For the Lil' Cuss

My nine-year-old nephew has been staying with me because, his mother (my sister) is on some prepackaged vacation cruise somewhere. Anyway the lil' cuss, which is what I call him said he wanted a tattoo of an Arab woman with a bird's nest for a mouth. After doing some psychedelics and putting the lil' cuss to bed, I stayed up all night drawing this, he is excited about it. I have a tattoo artist friend of mine coming over this weekend to ink it up on the lil' cuss, his mother will love it, and if not, well I guess/hope this is the last time I have to babysit.

Excuse me, it has been a while.

So, my no-call no-show stint resulted in me being terminated, laid off, or technically fired...whatever you would like to call it, point being I don't have a job now. Luckily, I have a few options which I would like to list and evaluate the pros and cons.

1. Get another job. This is the most respectable and responsible thing to do, but it will once again force me to spend my days doing something I will not like, most likely being surrounded by people I do not like.
2. Apply for unemployment, disability, welfare, foodstamps, etc. I just like to call it "Free Money," I dont really understand or care to learn about the differences between all the types of "Free Money," I can get.
3. Try to get a prescription for medical marijuana and sell whatever I don't use myself to high school students and my artist friends. (this can be combined with option #2, but that would be a lot of responsibility and paper work to do both at once.
4. Start taking nude polaroids of myself and selling them on eBay, once again. I haven't done this since my late teens, but it paid my way through the first two years of school at a community college I do not put on resumes.

Post up.

Spread the word, copy and paste hoodrat hoodrat hoochie mamas.

<br /><br /><a href = "http://www.vickyblah.blogspot.com"> <img src = "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYqdQfbC25ElL9SUu4wsVEGnxVXeDit_WIBfcI_hS9DpWhmtZHbF4Lf8PDW5DFqUYKyizcaSGsLA24aXerlS3pwkkFoLfWiXKz8c5mgpEy6W3aZt_65W3GE6VQyJIeQ65y5TWMmn8Vl3mk/s200/vickylink.gif" /> </a><br /><br />

Take it to the floor

I have been chasing shots of Jack Daniels with Lime Perrier and listening to mashed-up remixes of 80's dance songs with contemporary underground hip-hop this entire week. I called in sick to work on Tuesday and haven't showed up since. I feel that the "No-call, No-show," is by far the best and most liberating way to take time off. My boss keeps calling every day, which I am taking as a good sign that I am still employed. Once the calls stop I will show up the day after with a horrible story, something about being in the hospital or losing my phone in a drunken stupor, depending on the reaction of my co-workers upon my arrival.

I think it is good to pair things up, enjoy my photo mash-up.

Composite of Royalty.

Last night an ex-lover came over, we did some mescaline and I drew this.

Plural but Possessive

Listen, I hate children just as much as every intellectual my age should. They smell, they complain, they rant, and then they cry about something stupid like what you wont buy them, plus who really wants to be born into this world at a time like this? I mean seriously, there is hardly any good art or music being made now, it is hard to imagine that there will be anything even decent by the time they are able to fully appreciate it.
I am particularly down on children this week because I now have a running nose due to my obligatory trip to the suburbs to visit my sisters and their children. That's right, my sisters' children, meaning more that one sister and more than one child for those of you who are too dull to understand and love plural possessives as much as I do. So, upon arriving to my sister's house (note: my sisters do not live together, thus my visit was to just one home of my sisters' homes. Yes, this is a lesson on the magic of plural possessives and how much fun they are.)
Back to this B.S. with my running nose and children, So I show up around 4:30 p.m. I was supposed to be there at 1:00, but I didn't want to eat early dinner with them because I can't stand to watch children eat, grabbing at everything with their grubby little fingers and pouring juice all over the place, on top of that I do not eat the processed garbage from some commercial Wal-Mart affiliated neighborhood grocery store they shop at and proudly display their savings card on their S.U.V.'s key chain. Please, so what you saved 30 cents? I am saving the environment by eating only organic fair trade products.
So, I showed up, sat on a couch or something, got blank stares, got in trouble for offering my three-year-old nephew coffee, and had to answer like a dozen stupid questions about my recent two month long trip to Berlin. "No, I did not go to the Berlin wall," was the first stupid I got. "I spent most of my time in basement dance clubs drinking absinthe with a performance artists and teenage sex workers." That is cutting edge, that is why I went to Berlin, not because it has some old wall.