Tag Archives: boys kissing

Happy Lucky V-Day

When I was in high school, I had a teacher who used to come in, click his heels in the air and grip the teacher-podium thingie while he grinned out at us with a big goofy grin. He’d say: I am so lucky to be standing here in front of you, doing a job I love. I am a lucky man.

Back then, I used to think, what the fuuu is he smoking and where can I get some?

Now I know… he was just high off life, because that’s exactly how I feel these days!

Nobody really knows what shit St. Valentine went through to become martyred... for all we know, he was covered in boils.

Lucky boy, because the better I feel, the nastier my pictures get. Nobody really knows what shit St. Valentine went through to become martyred… for all we know, he was covered in boils.St. Valentine + Boils

I miss those candy hearts that said things like 'fax me.'

I miss those candy hearts that said things like ‘fax me’ and ‘u sux.’

J says I’m obsessed with ‘Die Antwoord.’ And I am, because their chaotic songs are exactly how I feel right now:

I’m an upper!
(Dwankies get popped like a sucker.)
Baka, Baka! Yippe-kai-ayy motherfucker,
I’m a big deal, yo crazy money get thrown at me,
Now I’m having so much fun dat I can’t even go 2 sleep….
(Fatty boom boom)

Ok, so neither insane (nor mad nor wrathful) sums are getting thrown at me, but I’m having so much fun, I literally can’t go to sleep, like, I lie in bed thinking until five every morning yippe-kai-ayy motherfucker! I feel like I’m filled head to toe with magical guts and sparkles and if you make the slightest nick all of that sparklegut is going to fall right out…

Because my publisher is reading my book (right now even maybe? Even as I write these words?!? Making the decision if he wants to publish it or not, but whether or not, that takes me one step closer to getting it out there and that makes me feel like—)

My bf got out of jail today!!

If J ever goes to jail and he comes out, I greet him like thisssss...

If J ever goes to jail and he comes out, we say hello like thissssss…

But anyway, I am so pumped and psyched I cannot sleep, because my publisher is reading my book, because my boils are looking grosser than anyone else’s and because J and I and Nazgul are flying to Thailand next week and… and… and…

Ok, I need to calm down. ~___~ Just wanted to wish y’all a happy V-day, whatever that means for you personally, be it Happy Valentine’s–or if you’re someone who’s like fuck Valentine’s Day, long and fuck it hard, I wish you… a Happy Vagina, Happy Vas Deferens–Happy Victory Day!

Yay cuddling, yay!!

Happy Vector Day. I hope you spend it with someone nice.

<3 <3 <3

Is Lincoln to Blame?

Da-yum, when is someone going to pay me 1,000,000 bucks to sit on the beach, get high and draw hentai? …..Not yet?

I wish I could blame this picture on an early morning visit from Lincoln, but no, this time, I’ll take full responsibility! For every tail! For all cat ears!!

Image

Boys with Tails II

A friend asked for a picture. I was skeptical…

“I don’t do ‘finished’ stuff, you know this right?”

He said not finished was fine.

If possible, the drawing was to contain the following elements:
-him
-another boy of equal or greater physical attractiveness
-them engaged in some way … (hopefully, an erotic way, not an I’m pouring you a glass of lemonade way)

I was like… ‘Hmm. Doesn’t sound like anything I’ve ever done before, but I’ll give it a whirl :D”

Tails! Cat ears! Ruffled underpants! Tentacles… I threw those in gratis.

I drew another nice pic this weekend but alas, as nice as it is, it is not appropriate for WP ><

In other mews: We were in Berlin to visit the new addition to the family. I guess ::grumbles:: she was kind of cute. Not sure if she’s a Nazgul though, time will have to tell. Like with our baby, maybe we’ll start hearing of bodies lying in the streets of Berlin like empty husks… Ahh, we’ll whisper then knowingly. Another little Nazgul after all.

In other other mews: Starting some new anime series as soon as I’m done with this post. And I’m going to try to draw…. curly hair. 0_0. I don’t do curly hair, it scares me (to draw, that is, it’s fine on someone’s head) but a certain picture requires it…. Anyway, I’m rambling.

Hope you guys had a wonderful Easter ^^

The Secret Life of Translators II

'One step too late and I never told you...
That I can't take another disappointment...."
Boys <3

[PS: In my next show, I want this. -see picture above-]

I realize I have not written anything on my poor blog for more than a good week now.

Where are you?! A few people have asked. I guess they figure something must be horribly wrong if I don’t have anything to say : D But I don’t, sadly. I want to write you moofs a blog entry full of sex and violence, but my life right now is so fucking boring >< And I am a little down…

One thing to be up about though is that this season for shows is done and I get two new shows. A fresh start! New beginnings! Regeneration! Spring is here!

What shows am I babbling about? Anime, that is to say, Japanese animated shows–we’ve been translating two of them and both have certainly been contributors to my down spirit…

Oh I don’t know… The first show had a wonderful style and characterizations and a really hot main character, just his name was so nice and long, I liked to type it in my Notepad file… ‘Miketsukami’…. prettyyyyy. Miketsukami was a blond, dog-spirited youth with… many tails. 0_0 (You know my tails thing by now, dear reader, surely?!)

So! This show had a pretty guy with a pretty name and and pretty bushy dog tails and interesting side characters and good style in general. But Nothing Ever Happened. Literally. The main plot of the show could have been resolved in about two episodes–the rest of the time, I was translating a 30 minute episode in which the main conflict (no joke) was how does the main female character ask the main male character out to drink a coffee with her?

I waited desperately for scenes in which the male character is at least semi nude, but they added up to about 20 seconds in an entire series >___< Not much to keep me hanging on, let me tell you.

But the other show was even worse. This show began in my mind as ‘Zero’ and later devolved into ‘Louise the Whore’, but not because nothing was happening. Oh no, something happening every other second. Magic! Dragons! Airships! Elves! Hot Young Pope! Hot Young Pope Gets Eaten By Dragon! (Yep. You read that right… ) Boobies! Boobies! Boobies! Ahh, the boobies should have been the tipoff that ‘Zero’ was a member of that fine genre of anime I absolutely detest. I don’t know what the genre is actually called (It is a common trope, so I’m sure it has a formal name) but I myself call it ‘Too many boobs on the dance floor.”

The gist of the genre is this: You have a young guy. He is usually pretty ordinary, but also pretty decent and for whatever reason, has fallen into an extraordinary world (or somehow into a situation outside of his normal circumstance at least) where he is surrounded by beautiful women. They all have ridiculously large, Demi MooreStriptease-era bazooms that bounce like wet balloons at a child’s party. (Side-note: Often, the main female character will have smaller breasts, and this will make for her complex for the entire show.)

This hapless, but ultimately well-meaning young man is thrown into this new environment complete with Sea of Boobs and while he is defeating the Evil or whatever the Fuck, he is always running into these boobs, or tripping and falling on top of one of the girls, getting his face deliciously mashed into her Boobmeat etc. etc. (Did I mention our clueless hero is totally accident prone?) The girls then beat the shit out of him and call him a pervert, but they are in fact all hopelessly in love with him and are all trying to devise a way to confess their feelings (but by the end of the show, he will get together with the small breasted heroine who has won his heart with her fucking annoying high pitched voice.)

This is the genre “Too Many Boobs on the Dance Floor” and if I were King, I would have it banned. It was invented by an evil Cabal of ordinary Japanese men who wish they could trip through their life, knocking their ordinary but well meaning selves into boobs and  having a coven of babes fight over them while they finally pass their high-school exams or defeat the evil dragon (whatever the tedious noise in the background passing as ‘story’ happens to be.)

Boys, take it from me: Never Going to Fucking Happen.

The part where the Pope got eaten was definitely worth a rewind though….

When I Feel Really Sad…. I (Fill in the Blank)

Aunt Flo! Fuck you!

(Or god, please hear my prayers and finally make me a boy so I don’t have to bleed DOWN THERE anymore. I would be such a good boy. Really. I would.)

For the last three days now, I’ve been looking for a bus to throw my stupid ass under. And then finally one day (was it yesterday?) just as I was thinking… man, is there a rock stuck in my shoe again?! I realized… Oh yeah! You know that thing… that’s been happening to you once a month (no, no, not that thing, with the lights off and the soap in the sock and the crying)… the blood! Your womanhood! You know, your dear Aunt Flo! Well, she is visiting you again.

And I thought… damn, can I just turn the porch light off, for this month? Can we have no visitors? No Flo? No red pinata? Except if there was no flo, it would mean I was knocked up.
Again!
Fuck!
Another baby Nazgul!
The coupon is definitely 1 (one!) Nazgul per household, so fine, fine! If you’re twisting my arm–

[Guys: Oh god, here goes another chick revved up about her period.]

Trust me, gentlemen, I want to get revved down. But every month, it’s like I remember fresh anew what bullshit a period is. Santa Claus? Big Foot? Jesus? I can’t give you any guarantees, people, but PMS IS REAL. Have you ever wondered, men, what you’d feel like if you looked down one morning and saw blood coming out of your dick? Your dearest John Thomas, your Percy, your 11 inch mahogany wang with the unicorn hair core  bleeding like a pig?! Alomora!!

[Harry Potter for: I can't speak for all womens, but that red shit makes me angry.] First, I get angry, but not meh, who took my stapler, guys, it’s not funny anger, this is serious psychobilly headbutt people until brains come out  Unforgivable Curses anger. Then I get sad.

And once I get sad there’s only a limited amount of things I can do.
1. Play with the baby Nazgul.
2. Write J an IM even though he’s in the room next to me and our doors are open and flirt with him on chat. /-hi sexi. I am thinking about ur tittays they r so neat what r u wearing? lol/
3. Strong, black, nomilk, nosugar COFFEEEEEEE.
4. Curl into the fetal position.
5. Last but finally not least, draw a picture of –

Wheee!

And then the world feels better again.

What’s your ritual, moofies? ^-^

PS: I’d like to issue a formal, worldwidewebwide apology to W for being so cranky at our last session. It was not anything apocalyptic. It was just PMS.

The Secret Life of Translators

Or: My Time. Has Finally Come.

I’ve paid my dues, people.

Over the years, I’ve translated some REALLY shitty movies. Imagine the worst movie you’ve ever seen and then take away all plot, all budgeting, all special effects, all artistic DIGNITY–now add a questionably attractive Japanese girl with ill-concealed acne scars and bad razor burn in her Bermuda area, exposed by her scanty latex bikini… Enter the dastardly villain (probably the best boy grip, shoved into a cardboard outfit–they cannot afford another actor). …She’s spent the first half of the movie throwing ill-choreographed punches in a seedy parking lot and now the villain’s going to show her where it’s at. This is the obligatory Torture Scene. The scene ALWAYS starts with Mr Clean Citrus Scented Cleaner, poured liberally over her tied up body, while the baddie cackles about how it’s a horrible other-worldly substance that will now cause her enormous pain–the girl screams, but won’t reveal whatever info. it is that he seeks. So he has no choice. He must untie her, throw her on the ground and spend the next five minutes grinding  his boot into her vulnerable, soft stomach. In the sound-booth, someone abuses the ‘tomatoes getting squished’ button without remorse, and the girl screams and screams.

(Close-up of boot getting ground into stomach.)
//squish, squish, squish//
-Tell me the code.
-Never will I betray my friends…. AGHGHGHGHGHGHG IT HURTS!!!
//squish, squish, squish//

Me, as I translate: Fuck. What IS this garbage? Who watches this?

I try to imagine the intended audience for a 100 min. straight-to-DVD film of this nature, but not even the lowest strata of unwashed otaku moldering in their gloomy, spunk-encrusted Lolicon-dungeons could possibly be interested in such crap. That’s how bad it is.

Move on to question two: Am I getting PAID enough to  do this? And… well. Yeah. So I trudge on. But yet I dream, that one day, I will get an assignment that speaks to ME. …And after a year and a half of softsoft-core, ninja girl shenanigans, pro-female wrestlers and shameless Power Ranger knock-offs, it does get a bit better.

No more live action, I move into anime series–little girls breaking into the world of acting–little girls selling newspaper and being cute–little girls donning princess tiaras and kicking ass for the Lord. And I LIKE little girls, I mean, they’re fun and all, still, not entirely my thing. But a translator-for-hire asks no questions. Like a spy working in an isolated cell, she receives her assignment handed down from way across the ocean, from a shadowy figure known to her only as—-

“Brady”.

But we’ve just wrapped up a series (little girls/princesses). A new season begins and I wonder, with a little trepidation, what story I will now be following for a 52 episode duration… It could be about professional golf, it could be about little girls and their grade-school dramas, but no, not this time, because God is smiling on me–I know now that he exists and is just and good because my newest show will be about….

...BOYS KISSING!

Wee!

(With a publishing house as a back-drop, no less!)
But I think after all this time… I’ve earned it >:P

In other news, today was my last session with W until (–) is born… =( I will miss going over there and chatting about art and drinking coffee–but we will have a chance to resume once I’ve recovered a bit… In the meantime, if you haven’t had a chance to see his drawings yet, here you go (this time, they are definitely big… =)