I am sitting and waiting here patiently for a call back or a text message from the woman who gave birth to a screaming me, many a-year ago. It was the mother's birthday a few days ago, and I made her something I hope she'll fucking love.
I am sure all of you can keep a secret (also I wont give out her phone number, so you can ruin the surprise), but I painted and scratched away at the surface of a 12inch vinyl so that it made an elephant constellation among many stars. The mother is a big fan of giraffes, and elephants, and little knick-knacks that seem authentically african, altho they were made somewhere in the states. And by that they really meant it was made in a basement somewhere in portage la prairie.
But that is beyond the point. I do think she'll love it.

Christmas is coming up. By the way.
Anyone who didnt notice, just making sure you see this. Christmas is coming, and quickly. Less than a week. Sorry if you were stressing about unbaked goods, or unbought presents, but I thought I'd turn the heat up a little bit and light a fire under your metaphorical asses.
Ahhhhhhh, isn't the pressure just absolutely wonderful???

That means there is 6 more days I have to fill up a few blank pages in either of my sketchbooks. That will be two complete sketchbooks in one year (count it: christmas to christmas, bitches)

Thank YOU, baby jesus, for the plethora of mandarin (aka "christmas...") oranges that enter my belly on a daily basis.
See? We have lots to be thankful for.
Damn it. It's not thanksgiving, tho. So now what?