Recently I’ve come to realize that life is short, and forever closer than ya might think. At anytime, the Sweet Lord Jesus could swoop down from Heaven in His chariot of fire, scoop up my ancient ass and take me away to my eternal reward.
The first thing I’d say to Him , besides “Thank you Jesus” is: “Hey Lord, don’t forget my buddy Jock”.
A lot was going on in July of 2017. Unfortunately, this is just about all of it I can remember – and only because of thorough documentation,. I’m finding that if I don’t write it down , I’m not gonna remember it. [I haven’t found out yet that prioritizing things in order of importance is of any substantial value].
Although I’m glad that I did document these images, the downside of featuring the date so prominently, kinda sucks the possibility of other titles out of consideration. “Love Is In The Air” could have been a good one; “Hanging Loose In the Heavens” another. “No Time For Romance” is a hot one. “More Strange Shit” overstates the obvious. You can call it anything you want.
Here’s one I did two years ago way back in the good ol’ days of 2016. I was on a roll back then, just grinding out images based on a theme. I know….A lot of these things look like giant bratwursts afflicted with rare diseases. What can I say?
When I was in Germany visiting some relatives I’d never seen before, they decided to go all out and treat me to a German breakfast treat: Weiss-wurst. Weiss-
worst wurst are small white sausages, that are boiled, and to make them totally un-appetizing, usually served on a white plate. It’s made of veal (baby cows) and other assorted pork products. I think sausages, or other meat products encased in animal intestines, are gross, and nothing more than a way to recycle every part of the pig except the ‘oink’. [I think God intended us to eat our food from the outside in, Not inside out]. Who knows what you’re getting or where it came from? Although I may be a little fuzzy as to where bacon comes from, I sure knew which part of Porky Pig our Christmas hams came from.
Be sure to check-out this video for the fine art of eating Weisswurst.
This one really doesn’t need any explanation. Sometimes I like to work on a theme, and the theme for mid August last year was women on fish hooks. Women often times fix themselves up in order to be more attractive to men: earrings, eye shadow, jewelry, a little cleavage, all man-attracting items. This is not unlike when I go trout fishing in the Sierras. If I wanna catch a fish, I gotta put something on my hook that they like. What they see in a sparkly pink globule of freshly out of the jar Power Bait is beyond me. But it works every time – stupid fish.
I think these drawings would have worked out better if I had a model to draw from. Sadly, The Wife refused, and I only had my imagination, and warped sense of anatomy to go on. Image yourself in your living room, sitting in your favorite recliner, feet up, eyes closed blissfully listening to the Doors “Light My Fire”, when all of a sudden women on fish hooks start descending from the ceiling. Would you snap at one like a fresh out of the hatchery trout, or, would you think twice? I’d like to think that I’m a better man than that. I’d also like to think that I’m still 18 years old, and a lot of other things that ain’t never gonna happen.
This past Christmas The wife hung these pine scented candles on our Xmas tree because the tree had no pine smell to it. How a pine tree doesn’t have a scent is beyond me. Maybe Monsanto has even genetically modified Xmas trees not to smell so they can sell us pine scented products (same division that makes the herbicide Round-Up) on the side. The problem was, to me, these scented candles smelled like the cakes they throw in urinals to keep the stink down. Kinda spoils the Yuletide festivities when your front room smells like a gas station restroom. Every time I stood next to our beautifully decorated tree to admire all the ornaments, I found myself unzipping my pants and wanting to take a whizz on it.
For any of you who remember Hot Dog Man…He’s back! This is what Hot Dog Man looks like when he’s had too much medication. Not that there’s anything wrong with too much medication; I do believe that everybody functions at their best when properly medicated. It’s that sometimes, too much is just…too much. But then again there’s a certain compelling logic to the “if a little is good, a lot is better” school of thought.
Despite the fact that I’m blurting this stuff out to the whole worldwide web (half a dozen followers for this blog) my drawings are not for general consumption. Hot Dog Man is kinda like an alter-ego for me. I get to act out through him, what The Wife never allows me to do when she’s home. I rarely show my sketchbooks to her friends. They’ll politely look through them, but are mostly aghast, and later question her about any obsessive-compulsive behaviors I might have. All a total embarrassment, which I happily post for your edification.
I’m a multi-media sort of guy. Most of the stuff I’ve been posting recently has been on brown paper. But I don’t just use brown paper only, I use white paper too! In fact, I use quite a lot of white paper because brown paper sketch books are really expensive so ya only wanna put you really good stuff in them. Old Hansi ain’t made of money. I don’t wanna end up like some of my broke social security buddies having to eat cat food in order to survive. Every time I go over for dinner at their house, I gotta ask if we’re having canned food or kibbles – I really don’t like dry-food.