crud lumps

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Muaaaaaagh.

Crap.

I have all of these political rants and pop culture musings to crap out, but… nah. Not worth the effort. Maybe later.

I have to do something about my weekends. They’re not working out for me. I had two days off in a row again this week, but they oozed by the same way that they always do. I start off all excited, of course. Two days off! Woo! Oh, it’s going to be great…

…but i waste too much time. It’s hard to get jazzed up about drawing when it’s four in the morning. I start too many things, and change my mind, and everything i draw ends up looking like crap. And i end up with a bunch of hasty sketches to finish during the week.

And i play some Caliber. And walk the dogs. And drink coffee. And do laundry. And walk the dogs again. And then the two days are gone, poof, and i end up feeling tired and frustrated. I need more exercise. The dogs need more exercise. It never gets done. I have these grand ambitions to learn Illustrator and Zbrush. They never get done.

Fuck!

Where does my time go?

I see a call for artists at GunshipRevolution and i don’t know what to send them. I feel like such an amateur.

I know what i need to do. I have to finish up all this fanboy crap that i’m working on, and then just HALT. No more penny-ante commissions, no more jams, no more requests and no more one-shot silly crap. I have all these fans on DeviantArt and they all want me to do things for them. I need to tell them, at least in my mind, to go screw off. There are about 36 weeks left in this year. I need to fucking FOCUS one epic piece per week instead of trying to finish four piddly ones. So that by the end of the year, i have thirty GOOD drawings to send to people with websites that have trendy names like GunshipRevolution.

I always promise this, but i never deliver. I have to deliver.

>__<

On the plus side, i’m not drinking, not smoking, and not on any prescription meds. Not that everybody needs to live like i do. I just do better without any stuff in me.

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We finally got the deed to Mary’s trailer. Now it’s ours. Now we have to fucking sell it as soon as possible. Please. I don’t even hope for a profit any more, i just want my $7,500 back. Let this be over.

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My new coworker is kind of lame. He’s not bad, i guess, just boring. Just another wage slave who spends all his time fidgeting, sighing, and moving his chair around while talking about not wanting to be there and looking for a new job that he’d hate just as much but at least it’d be more money. Come on, man. Either do something, or just go to sleep. That’s the choice that most people face. But don’t just linger on in your state of hideous waking death. CHOOSE.

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Hey, remember that movie Super that i was talking about? Here’s some clips if you’re interested in seeing Ellen Page act like a freaking maniac for no reason. I love this thing.

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So hey, read my Blog, or you can see me on Twitter, or check out my Behance Network gallery, or see my LinkedIn profile, or visit my Facebook Page, or see my Tumblr, or see my Art Pics on Pinterest. It’s up to you.