Monster makes it happen.

For quite some time now, I've been locked in a semi-permanent AM Session; those blocks of days that I try to negate as much sleep as possible to obtain more time to work on my projects. When I describe these sessions to the few unfortunate humans who mistakenly attempt to converse with me in meatspace, I usually get looks of disapproval. And occasionally disgust. Okay, almost always disgust.

But I pay no concerns for the impressions of you silly humans and your wacky concerns for self-preservation! I have shit to do and being in a voluntary unconscious state impedes on my abilities to get said shit done.

While still stupid and arguably insane, these sessions are especially great for when I find myself quickly approaching a deadline. Such was the case with my current project - the previously-posted-about Bump in the Night piece that I had to finish drawing and produce a physical printed copy by this upcoming Sunday. 

The scenario in which I was working on this image was pretty much the same scenario I find myself in during any of my AM Sessions: sobbing hysterically, strapped to my drawing table, my tablet pen embedded in my hand, and blitzed out of my mind on cough syrup, mouth wash, and Pez. Out of respect for your greater senses, I won't describe the scene in vivid detail. Let's just say "simmering in my own juices" would not be entirely inaccurate.

Unable to control my shaking hands and terrible blood-vomit and fearing I wouldn't get the image done in time, I found myself overwhelmed by a sensation closely resembling "e-moh-shun". I did what I always do in moments of weakness such as this - I turned to my life-long companion, a knee-high blue monster that hangs out at my drawing table. Appropriately named "Monster".

"Monster!" I lamented, "I am a fool! My completely illogical and nutrition-lacking diet, combined with the deprivation of rest has left me with and incurable and ultimately and fatal case of scurvy! LISTERINE SCURVY!

"I feel my life-force slipping away! Swear to me, swear upon your noble monster honor that when death becomes me, you will not let my friends and family take my stuff!  Nay, assemble a great and glorious pyre and burn my belongings in front of them out of spite!

"Gasp and cough! It is time for me to depart the living realm! My only regret is that I didn't get that cursed Frankenstein picture done in time!"

But I didn't die, I passed out. I awoke the following morning in a common manner - in the alley behind my apartment with clown make-up, flesh, and party confetti stuck in my teeth. Groggy and disoriented (I'm not a morning person), I stumbled back to my apartment to find this greeting me:

Monster is The Man. Monster makes shit happen. Monster gets shit done.

I have five copies right now. One going for the commission, the other four for...whatever. Sorry folks, but I can't justify another Letterbomb session for just one print; so for those of you who regularly receive my mailings, it's going to have to wait until I have some more shit to send out with it. Which will hopefully be sooner rather than later.

For score's sake: four pieces down, two more to go.