Tag: food

Inside my Sketchbook: Terrifying Dali-Masked Male Ballerinas In Tutus

Want to see a performance that’s halfway between Cirque Du Soleil and the most fucked thing you’ve ever seen? Try La Verite!

It has all the Dali-masked ballerinas in tutus you could ever need. There are also people in giant rhino heads, enormous dandelions, trapeze artists, and a goddamn terrifying doll controlled by men in all black.

Lots of great nightmares to sketch.

Masks-On-Masks

Also on the drawing radar: the break room table. Sketching during lunch beats checking your email or Facebook (again).

Ugh, Facebook. I need a cleanse.

Break-Room-Doodles

In response to questions you probably didn’t have:

1. No, I’ve never had sriracha before yesterday. I get on board with everything too late.

2. The only exception to my Whole30 diet is one of Liz’s tiny cupcakes a week. She makes these itsy-bitsy, dainty cupcakes from scratch and brings them in every Friday. They are very special.

3. I absolutely make lists of the dogs I pet in the street. The giant brindled English bulldog was at the post office. The doofy, slightly-greasy pug was on the sidewalk by a tiny subterranean Korean restaurant.

4. The pens/inks used were Bent Nib Jinhao w/Japanese Beautyberry, Hero 9315 w/Visconti Bordeaux, a vintage Pelikano w/Pelikan turquoise, and a vintage Sheaffer w/Private Reserve Ebony Purple. I use a lot of vintage fountain pens because I keep snapping them up at thrifts, antiques shops, flea markets, etc. I clean them out and re-fill them with blunt-nib syringes. Here are a few on Instagram.

5. I really do have a friend named Jiggy. (She insists her Korean birth name is unpronounceable.) She sits next to me and eats the healthiest stuff imaginable so she can continue being (literally) the strongest woman I know.

Jiggy

I draw her lunches in the vain hope that some of that healthiness will rub off on me.

My fountain pens are basically tiny barbells, right?

… Right?

I haven’t killed anybody!

Up until two weeks ago, I ate mostly peanut butter sandwiches, Doritos, Reeces cups, and Diet Coke. My DNA strands were comprised of sugar and caffeine, held tenuously together by delicate strands of aspartame.

Woefully, the time has come to stop treating my body like a trash can. So I’ve cut back on sugar and processed foods.

Considering this total about-face, I’ve been surprisingly un-murderous.

I daresay saintly.

Saint-Leah

As of this posting, I have received neither medal nor monument.

My new diet looks like this:

Kebabs

When this thing inevitably flies off the rails, I am going to get ridiculous on something chocolate and melty.

What’s your guilty pleasure food? I need performers for my Circus of Terrible Ideas.

Are you leaving any children out this Halloween?

October is a time to buy a metric shit-ton of Reeces Peanut Butter Cups — then consume half of them before the kids even arrive.

The bowl we offer the kids is a chocolate explosion. No Whoppers, Nerds, or SweetTarts in sight. We’re the “good house” with the pricey candy.

I was always proud of our selection. I’d never considered kids with diabetes or other food allergies. Food allergies have jumped 50% since the 90s, and nobody knows why. That’s more and more kids that will never know the joy of just plunging a hand into the candy bowl without fear.

Teal Pumpkin Project

Enter the Teal Pumpkin Project!

To join, you just put a teal pumpkin out front, and have some non-candy on offer.

It’s not super-complicated.

That way, kids who can’t eat your Peanut Butter Cups can take a glow stick, pencil, or fake fangs. No trips to the emergency room!

Aaaaaaand… more Peanut Butter Cups left over for you.

Win-win.

 

BLAH. Someone give me a GOOD HORROR MOVIE.

Despite the fact that I’m blogging about the following media, they’re “nothing to write home about.”

MEH2

It Follows (horror movie, theaters).

Proposal: Cancel all Sex Education classes until the end of time. Show young people this instead.

Read More BLAH. Someone give me a GOOD HORROR MOVIE.

The Week in Media: We are not a classy people.

Godzilla

I’ve been using the phrase “surprisingly un-shitty!” to describe things lately.

Like Godzilla.

It’s a movie about a giant lizard that trashes stuff — but it had a positive review on Rotten Tomatoes.

Because it’s a surprisingly un-shitty movie. The characters aren’t completely boring. Tons of shit blows up. There’s fire. There’s the guy from Breaking Bad in a terrible wig yelling a bunch. There are (spoiler!) several kaiju to ogle on-screen. Godzilla himself is awesome.

Sure, you could wait to rent it, but it wouldn’t be as much fun. This is exactly the sort of empty, fun trash you should see in a theater with your friends.

Here’s another thing that’s surprisingly un-shitty: Penny Dreadful.

Penny-Dreadful-Smaller

The premise of this show is, “some moron is trying to revive the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.” You’ve got Dorian Grey, a sharpshooter, Victor Frankenstein, an oracle, a prostitute (again for Billie Piper), and a guy who’s pretty much Sean Connery exactly. Oh, and there’s a black guy in this photo. He’s the only minority, and he hasn’t said anything yet.

Suckfest, right?

Surprisingly not.

The monsters are cool. The relationship between the oracle (who can speak to basically-Sean-Connery’s dead children) and everyone else is interesting. There’s a crazy gay Egyptologist who keeps appearing. I love Billie Piper’s weird face and Dorian Grey’s ridiculous hair. The sex scenes are good. What else does anyone need?

Remember the first season of True Blood, when you were discovering all these interesting monsters/mythology and the characters weren’t boring yet? It’s kind of like that.

And now I’m going to Teach the Controversy: the Subway Flatizza™.

subway_flatizza_trans

I think this article in Jezebel was supposed to deter people. Of course, after reading it, I promptly decided I needed to experience a Flatizza™ for myself.

It’s a piece of the flatbread they use to make the flatbread subs. Then they dump some red sauce, mozzarella, and veggies on top; and toast it.

It’s good.

I don’t know what people’s problem is.

Stop being uppity, people. You’re eating pizza (excuse me: flatizza™) at Subway.

Look at your life. Look at your choices.

They landed you here, at this surprisingly un-shitty piece of bread and toppings.

Put it in your face and stop kvetching.

Nobody’s classy here. We’re a nation of Godzilla being the #1 movie (and Neighbors being #2), horror TV, and cheap affronts to Italian cuisine.

I wouldn’t live anywhere else.