Have a Banana

Just screwing around with the new version of Procreate and Apple’s hilariously priced iPad stylus.

 
GCI-1
 
Bananas are just the best, you know?

 

Bene scribete.

Advertisements

October: Start!

Well, look at that; it’s already October.  And you know what that means – it’s the eighth month of the year!

–I mean, tenth month of the year (dang it, Latin!)!

It also means that it’s officially O.K. to start decorating for Halloween, and that’s a good thing.  And it’s time to start thinking about a costume for all those parties you’re sure to attend.

Like this one, here:

 

formalsuit

 

This…formal suit?  Hold on, I think I’m missing something here…  No, that’s–that’s all it says.  Formal suit. Is that just a…no, includes mask.  All right, yeah, good.  Got to have the mask.

You know, the featureless blackout mask that people are always wearing with tuxedos.

Wait.

Wait.  Maybe I’m not missing something, but – what’s the opposite of missing – finding?  No. Overincluding?  Extracluding?  Yeah, maybe I’m extracluding something.  Is the suit not the costume, but the costume is the suit?

Are you not dressing up as a fancy person wearing a suit, but as the suit itself?

…wh–what?

O.K.  All right, Halloween, you’ve–you’ve, um…yeah.  O.K.

 

Bene scribete.

The Dastardly Pumpkin

Hope everyone’s having a great Halloween! Here’s a story.

Writin' Fish

The Evil Pumpkin

There was once a pumpkin – an evil pumpkin.  It was so evil that, when passing it by, people would say, “Hey, look at that pumpkin, Jim; I bet it’s evil.  Rotten to the core.”

(Everyone who passed by it did so with a man – or, in one case, a woman – named Jim.)

The spider approaches

One day, a spider approached the pumpkin.  Apparently, it was an unreasonably enormous spider.

“Pardon me, Mr. Pumpkin,” the spider began, all politeness, “but I wonder if you might tell me why it is that you are such a dastardly fellow.  Do you resent that holes were carved into your face?  Or perhaps that your innards were torn away to make a pie?”

The pumpkin did not respond, for it was a pumpkin, and pumpkins cannot speak in the slightest.

(“Then why can the spider talk?” I hear you asking, but I shan’t be answering…

View original post 382 more words

Window Crasher

Ghost?

 

As we sit a week from Halloween, I’d like to take this opportunity to present this particular decoration for a moment of discriminating consideration.

A clever enough concept at the outset, I’m sure, but unfortunately marred in being constructed, or at least depicted, as a Halloween ghost decoration by a manufacturer who decided to make a Halloween ghost decoration while completely missing the whole basic premise of a Halloween ghost.

It takes a special kind of talent, you know?

 

Bene vīvite.

The Dastardly Pumpkin

The Evil Pumpkin

There was once a pumpkin – an evil pumpkin.  It was so evil that, when passing it by, people would say, “Hey, look at that pumpkin, Jim; I bet it’s evil.  Rotten to the core.”

(Everyone who passed by it did so with a man – or, in one case, a woman – named Jim.)

 

The spider approaches

One day, a spider approached the pumpkin.  Apparently, it was an unreasonably enormous spider.

“Pardon me, Mr. Pumpkin,” the spider began, all politeness, “but I wonder if you might tell me why it is that you are such a dastardly fellow.  Do you resent that holes were carved into your face?  Or perhaps that your innards were torn away to make a pie?”

The pumpkin did not respond, for it was a pumpkin, and pumpkins cannot speak in the slightest.

(“Then why can the spider talk?” I hear you asking, but I shan’t be answering such silly questions.)

After a time, the spider said, “Oh, I see how it is.  You are not evil – simply rude,” and left the mannerless squash behind.

 

The mouse approaches

A day or two later, the pumpkin was paid a visit by a little mouse (that grey blob is a mouse – I promise).

“I bet you’re not so evil,” the mouse burbled in its squeaky little voice.  “I bet you’re just lonely, sitting here on your porch all day without anyone to keep you company.”

So the mouse curled up next to the pumpkin and remained with it all day (what a sweet little mouse).

Until, that is, a cat crept forth and snatched him up.

 

The cat approaches

“Thank you once again, Sir Pumpkin,” the cat purred around the mouse’s tail as he dangled from her jaw, crying for help.

The pumpkin might have shed a tear, were that something a pumpkin was wont to do, but alas, it could not move an inch to save its new friend.

The cat lay down before the pumpkin and ate what she would of her catch, then set his remains within the pumpkin’s jagged mouth.  “Were it not for you, I shouldn’t get away with nearly so much.”

 

Poor pumpkin

In the final hour of Halloween, when all the children had gone home and the streets were empty, the pumpkin so vile it would eat its only friend sat alone on its porch, beneath a doorbell unrung and candy untouched.

“But I am not evil…” the pumpkin finally murmured aloud, making a proper liar of me, but not a soul was around to hear it.

And it was absolutely right – for, you see, pumpkins, as it turns out, are secretly fruits, which on the whole tend to be much more magnanimous than their strictly vegetable brethren.  Unless, of course, we’re speaking of durians, which are little if not sin and corruption condensed into fruit form.

Cats, on the other hand, usually are evil, but I think that’s why we as a society appreciate them.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is: don’t be so quick to blame inanimate plant matter for acts of malice when there’s a cat in the vicinity.  What are you, a crazy person?

 

Have a happy Halloween, everyone.

 

Bene scribete.