Hot XXX figure drawing action!

Maybe you're like me. You'd like to get to a life drawing class now and then, but you work full time and then some, and you've got responsibilities at home, so you haven't gone to a class in a long time. Well I'm about to let you in on a little secret: You know that "personal computer" thingy that's sitting on your desk that you thought was only good for word processing and doing your taxes? Well it turns out that if you log on to the "internet" (ask a young person), you can actually find lots of photographs of nude figure models. I'm serious, there must be literally hundreds of them! Sometimes they even show up in my "electronical mail", without me having to do anything! All I can figure out is that someone is putting these sites up as some kind of a public service for home-bound illustrators. Perhaps someday when "e-commerce" (again, sorry for the technical jargon) is more developed, someone will figure out some kind of angle to market this stuff. Whoever does that is going to make a fortune!

Barsoom Blues

This is all Leland's fault. (I've been using that as an all-purpose excuse since about 7th grade, so why stop now.)

The other day Leland was geeking out about the upcoming movie based on a series of science fiction books called something like "Jimmy Carter, President of Mars", by William S. Burroughs. When we were kids we were huge fans of those books and used to draw those characters all day. At some point I said something totally self-important like, why am I working for a living when movies like that need production designers to stand around eating craft service and hitting on PA's. After considering that for a second he called me a homo, said that I never could even draw Tars Tarkas right, knocked me down, took my lunch money, and got Lisa Schlavin from 7th grade homeroom on the phone so they could laugh about what a joke my career is. True story.

FYI, Tars Tarkis is not to be confused with Tars An, which is a completely different series of novels by the same author. Tars An is a postmodern story of existential horror, which asks the question: What if a wild man of the jungle had to go around with his whole life being narrated by late-period Phil Collins music, and he hardly ever got to do anything, mostly because Rosie O'Donnel thinks she's funny. Not for the faint of heart.