"three billy goats, gruff".
triple the battle-beast madness.
i have more frames sitting empty,
so i have to keep making these guys to fill 'em.
you know you want 'em, ya'll.
4x6",& (2) 3x3"; pen & ink on paper, matted and framed.
it's for sale. no reasonable offer refused....
buy art. it makes your life better.
the big billy goat. as in, gruff. as in, trip-trappin' on bridges.
probably in madison county. y'know?
i'm not sure why the little pansy flowers are blowing around.
probably because otherwise the barbarian manliness would be overwhelming....
goats drink their own pee, i've seen it....
the middle billy goat. he has an eating problem, as evidenced by the girth of his midsection.
barrel fever, son, but explicitly limited to the barrel chest.
he takes time to smell the flowers, because they smell delicious.
he's rockin' wings, too. everything looks better with wings.
it's like the streusel of the illustration world.
our last little buddy, the baby billy. he's got shorts on, and he chose the wrench.
flowers, wings, horns, lightning. a trio of temperature-testing torch-tops, spitting.....
hot fire. c'mon.
what else?
in other, equally exciting news:
fifty-six years of mr. T.
you had better be celebrating.
otherwise, i pity the fool who hates cupcakes on b.a. baracus' birthday.
clubber lang like a muthaflippin' mohawk!
nice.
'd.c. cab' and 'rocky III', i'm tellin' ya'll, tonight is the night.
A-Team represent!
show some love for mr. laurence tureaud.
it's Wotan's day again.
the ever-lovin' quest for wisdom.
make like a viking, or a billy goat, and take on the trolls wherever you find them....
pity those fools, ya'll.
never quiet, never soft.
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