imagine me and you, and you and me

101Dalmatians_004Pikturz, originally uploaded by Pikturz.

I want to talk briefly about the absurd crush I have on Roger Radcliffe from Disney's 1961 version of One Hundred and One Dalmatians. He has many fine qualities, but I think the potent combination of being British, wearing sweater vests, having an all-consuming endearing obsession (music), and having a prominent nose is just the concoction that does me in. Supporting factors are his gangly 60s animated styling and the fact that he scowls in consternation more than once (these last bits are not exclusive to Roger in the pantheon of male Disney characters from the 1960s and 70s, but I think they are displayed most appealingly here). Also, pipe.

Maybe this is an unavoidable sequela from having been spoon-fed so many Disney movies as a child (like any true scion of America), although I can't explain why I would have gravitated so strongly towards the ones set in England. To elaborate: I have far less lasting fondness for Prince Eric, Aladdin, or Belle's Beast, despite owning all three films on VHS from an early age, and thus having watched them upwards of 10 times each, to give a conservative estimate. Those films served more to inculcate Disney's Template of Feminine Wiles in me than anything else - though it's fair to point out that the main protagonist in at least The Little Mermaid and Beauty & The Beast is the female character, so it only follows. Still, I feel nothing for Aladdin, compared with a wistful starry-eyed softness for Robin of Robin Hood (1973), who is not even a human being, and a similar feeling for Arthur/"Wart" from The Sword in the Stone (1963).

I don't really have a point to wrap this up, I'm just saying... Roger has some nice shoes (and socks), and a pipe. And floppy hair.

i slept for days and dreamed

I slept for about 12 hours yesterday. This was accomplished by coming home, crawling into bed wearing everything I wore to work minus shoes, and passing the fuck out.

L1008306, originally uploaded by Pierre Wayser.

Do you know how awesome that is? I had so many bizarro dreams, you guys. So many. There were gorillas that terrorized a high school and some other stuff I ain't even recall. You should have been there.

Anyway, the unfortunate thing is that this allowed me to avoid doing some tasks I need to get to (like making a really unpleasant phone call, and answering some questions for my etsy shop) but I mean... kind of worth it. I'm in a pep today at work. A pep!

Abashed Comics

I found these old MS Paint specimens in my gmail archives the other day when looking for other documents I might have emailed to myself. Context: at the time, I was working as a temp at my alma mater university, in one of the least stellar performances as an employee I have ever given. During my time there I also crafted an elaborate friend chart with small pictorial caricatures of my main squeeze pals, gave life to countless blingee gifs, and discussed the details of my intimate life in hushed tones with my coworkers in the tech support cave. Those were the only positives, though.

Abashed Comics #1:Abashed Comics #2

I can't believe I only did two of these!

seasonal affective

Winter is the season when I crave period costume dramas with a fiendish intensity.

On alternate years, springtime is when I obsessively idealize the perfect wedding or else try to visit arboretums and public gardens. And maybe plot communal gardens with friends, if we get ambitious (2008).

In the summer I try not to die of heat and constantly want to be canoeing and/or creek-hopping.

Fall: everything apples and squash.

a thing like that!

Look, I know this is dumb. It's really dumb. I've been feeling a little over-excited today ever since I discovered that my favorite casual internet author of derived literary tribute fiction [read: fan fiction, yeah yeah I know but I did warn you] posted a story she'd started working on way back in 2004 [i.e. the actual era of my real dedication to fan fiction/desperation/incredible loserdom] and I read it and made some embarrassing noises. I'm dumb. Okay.

Anyway, what I wanted to say is that I kind of wish John Allison and Kate Beaton would get together and make delightful and ridiculous comic-producing babies. I'm not trying to push, here! And the fact that they are even friends is great (or at least, so I deduce from various tandem sketchwork scans posted on both blogs from time to time), and I ain't even tryna insinuate nothin'. I'm just saying. I have this tendency to want people to make out, is all.

Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a maathghrtjfj