Time Off

As soon as I opened the back door of the house, Your Sister presented me with a bottle of Rogue Dead Guy Ale. It's for the ritual wings dinner. It's 38 ounces of Guaranteed Tipsy. Once the wings hit the table, I popped open the bottle, clinked it against her water bottle, and toasted her with "let the awkward advances commence!" Your Sis is a good gal.

I'm not even looking at the script. F' the script. I worked on the magnet yesterday, and I decided to forgo the usual illustration and just work with the reference photos. Frankly, I don't have the initiative to devise a swank design. I'm burned out.

I'm shopping for Mom through Amazon, and I think I know how to distract her from a depressing Christmas at home and occupy her holiday time with a stack of throwback DVDs.

Picture of the Day
Angelnaught.