^thats pretty cool man
you are such a stoner but
not to downplay the merit in that but do some real drawing!
edit: the R is wack as fuck haha
Last edited by vegimite on toast; 03-09-2011 at 10:43 AM.
I do draw, and paint, and those two pictures are the result of having to sit a computer with little to do.
Its paint, its pretty limited, I'm not taking it too seriously br0.
salvo the jaw line on your jon denver picture is a little mis-shaped, if you could just revise that and submit a new version that would be great, kthnx.
Last edited by Tony; 03-10-2011 at 01:11 AM.
>: (
It's true I knew the ripper when he was just a nipper, but the story don't end there,
boy. Yeah I taught 'im how to stab up and slash out in a violent
frenzy, but in the end the geezer went wrong so I had to silence 'im. Let me
tell you how it went down as I recall it all those years ago: It was 1850
(or thereabouts) and there was this little geezer called ian. "little ian"
we used to call him. He was a keen lad who used to like to earn a little bit
of extra pocket money hanging out with me and my green boys, running
errands an' that. We used to send im out for scotch eggs and crab sticks
while we were playing cards or raping.
One day we sent 'im out and he never came back. We waited and we waited
and finally I went out into the alleyway for a piss. And as I was hosing a dog
into a coma, fracturing its skull with me powerful wee-wee jet, I saw ian -
the little git - tryin' ta mug a posh geezer with a knife. The posh bloke weren't
'avin any of it so ian tried to stab 'im in the belly, but he was feeble and
small. All he succeeded in doing was giving the geezer an extra belt hole.
I was totally disgusted with this. If ian was goin' to roll with me and my crew
he was goin' to have to learn the basics. So i put myself away, trundled over
and showed 'im how to loosen the man's genitals in one swipe. 'like this, you
rubber johnny,' I said and gouged out the geezers eyeball and in one balletic
motion tucked it into his watch pocket:" Now you try." Ian seemed to pick it up
up quite naturally and I decided to let 'im live for another hour as a reward.
Pretty quickly he became my star student and he was out cutting up everyone
in sight: vicars, children, lepers, Labradors. Finally it was time for ian to go his
own way so I punched him in the face, threw his shoes in the thames and told
'im to get away from me or I would widen his head on a rack. He scuttled off
into the night like a tiny beetle, but a beetle in a man's outfit. You gotta be
cruel to be kind sometimes. ian had to find his own path. He couldn't spend
the rest of his life suckling from my titties.
I watched him disappear up the road and finally get knocked down by a horse
and cart, and then I went inside and started a fight with a foreign geezer who
was - in my opinion - breathing in too much oxygen. "how dare you?" I said.
"That's London air, you daft frog." "I'm not French" he replied, so I glued his
arms to the ceiling. Anyway, this is where the story takes an intresting turn.
Twenty-four years later I was coming back to Bethnal Green after selling
the crown jewels to an Arab gentleman called Cyril when I saw a silhouette
lurking in the shadows. What caught my single polo peeper was the
gentleman seemed to be wearing a top hat just like mine.
In fact at first I thought it was my own shadow created from the light of that
white gay ball some people refer to as the moon. But the figure started to
move around and I was pretty static at the time taking a dump into some
bushes. The figure approached another silhouette and took out what appeared
to be a dagger, or a screwdriver. Nice, I thought, one of my own boys on the
firm. But then the horror struck me. The geezer was pulling a knife out on a
lady, either that or a geezer in a dress. I could not believe it. Now I am pure
evil but I've got standards. Ladies are out of bounds. You can slap 'em around
a bit or shout at 'em, but stabbin 'em? - that is wrong. And this geezer was
about to cross the line. I wasted no time at all. I sprinted across the cobbles
and blew the character off his feet with a musket I happened to have on my
own person. The lady of the night thanked me in her own and individual way
(still got the warts to prove it) but here's the shocking part of the tale: after
I went through the geezers pocket for loose change (he weren't quite dead
so i took me boot off to finish what I'd started), I raised that red chelsea
boot high above my boatrace and I froze in a state of double decker
disgust and confusion.
You see, the geezer on the floor, writhing about in agony, was Ian, the little
tit who used to bring me scotch eggs while I was raping all those years ago.
He was the ripper! Jack they called 'im I think, Jack the ripper. I said,
"You know you've done wrong in yourself. Now i like to stab up a geezer
as much as the next man, but stabbing up a woman? That is now on, son.
Anyway, I thought your name was Ian." He looked up at me with his dying
breath and said, "Well, I thought "jack the ripper" had more of a ring to
it." And I agreed , and I finished 'im off with my boot. Took ages in the end
because he kept wriggling about on the cobbles like some kind of giant
maggot man. Anyway, I cut 'im up into tiny pieces and used 'im as confetti
at some kind of posh geezer's wedding. And that's why they never found
The Ripper, not because he was clever, or because he out foxed the police,
but because I used 'im as confetti at a wedding.
Hey
I started this blog to upload some of my pieces, wanna know what you all think tegnekaelderen.blogspot.com
yehOriginally Posted by jepp1119
I blogged this quote to think some of my pieces, know wanna what all you think ɯoɔ˙ʇodsboןq˙uǝɹǝpןǝɐʞǝubǝ
lol lol lol LOL LIOL LOOOOL
die i hope you die
wgnlrkgwrgklwa
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