Monday, February 25, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Grandpa Roy has the most incredible profile ever. It's a combination of natural good looks, being the sole survivor of a sea plane that didn't land in the sea, and a few bouts with cancer. Don't interrupt him when he 's watching the military channel though.
Posted by hamish grieve at 11:02 AM
Roy told me he bought Virginia's plot "sight unseen" twenty years ago. He had never been up there till last week, and he said he just about fell over backwards when he saw it. It's pretty much the primo place in the cemetery, right up at the top, and shaded by Monterey Cypress.
Posted by hamish grieve at 10:55 AM
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
In my pursuit of the ultimate animation blog post I thought I'd combine RobotGirlMonster with Tiki. This will be available as a vinyl adult toy in a limited edition of 120000 exclusively from my web store at the bargain price of 350 dollars. Any day now.
Posted by hamish grieve at 1:03 PM
Monday, February 11, 2008
Friday, February 8, 2008
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Monday, February 4, 2008
I don't have any time right now, but I don't want to fall behind again, so I figured I'd just splat some ink on a page and try and do a drawing based on the blot. I guess the first one is a french revolutionary lawyer summing up his arguments as he sends the bishop to the guillotine, and the second is a couple of ladies having a nice chat in the sauna. It would probably have been quicker to just draw Armenians.
Posted by hamish grieve at 2:06 PM
Friday, February 1, 2008
I thought I'd share my dream from last night.
So I was fighting a duel with my dad in this old house. We were using fencing foils, but real ones. No corks on the end. He'd got some good hits in and I was bleeding pretty badly, but he let his guard down on an attack and I ran him through. He dropped to the floor stone dead. We were meant to meet the rest of my family at some unspecified place, and the phone now rang - where were we? I blustered some excuse. I'd put my dad on a bed and covered him with a sheet and now checked on him. He was stiff as a board and blue. The phone rang again and this time I admitted I'd killed him. My mum suggested I take him to the hospital. I picked up his rigid, but suprisingly small and light corpse, and started to walk out the room, when I thought I noticed some movement..."Dad! Dad...are you alive? His eyes blinked! I rushed to the hospital and slowly he started to revive from his very dead state...but as he did something strange was happening. He was getting younger. Finally he stood before me, completely well again, but as a 12 year old boy.
What d'ya make of that one Dad?
Posted by hamish grieve at 10:11 AM