, littering, and loud devices are not permitted. Soliciting on CTA trains is prohibited. Violators will be arrested.
Today, 3 June 2002, is a very special day. Special indeed, because thirty years ago, my mother and father got married in a grand ceremony with much weeping. Step into the way-back machine with me, why don’t you, and let’s revisit the young couple with a photograph carefully chosen to irritate my mother, should she ever learn how to activate a computer let alone access my web page:
Marilyn “Myrt” Rector and Russell “Rusty” Haynes “Hack” Hackett III lived in the same apartment complex and were introduced by a mutual friend. He was a student in medical school; she was making a humble living doing whatever it was she was doing. Maybe she was a waitress or something. (Little help here? Anybody?) Nevertheless, despite their differences, they soon fell in love.
Neither can remember when the marriage proposal occurred, if in fact it did at all; evidence perhaps of hard partying or (my own pet theory) of an elaborate trick perpetrated by both families in an effort to get their remaining single children married off. Regardless, the marriage occurred thirty years ago today, and soon enough, thirty years ago tomorrow, my older brother John was born. Ha ha! Just kidding! He wasn’t born until at least eight months later. A couple years later, the middle and best child was born, and then some years after that, my younger brother; and we have been a happy, healthy, farting-in-the-kitchen family ever since.
This third day of June is notable for another reason, one which stands in contrast with the long, happy marriage of my parents. Today is the birthday of my ex-wife Darian, with whom I have five small children. At least, they were small last time I saw them, if you drift my gift. By an astounding coincidence, she is also celebrating her thirtieth year, if you consider the beginning of life to be exactly five years before one is born. Darian and the kids now live on the other side of the continent, shacking up in a Seattle trailer park with an industrial musician named Spike, or Brick, or Kip, or one of those other names which contain an i and a k.
We were young and impetuous, but even on the day of our senior prom wedding we were not afraid to goof around:
So, in memory of those good times, happy birthday to you, Darian, and I hope that the kids don’t tax you too much in the coming months. I’m taking good care of the chinchillas, just like I promised I would!
The author would like to point out that portions of the above story are either fictionalized accounts, embellishments for the sake of clarity, and/or bald-faced lies.
Today, as I sat in the cafeteria eating my lunch, which consisted of a turkey cobb salad wrap (sans bacon ? I’m trying to get healthy, don’t you know), I was overcome by the desire to blow my nose. In fact, it is not at all uncommon for me to desire to blow my nose whilst I am eating, and the slight cold I have had for the last few days simply made the condition more pronounced. I reached for one of the many extra napkins I had appropriated while in line for the cash register ? I am in the habit of obtaining extra napkins for exactly this purpose ? and proceeded to blow my nose into it. As I did so, a young man with long hair appeared in front of me, and asked for my attention.
It is not common for nasal discharge to make a noise on its own, after it has actually been blown out of the nasal passages, that is. As I looked up at the man, however, there was an audible snap as a clingy boogery mass reluctantly broke away from the inside of my right nostril and found a new home in the brown paper napkin. The young man stared at me briefly, blinked his eyes, and, smiling slightly, began his presentation.
The presentation consisted of him asking me whether I would be interested in viewing a trailer for a new Matthew Perry/Elizabeth Hurley (or was it Elizabeth Berkley?) movie and participating in valuable marketing research. But that part of the story is not very interesting. I just wanted to share the bit about the booger, and the young man’s impressive lack of reaction to it, despite having clearly seen it, and heard it, in all its boogery glory.
Because, you see, I am gross.
As a young stand-up comic, Lucas Hackett was notorious for incorporating audience participation into his act. Here, in a complicated routine on prehistoric man, he demonstrates an ancient birthing position for an unpleasantly surprised Mr. Young Levi Stahl.
Frankly, I can’t be arsed.
Frankly, I can’t be bothered.
It’s been a while since I posted a drawing for you folks, so I figured I’d dig around and find one. Unfortunately, my graphics tablet is on the fritz, and it’ll be a long time before I save up enough pennies to buy me one of these dealies. So I do not have anything inked and colored and cleaned up real nice. All I have for you is raw pencils. Consider this an “unplugged” version of one of my drawings, although it should be noted that the scanner was in fact plugged in, as is this very computer.
See? I DO draw males!
Have you ever been in a situation where you really wanted to shout “GOD DAMN IT!” or “JESUS H. CHRIST!” but had to bite your tongue, because you were wary of sensitive religious folk around?
Here’s the solution to this persistent and annoying problem.
Damnburgers! and its sister phrase Jeezburgers! can be uttered anywhere at any time when the situation calls for it. Even the most pious religious types will have to applaud your ability to cleverly express your frustration or amazement without invoking the names of any deities or messianic beings.
Just send a check or money order for $29.95 to receive a free informational kit. Learn how YOU can work Damnburgers! and Jeezburgers! into your everyday conversation. Also, learn how you can open a lucrative Damnburgers fast food restaurant franchise!
Damnburgers! That Damnburgers! looks good on you!
It’s Memorial Day… I figured that maybe I should take some time to remember those who died in our nation’s service. You have issues with that?