Awkward Cock

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Awkward cock

Hair art! I haven't done one in a while. I suppose a naked showering body just needs to wait for inspiration. Patiently, so the genius can just flow through.  I haven't had a lot of patience or time in the shower in the last... (how many months has it been?)

But sometimes, when you are putting titloads of conditioner in your dried out winter hair, inspiration strikes... And this is what comes of it.

Grace.

Swords and Dragons

It was a sword. It was pretty good too. And fast to create. However, I did it about 4 days ago. It probably shouldn’t still actually be stuck there, but because I’ve been having Whore Baths** instead of full-on-showers for the last 4 days, there it is.

And I figured since I’ve been slacking with the Conditioned Hair Art, I probably shouldn’t let this one get away.

Dragons. Then Swords. Next, I’ll have armor. And THEN we’re all going on a proper adventure. It’s been some months since proper adventure, after all.

You know too much. Lucky You.

Grace.

**Whore Baths: When you get naked with your hair tied up, in front of the running bathtub faucet. Splash, soap, and rinse ONLY your Pits, Ass Crack, Cunny, and then get the fuck out of the tub to start your day. 

The Dragon Goes Rrar.

It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these. But, I’ve been seeing these guys all over the place, so….

They’ve been SPEAKING to me. Of strength and trust and wisdom… Which I find VERY very interesting, considering all-the-things. They were in the habit of not so much speaking, but being threatening things to stick swords into.

In highschool, I carried around a dragon shaped eraser in my red and black Lumber Jacket, under my white leather jacket with all the tassels. He was purple. He came from a cereal box. I think it was Lucky Charms, but I could be wrong. (I’ll have to Google that shit later. ) I would pull him out, look deep into the eyes of the person who he was being presented to, and in a deep gravelly voice, go :

“Rrrrarrrrr!”

Anyway. Not exactly sure what they want of me NOW. But, it has something to do with timelines, reconciliations lit by Blue Light, and gifts for ultimate choices.

Rrar.

Grace.

A Merry Shit-Less Christmas.

So, all year long, I’m pretty much on the “De-materialize Christmas!” soap box. Loudly.

And all year, I do pretty awesomely with it. I mean, I really MEAN it all year long.

And then THIS fucking week happens. This week, before Christmas, where I sort of freak out a little bit. Because, I feel pressured to get SHIT for PEOPLE.

I’ve been doing Christmas pretty much “shit-less” for about 4 or 5 years. But still. There are children in the family. And then I feel like a cock. I mean, I bake them cookies. But that’s it.

Anyway. Luckily I had a Beautiful Man with me when the urge to get out my credit card hit, and he reminded me  who I am.

And, I’m fucking PAGAN. I don’t know why I let this shit get to me at ALL.

When I am independantly wealthy, I will TOTALLY be that bitch that either:

a) leaves town during the holidays, or

b) just TELLS everyone I’ve left for the holidays, but really I hide out at home reading and having long hot baths till it’s all over.

Grace.

Wicked Witch of the North

eeling like a bit of a Wicked Witch today. For a few different reasons. I’m pretty sure I’m doing what is right for me, and everyone involved…. others around me are not feeling it as much as me, though, I guess.

Can’t please everyone. Not immediately anyway.

Now, If I only had some flying monkeys. Fuck yeah. Flying Monkeys would be the shit.

 

Grace. Cackle Cackle. Sigh.

Sock Monkeys

I’ve been making a titload of sock monkeys.

(Go ahead. Ask me how much a titload is.)

I sell them in a little shop downtown. I can’t sew fast enough to make any fucking money at it.

This blurry little bastard is watching me shower.

 

Titloads.

Grace.

Happy Phantom

Had the Tori Amos song “Happy Phantom” stuck in my head in the shower…  And I’ll go wearing my naughties like a jewel!

However, I MAY have given myself boy-naughties under that dress. Don’t over analise it.

And then, the Phantom showed up. He wasn’t entirely happy though.

And, my camera is an asshole, so I had to frig with the photo so you could SEE the ghost.

Anyway. I was ALMOST late for work today. Mainly because I spent too damn much time in the shower doodling this.

Grace.

Harley to Scooter. VROOM.

What started off as a big bald dude on a Harley…

 

Ended up becoming a bent over old lady on a scooter.

I don’t want to overanalyse this at all. AT ALL.

Grace.

Bo. Again.

SO. It’s BO. The Asshole Cat. I think he needs a theme tune.

 

He’s got Big Hairy Cat Balls. On my walls. Balls to the Walls.

And Look. He’s scaring the shit out of the Ghost, that I hadn’t zamboni’d off the wall yet.

Grace.

Boo!

Boo!

Because it’s all fecking Halloweenie every where there is retail. And 3 days of the week, I’m JOYING in Retail.

Camera is still an jerk. This was the best pic out of around 15 shots. I will own this shite yet.

 Grace.

Sads.

Today, I think I have the Sads.

This is a fecking AWESOME post! People LOVE this shit, right? Drama that belongs to someone other than themselves! WOOT!

So, I haven’t brushed my hair in a day or two… maybe three. Don’t know. I’ve been busy eating chocolate.

Anyway, more hair than usual came out with the conditioner. And her face just sort of formed. And then BOOM, I heard my ex-almost-sister-in-law saying to me “Do you have the saaaads?” in her cute baby voice that she uses with my ex-almost-niece-in-law. Which made me even sadder.

Anyway. Yay for art. And clean hair.

Hiss Boo for cameras that don’t pick up details of Conditioned Hair Art, but pick up EVERY fucking gross line of grout that STILL needs to be scrubbed.

Gross.

Grace.

P.S. My heart and my vagina are conspiring against me. Don’t they understand I’m ON THEIR TEAM???
P.P.S. I will eat copious amounts of junk food in an attempt to feel better. It’s not RIGHT, I know, but it’s TOTALLY what’s going to happen.

Crisis-oline. Aka The F*cker

I’ve realized I may be having a crisis of sorts. It really didn’t become very very apparent, until I realized that there was a $400 violin in my trunk. And I have no idea how to play. And it had been sitting in there for 24 hours after the initial purchase. Also, the same day I bought it, I got a new tattoo. I’ll work on getting a decent pic of that. With my asshole camera. Which is also new.

Have I mentioned that I work in a thrift store, part time, at minimum wage? When I’m not very casually touching feet as a reflexologist, oh, maybe once or twice a week. When I’m not very very casually reading tarot cards?

Crisis.

Some shit had gone down last week. Big hairy stupid dramatic shit. But it’s all good. Because I bought a Crisis-oline. And I will survive. I’ll tell you all about it when I’m not fucking raw and losing my shit.

There’s a happy dude dancing beside The F*cker. That’s what I call the Crisis-oline when it makes that horrific squeaky noise… mostly on the e string. So, Crisis-oline is also sometimes referred to as The F*cker.
eeee! eeeee! eeee! It’s terrible. I can’t believe I bought it. I’m a gawdamn SINGER. How does one sing and play the violin? I should take a picture of The F*cker. But not in the shower. To show you what throwing away $400 looks like.

Anyway. Happy Dude.

And, grout still not clean. Don’t care today.

F*cker.

Self Portrait

So. It’s a self portrait today.

 

And it’s clear to me that I’m pretty happy today – joy! AND that my grout needs scrubbing. *swears*
And also, that I blame my arsey camera for the crappy pic. (It’s new, and I haven’t figured out how to use it. fifty thousand options, and not one of them can focus on the hair.)

Grace