still at it.

i draw on my face.
you knew that already.
you've even seen a lot of it, right here-.
but,
since the last time,
there's been a whole bunch more of that sort of thing.
yeah.
too much is the right amount,
and bobotronic scribbles are the perfect way to start each day.
also,
they don't hurt as a winding-down exercise after tattblasting
some solid turdskids all over some turdtards all day long.
don't get me wrong.
i like what i do, sorta.
i just wish it was more of what i wanted to do more often,
and less of my own insane sense of determined movie-check generating
obligation and begrudging undertakings.
hahahha.
i do all the worst tattoo ideas in the studio,
because i love piles of money more than i hate hours of conversational abyss
and creative gulags with dispicable dis(p)interested people.
awwwwww.
no.
it's cool, neighbors.
instead,
i make my face look worse, every day.
check the teleport:













































yeah, yeah, yeah.
i know.
i repeat myself .
it's a kind of rhetoric,
and it instills a sense of memorability to this digital memorabilia.
yeah.
my days are a blur of forgettable and regrettable ruminations, machinations,
and ruination;
but my mornings are pure magic.
i'm using one finger to improve my day,
and it isn't even my middle one;
never quiet, never soft.....