I am a bad blogger. Bad.
I've been scrambling for freelance work and I've finally hit my stride, so that's good.
Now, blog:
Ruby was playing dress up today with... a crutch.
She was putting on scarves, underwear and old baby clothes on this crutch.
Here's her monologue: "Yes, don't worry Mrs. Jones... our clothes will cover your boobies AND your vagina. Our clothes are very good."
Also:
I am working on an animated short, starring none other than our good friend the Nude Fat Man Eating Cookie Dough. A commercial producer friend of mine forwarded Mr. Nude's entry on to an animator, and he's a fan. So we developed a six minute script, and it looks like it's happening.
Which terrifies me. I don't know why. But it does.
Now, blog:
Ruby was playing dress up today with... a crutch.
She was putting on scarves, underwear and old baby clothes on this crutch.
Here's her monologue: "Yes, don't worry Mrs. Jones... our clothes will cover your boobies AND your vagina. Our clothes are very good."
Also:
I am working on an animated short, starring none other than our good friend the Nude Fat Man Eating Cookie Dough. A commercial producer friend of mine forwarded Mr. Nude's entry on to an animator, and he's a fan. So we developed a six minute script, and it looks like it's happening.
Which terrifies me. I don't know why. But it does.
Labels: My Idiotic Job, The Moppets, Weltschmerz