CuteSplosion: Grand Master Yogi Kitten-Boo

In this video demonstration the Grand Master Yogi Kitten-Boo displays 44th level mastery of rubber bone technique. Impressive!

Comix

Here are two with a similar theme:


As of today it's only 67 days until the Worst President EVER is out of office. Be careful out there people.

Back to the Frivolity

First, a more appropriately sombre comic:

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And finally Canadian Politics:

Rememberance Day 2008

Thank you. To our Veterans and service people around the world.
And to those who sacrificed supremely, Thank you.
Thank you to all for being the brave ones. For standing up for all of us against the darkness. For just being there.
Thank you.

Characters

Name: Carl and Son [Little Carl]
Eyes: Hard plastic
Species: Giant Levitating Brain
Occupation: Shampoo Sales and Car wash Ownership
Future Plans: Brain Slave Army Creation
Biggest Disappointment: Little Carl
Things to ponder about Carl: Mrs. Carl, How giant brains reproduce.

Comix

I've been creating them since '06 so they'll be posted out of order for a while. At least until we catch up.

Click on the panel to see the whole thing.
Here's the first:

Redecorating

I started this blog in 2006 and immediately ignored it.
It's probably time I did something with it or delete it.
So let's see what happens.

It sits against the wall...

... in the corner.
The room is dimly light. Light meakly enters through windows now opaque with time and neglect. The four square frame partially hidden behind the remains of gauzy sheers. The wiring is ancient and unsafe but it doesn't matter, there hasn't been electricity in years.
The paper on the walls is faded and the floor is bare board. The cupboard is the only furniture left in the room. The room is cool and dry and carries the odor of a long vacancy.
Approaching the cupboard makes the floor creek appropriately. The carved wooden doors do too but it's a lighter sound. The sound of brass hinges stiff with disuse. A duo of creeking.
The cupboard is bare and you can see through a large crack in the back where years of dry summers and miserable wet winters had finally split the wood. If you close your eyes and inhale you can smell rain.