"And that, dear listeners, is the weather."
Carlos yawns into the inside off his lab coat, ignoring the scratch of the new and untried fibers, how the shoulders pull and the cloth itches in the most inconvenient of places. It takes at least a week to break in new lab coats and until they are suitably soft and perfect. What is now called 'The Great Seismic Pie explosion of Night Vale' left his lab coat choices scarce. The kitchen remains off limits to Adelaide and ingredients such as 'tremble truffle' and 'flour you probably shouldn't use'. No one believes her explanation of 'science' and Carlos doubts they will again. Once a person has a glo
They meet for the first time in the town meeting though Carlos doesn't much notice him until he's pointed out. He's not caught the radio show before that first night and isn't prone to caring even if the radio turns to a voice, one he later knows as The Voice as if the ordinary looking man is a thing of legend.
He hasn't the look of a legend and is in fact the sort one would not notice in a crowd, especially not in the throngs of Nightvale. Carlos is distracted by the old woman with a face more wrinkles than features and friends that loom behind her made up of the vastness of space and eyes bright as a star. The eyes are all over their bodie
Twenty-something editor-in-training who takes a disgusting amount of pleasure from ripping apart peoples badly written essays, short stories, and novels. A good review is rare.
Enjoys drawing, writing, reading, and pita chips.
5 on the Kinsey scale. Liberal on GLBTQ rights.
Currently re-writing some short fairy tales for the thrill of it and an Avatar fanfic.
Does editing for money. Feel free to ask.
Current Residence: Florida Favourite genre of music: rock of various levels Favourite style of art: Pencil, ink, digital MP3 player of choice: iPod Shuffle Wallpaper of choice: Don't be stupid. Do your work. Favourite cartoon character: Momo from Tramps Like us/Kimi wa Petto! Personal Quote: Who cares? Bitches have WAISTS now
Favourite Visual Artist
Stranger Than Fiction
Tools of the Trade
Pencils, cardstock/bristol,wacom Intuos3
Writing, drawing, lesbians, lovers, hookah and color
Princess Abigail IX, RIP. You lived from March 11, 1997 until September 6, 2008. You were spoiled, a bit overweight, and well loved. You shed too much and ate our sandwhiches when we looked the other way. You chased my cat until she popped you in the face.
You would lie on me and shove your head against peoples chests in order to get their attention, flip their arms up with your nose, and hesitantly lick noses in order to be more like the late, beautiful Tipper and the still alive Sadie.
In your death, you left an empty bed, a beagle/cocker spaniel mix, a calico archnemises, a mother and two sisters. We miss you very much.
I love you, Abby
First of all, that really says everything I could. If you don't like Muppet Babies, Ahro or Myself, don't click it.
CRICKEY! ITS AN AHRO!
Our view for most of the trip.
She... she wasn't very happy with me.
But WHOOOEEEE! Was HE Hot.
Megacon is in March (7-9) and we (Maya-chan and I) are getting an artist table. With the artist table, you can sell home-made anime goods. So we are. This is the list of shit we are making and then another list of shit we need.
Ink/Color- Mizzen/Ship, Snape/Lilly, Ayana and Sword, Rapier Dressed up, Kian/Towel, Kameko
Color- Fae picture, Goblin, Shui Long, Kian Hoodie Picture
Make Prints of- All of the above, Alek!kid stage, kian!halloween, Cleo framed picture, Jolais.
Alter the t-shirts
Printing (cost of printing, etc)
More beads (