Yes I’m Not Good at Drawing & No I Don’t Take Drugs

I felt that I needed to do something creative today. You know, for my spirit and well being and all that so I drew something on a spare plain gray shirt:

I like drawing doodles. I’m not good; my cousin recently mistook my drawing of a rocket-powered lemon to be rocket-powered sperm, (it’s a black and white drawing. eww.) but I’m not letting that stop me from polluting your interwebs with my “creativity”.

To those who didn’t get my drawing (I am told that it’s the same with a lot of my drawings) it’s a cinco de mayo candy that’s flying with piñata wings. Trust me it makes sense.

I used to paint things on my plain shirts using textile paint some years back. The only thing I had to draw now is a blue Pilot permanent marker, which I can be seen eating here (hey it’s near lunch and I was hungry, who cares if permanent marker ink is poisonous):

I had fun, and at the end of the day it all boils down to that and sense of achievement. I’m not saying I achieved anything by doing this, but I do have a shirt with my own drawing on it. Can everyone say that? Hey, hello? Pay attention to me, dammit! Pay attention to meeeeee

Note: This is a delayed posting for the Thrice Weekly Project. I couldn’t seem to finish a draft post to my liking. 🙂

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