If you’ve been reading here you already know that I’ve been in a weird spot lately and (as usual) the darkness in my head jumpstarts my Impulse Control Disorder which (in short) means my hands try to destroy me. So last night I had to give my hands something to distract themselves so I grabbed my sketchbook and decided to do a bunch of studies of the cats, but the cats were like “What are you doing? Why are you staring at us like that. Stop holding me down. You’re seriously creeping us out, crazy.” And they wouldn’t stay in one position long enough so I had to keep starting over again with their new poses, and then Victor looked over my shoulder and was like, “Um…are you okay?” because it looked like I was sketching pictures of dismembered cats. But then Ferris Mewler started cleaning his junk and then he sort of forgot he was cleaning himself, or maybe he was just comfortable but either way he finally stayed in position and glared at me long enough for me to complete a drawing.
I call it “God Grant Me the Immutable Self-Confidence of Cats.”
When I was done I showed it to Ferris.
He wasn’t impressed.
Nailed it.