Why I never became a cartoonist

I thought about a lot things while under the influence.  But not drawing.  In fact, I found it a chore even when sober, for years.  When I was little I wanted to start my own comics company — with me writing the stories & someone else drawing.

Closest I got was some crude character concept sketches I came up with that sucked.  Last idea on that I had before switching to music was a comic about this super-powered all-female gang (I tell you because I’m not gonna do shit with it, feel free to use it if you’re that desperate for ideas).  The overarching plot was gonna be that they started out just doing crimes seperately then discovered each other and cliqued up, started doing shit like hit jobs, high-stakes robberies & reaking general havoc.  Occasionally though they’d run across people that were worse than them — some w/ powers, some without.

As a result of that idea, I had a lot of sketches of leather-clad Amazonian/rap-video-model-esque women packing ridiculous guns or shooting lightning from their hands.  Of course, I sucked at drawing, so they always seemed like they were in the same pose.

Closest I ever came to drawing under the influence was unintentional sleep-deprivation pics.  I drew two pictures one night: a tentacled monster w/ warts all over that looked like the heads of people in my 9th grade art class, and a generic thug whose gun came to life and was about to blow his brains out.

Props.

Advertisements

About b-psycho

Left-libertarian blogger & occasional musician.
This entry was posted in meaningless nonsense. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s