Just so everyone knows, I'm not dead or anything. I haven't abandoned the blog already. Drawing my crappy pictures takes a lot of time. And I am on shiny new medication for my bi-polar crazy disorder. This results in 2 things happening: extreme mania where I will draw for fucking days, do random retarded shit, write insane stories, and take notes for new blog ideas, but nothing will actually be COMPLETED.
Then I will crash. And I will crash HARD. But don't worry kiddies, because I am coming out of that horrible crash and starting to level out and act like I have some goddamn sense. So all those retarded stories that are half written and unpublished, will eventually be finished and published (and edited so you fine folks will know what the fuck I'm talking about), and the drawings will be done very soon as well. Aside from my bi-polar crazy disorder, I am also plagued with migraines. These also impede my productivity. But when I'm just being an ass and being fucking lazy I have a very beautiful woman named Allie in Oklahoma that is on my ass daily, texting me and telling me to post shit so I can become famous. You all should worship her because not only is she cracking the metaphorical whip over my head to make my lazy ass be more productive, she's also my muse and even though she's 9 hours away from me, for almost 2 years now she's kinda been one of my few reasons for functioning. I don't function MUCH, but when I do, she's one of the reasons. Oh and she's the subject of a GREAT story that I can only describe as "Bathroom Triage." It's a fucking epic story. You guys will love it. And before anyone says anything about the events leading up to it, SHE ASKED ME TO TELL THAT STORY. So there.
Oh and my doctor gave me some crazy steroids for my boob pain (I'm sure you all wanted to know that) and I have been throwing up everything like I've got the fucking Ebola virus or herpes or whatever disease makes you puke until you wish you were dead. And my boobs still hurt...bastard pills. I quit taking them. I would rather have sore boobs.
Then I will crash. And I will crash HARD. But don't worry kiddies, because I am coming out of that horrible crash and starting to level out and act like I have some goddamn sense. So all those retarded stories that are half written and unpublished, will eventually be finished and published (and edited so you fine folks will know what the fuck I'm talking about), and the drawings will be done very soon as well. Aside from my bi-polar crazy disorder, I am also plagued with migraines. These also impede my productivity. But when I'm just being an ass and being fucking lazy I have a very beautiful woman named Allie in Oklahoma that is on my ass daily, texting me and telling me to post shit so I can become famous. You all should worship her because not only is she cracking the metaphorical whip over my head to make my lazy ass be more productive, she's also my muse and even though she's 9 hours away from me, for almost 2 years now she's kinda been one of my few reasons for functioning. I don't function MUCH, but when I do, she's one of the reasons. Oh and she's the subject of a GREAT story that I can only describe as "Bathroom Triage." It's a fucking epic story. You guys will love it. And before anyone says anything about the events leading up to it, SHE ASKED ME TO TELL THAT STORY. So there.
Oh and my doctor gave me some crazy steroids for my boob pain (I'm sure you all wanted to know that) and I have been throwing up everything like I've got the fucking Ebola virus or herpes or whatever disease makes you puke until you wish you were dead. And my boobs still hurt...bastard pills. I quit taking them. I would rather have sore boobs.
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