Let's start with the woman here, who looks like a hobbit. I mean that in the nicest possible way. She was short, and her massive coat made her look even shorter. She was reading some sort of book, which I'll guess was a novel, because it didn't look like a cookbook or a bible. She got along quite well with the dad of the kid on the second page. The thin, cropped guy here was boring, and too boring at that for me to remember even an hour after I had drawn him, much less two days. If you want people to remember you, folks, make an effort to at least look interesting.
Oh, hey, interesting people. Clock-wise from the top-right, there's the toddler, the hipster, the porn star, and the skinny pierced girl. We'll start with the kid. He had an actual story. Coming in with his mom and dad, he was gifted with a hot cocoa. THere must have been separate orders, or else the parents were ordering one of those ungodly complicated Italian coffee concoctions, because the dad was stuck sitting at the table with this kid, sucking away at his cocoa, waiting for his drink. Eventually, the dad asked if he could have some of his kid's cocoa. Answer: vigorous head shake. There are comments from the hobbit lady, during which the mom comes back with brown liquid caffeines for all, and utters the words on the page. Then they leave. I think, though, that that saying should be on a fortune cookie. In bed. The hipster is in fact a guy, but he had awesome, awesome hair. He and that kid could have given Justin Beiber a run for his money in a Hair-Off. That kid's hair was like a helmet. The porn star and the pierced girl, who I'll note now was of Indian descent, were at a table together, and I'll assume they were going out. It doesn't matter to me, but the point is that other than the kid, who was interesting by virtue of being maybe five and adorable for the time being, all of these people put a little effort into their appearance.
Confession will start now with the fact I was feeling under the weather on Sunday. I still biked out to the Mudhouse though. Wild Horses with laser guns on their head breathing lava couldn't stop me. This is my excuse, however, for slacking off on the first two drawing on this page. The blonde on top wasn't really that heavily made up, or that small compared to her hair, and the scruffy fellow is just sloppy, I'll admit. He had that "just woke up to another day in Queens" look that I tried to capture and then gave up on. Determined not to end the day on a sour note, I took it upon myself to do a really good job on his dame on the bottom there. They were playing some sort of custom card game, involving two decks and considerable strategy. She kept bending forward and getting her hair in the way of my pen.
Let's start with the woman here, who looks like a hobbit. I mean that in the nicest possible way. She was short, and her massive coat made her look even shorter. She was reading some sort of book, which I'll guess was a novel, because it didn't look like a cookbook or a bible. She got along quite well with the dad of the kid on the second page. The thin, cropped guy here was boring, and too boring at that for me to remember even an hour after I had drawn him, much less two days. If you want people to remember you, folks, make an effort to at least look interesting.
Oh, hey, interesting people. Clock-wise from the top-right, there's the toddler, the hipster, the porn star, and the skinny pierced girl. We'll start with the kid. He had an actual story. Coming in with his mom and dad, he was gifted with a hot cocoa. THere must have been separate orders, or else the parents were ordering one of those ungodly complicated Italian coffee concoctions, because the dad was stuck sitting at the table with this kid, sucking away at his cocoa, waiting for his drink. Eventually, the dad asked if he could have some of his kid's cocoa. Answer: vigorous head shake. There are comments from the hobbit lady, during which the mom comes back with brown liquid caffeines for all, and utters the words on the page. Then they leave. I think, though, that that saying should be on a fortune cookie. In bed. The hipster is in fact a guy, but he had awesome, awesome hair. He and that kid could have given Justin Beiber a run for his money in a Hair-Off. That kid's hair was like a helmet. The porn star and the pierced girl, who I'll note now was of Indian descent, were at a table together, and I'll assume they were going out. It doesn't matter to me, but the point is that other than the kid, who was interesting by virtue of being maybe five and adorable for the time being, all of these people put a little effort into their appearance.
Confession will start now with the fact I was feeling under the weather on Sunday. I still biked out to the Mudhouse though. Wild Horses with laser guns on their head breathing lava couldn't stop me. This is my excuse, however, for slacking off on the first two drawing on this page. The blonde on top wasn't really that heavily made up, or that small compared to her hair, and the scruffy fellow is just sloppy, I'll admit. He had that "just woke up to another day in Queens" look that I tried to capture and then gave up on. Determined not to end the day on a sour note, I took it upon myself to do a really good job on his dame on the bottom there. They were playing some sort of custom card game, involving two decks and considerable strategy. She kept bending forward and getting her hair in the way of my pen.
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