White Spaces, Reptilians, and Blow Jobs

The cover of this week's Drawing Party Adventure:
It's kinda got an Om-y thing going on. And what poirfect poriple parallel lines!




The tails of Puerto Rico.




Some more artifacts from what will always be, at least in our hearts, the 51st State. Those are fro'd chickens hawking a swaddled baby.






Swaddled Ancient Tainos trip out on peyote before carving petroglyphs:






















It's true.







Read this one from top to bottom aloud and loud.
Build in intensity with each new "Total"; there are seven of them, so time this crescendo just right. Then when you get to the "Recall", raise the pitch of your voice, and sustain the second syllable like a football shaped mushroom cloud hanging over Texas.

















White Space ain't no waste.
Know what is a waste? Printing books.
Paper is for drawing.














Don't you eco-femmes worry your pretty little consciences 'bout nothin! Every 1,000 years, or 100 billion drawings, whichever comes first, the Drawing Party recycles all of its drawings, and launches its dead sharpies into ou-ter-space...





Ah yes! It's that 8-bit bedroom where I can finally fuck Sodapopinsky, and the Two Abobos.




The Eiffel Tower. Cui bono?









Zirschwing Zuck. Kinda?




Coffee Thought Ball. Soymilk on the spoon. And god-damn dominos.



















Q-beau Jackson walks away from the Necker Cube Prison that consumed his cousin Bert.




Yeah yeah yeah. This ones all gestural hype. Shoot that fuckin' Rocket Home. I don't care if Sword Arm Pear Man is sleeping inside.










A Swaddled Flushing Train.







































And now for the BJ's!!!








:: Commenting: It's a moral imperative mothmanfuckers!

Generation Draw

Okay fucky butts, I give you the Remainder of the Fucking Drawings! Grab a sody and some bagel chips, and savor the sweet lines of these eight and a half by elevensies.

Here's a few caduceus doodles.




And here's the wonderful drawing they begat:
It's the symbol of the World Snake. At the moment of your death, She eats your consciousness for breakfast.



At a totally different party, another kind of caduceus was drawn, that of the new money symbol, the World Snake curled around a corn on the cob.




More stellar porno from Schmelaura.




Yes, I love that song. And just like "You oughta know", it's really about Dave Coulier.




Marvelous: A frog thinks of a dog on a fiddleheaded sidewalk.




Super Mario 3 blocks.




Drunken stellar sleep.




Portrait. L-wig M-tesa.







Topless beach under Israel's Sun. (Silverchair rules ♫)



Plant a seed in your eye.




This is what is known as a "Topographical Portrait", or simply, a "Drawing Sculpture."



And here's how it's accomplished.







Necking a clocktower, the giraffe generates fireworks from her tail.




The sea kisses the air.




Damn dead hookers coming loose.




I LOL'ed for this one. Will you LOL for me now?








Regressional Drawing.






Dragons keep hordes of physical gold. That's a smart investment move from any sober analyst's perspective. I'm talkin' bullion. And fuckin' kruegers.









Workin' out.














A good night for papier-mâché chickens to eat half-dead whores.








What a lovely teradactyl egg.




A Picasso fuck.




A portrait of Pat Metheney.












The Post-Peak Oil Hierarchy. If you attend the Drawing Parties, you're probably in the Losers Caste, right below the middle-class gurdians, and the elite hands.




This is fucktastic, Schmelou-lou!




Sometimes you gotta "Say the Drawing".
Squids forever. Butterfly morphin teeth.
Ghosts; great ghosts.







Guns are so hard to draw.













Fiddleheady sun and clouds. Candy-colored peaks. Balloons at the gates of the Taj.







There's demons in here.






Christina's World has a tree swing (arboreal oscillator).




Miss ya bro.









Creation Stick.




Ludwig likes to draw "Sex Strings" between stick figures.




Molecular Modernism.






The back of God as she approaches the World Tree.












Crossing the Zirschicon. Nope?




Why? Why? Why, Salvia Divinorum? Why did you open up a Mouth-Wave in my Flash-Head? And why can't I close It?






There's a video for this one. It hasn't come out yet, but it's Coming Soon.



Fireballs are my fav.




I leave you off with the sensational note Ludwig wrote at Chicken Paltz.
It's one of his best.





::Fuck you for not commenting, otherwise, thank you.