I don't want to put a rat in your face cage - or whatever it is you kids say these days

I had a little hospital visit last week that left me wiped out for days afterwards, but I don't mind saying that those drugs they give you before they shove a camera up your jacksie are the bomb.  I'm almost tempted to go back for another spin except for, y'know, the camera they shove up your jacksie, which I do not actually recall but still object to on general principle.
Anyhoo, now that nonsense is out of the way, my often-delayed return to some semblance of routine can't be postponed any longer and Paul and Dirk's scripts have to be illustrated as best a shambling Irish chimp can manage when he's declared a jihad on most of the photoshop tools to do with colour and grey tones, just as he's drawing lots of crowd scenes of robot Jesuses and could arguably do with something to muddy the pages and obscure the shortcuts and fumbled perspective.  The man writing this... he does not think things through.

That is so forty minutes ago. I bet you still tell your friends to chillax.

No work today for me to screengrab, so here's a quick sketch of Hal Jordan indulging in autoerotic asphyxiation instead.  Suggested in jest on this War Rocket Ajax podcast, I think this kind of quirk would give a very boring character some much-needed personality if he did it in the actual comics.

I wish your face would stop moving so I could punch it

It must be really frustrating when the actor you hire to impersonate your famous properties does something unsavory, like when the guy hired to portray the larger-than-life WWF character The Ultimate Warrior turned out to be a conservative nutbar, but what has really disappointed me is the actor hired to portray cartoon character Chuck Norris outing himself as a homophobic jerk.
But I remain upbeat because of all those positive messages at the end of those cartoons about standing up to bullies, never giving up, accepting differences, and so on.  The real Chuck Norris will always be awesome, regardless of the actions of the washed-up actor who used to portray him.

When my baby's all hopped up on jazz, he don't remember nothin'.

Not been posting lately for various reasons, but mainly to do with my only working pc being the tablet I nabbed from Amazon because I thought 60 quid was too good to be true - it was.  It's fine for browsing, but not so great for running art apps and interfacing with Blogger.  I am forever saying that you get what you pay for when it comes to electronics, but the first flash of a cheapo gadget and common sense goes out the window...
Also laughably out of practice with drawing body langidge, it seems.  I need to hoke out some Rob Liefeld comics to see how it's done.
In the meantime I'll be watching more new Dallas, back on screens after a mere 20 year break since the last episode, barring some tv movies that the makers of the new show have helpfully ignored entirely because when you're continuing a series after a 20 year break the best way to start it off clean is to render non-canon the telemovies that resolved that cliffhanger where JR was tricked into shooting himself by Satan. The new version of the theme is deeply underwhelming, but you can't have everything.  The rest of it is reassuring trash about rich white folk fucking each other or fucking each other over, mind, and JR is still a great telly bastard even before you get to his being a racist oligarch and environmental rapist.  This shit is like peanut M&Ms - I just can't take one and then leave it, I have to keep going.