Hearts and Funny Papers

Despite noble efforts I am usually awake throughout the night. This being factual, I am frequently provoked into falling asleep against my consent during the day. This afternoon, after having awakened from one of these attacks, I discovered very passively that I was rather dispassionate. To be sure, I opened my rib door to assess the curious feeling, and Ah-Ha! - my heart was missing. “This accounts for the feeling, I am certain,” I said to no one in particular. So I arose, procured myself a cup of coffee, and searched the house for my elusive heart. Finding my cat examining a lampshade I asked if he had seen it, to which he replied he had not and further added I should be more responsible in retaining any organs I may possess so as not to have frightfully bizarre and bloody things running around the house, which he said was most distressing. At last, I found my skittish necessity in the library reading the funny papers, and, pretending he didn’t notice me, continued to do so as I stepped in. I could tell he was in a very foul mood, so I sat in the chair opposite and considered possible ways to begin a conversation with a bitter heart who was trying to ignore me. I did not have to think long, for at this point the fellow impatiently spoke up. I shall not record every word he threw at me, nor the impolite phrases – I shall just say that he was very displeased with me. Apparently, and I cringe at the irony of typing this above my previous post, he was exceedingly dissatisfied, and “horrified” with my diet. He suggested I think over the concept of moderation, and consider more innocuous selections for nourishment – or else, he threatened, he would bleed excessively on my books, making them quite stained and considerably unsettling to read. I quickly apologized for my behaviour, and agreed to manage my diet more responsibly.

It's Alive

With little reserve I confess an undying adoration for breakfast cereals of unnecessarily lofty sugar content and endorsed by interesting cartoon characters. This fondness met its acme of delight when introduced to Smurfberry Crunch, which was discontinued the decade before last for reasons I am certain will not be sufficient for understanding, nor forgiveness. However, this night I was given a realization upon the identity of another beloved comfort of childhood, one that I believed had met its death with a host of its persona grata so very many years ago - the indescribably astounding treat of glee-inducing smiley face oat bits and circus shaped marshmallows of a texture only Heaven could have suggested, Kaboom. Kaboom! What fondant thoughts of blissful saccharinity this name instills! How many Saturday mornings it managed to brighten, adding even more to the mirth that was awakened by the glorious cartoons that made that morning so very singular. Yes, Kaboom is quite alive, and the spooky clown mascot, though a trifle less spooky at present, is still as pleased as ever to not be dead.


















If inflection was provoked by the condensing of merriment into little, grinning toasted oat somethings, that inflection may very well be, "Kaboom."

Salt Water Taffy and Swordfish

The single most curious thing about salt water taffy is that it is one of the most delightful confections that has ever been presented, and is produced and packaged solely by a family of swordfish off an eerily green coast of the Atlantic. I have recently seen the aquatic facility in which they accomplish this – its identity betrayed by a series of pied smokestacks rising from the depths several miles from the coast billowing emissions in all manner of the spectrum, a vision quite worth a photograph, but at the time my collodion equipment had not yet arrived so I was left only to rely upon memory - and was so impressed with the ingenuity and ambition of the fish, that I decided to accept the suggestion of a very dear friend that I should instigate a record presenting selections on literary and illustrative endeavours, as well as the progression of experimentations currently, and soon to be currently, in proposition. Another suggestion offered me concerning the initial grounds of such record, was made by another acquaintance who tends to charm with fake blood and prosthetics – it was her notion that an appropriate way to begin a series of accounts, or even a lengthy novel or indiscernible stage-play, would be by introduction. So, with admiration for her macabre inclination and wit, I shall do as the King of Hearts so concurred, and “begin at the beginning.”
I am an authour and illustrator attempting establishment and currently spend a great deal of time listening to the beautifully melodious monster lps so prominent years past, complete with mad scientist laughter, witch cacklings, cat growlings, wolf howlings, dramatic representations of considerably undesirable circumstances, and an endless supply of Peter Lorre impersonations. I am quite a decent sort, and not at all uncommon or strange, despite my preference for severely stormy nights opposed to severely sunny days. I have been illustrating for a number of years and have acquired several wonderful friendships of kindred spirit through freelancing as such. Recently, I have completed the illustrations of a quaint scary-tale written by a good friend and authour that is presently going through its post production phase comprised of unlimited unforeseen bunglings and possibilities. As well as several freelancing projects currently in production, I am working feverishly upon some of my own writings and pray they may see fruition in the near future. Being that I am so recent to this culture of blogging, I apologize for any presentations of mistakes that I may offer that would have been less likely had I been more familiar with the nature of it – I assume that in time, I shall become more accustomed to the custom, as was the situation when I first learned of sneezing, and I hope to further my understanding by attempting to be as frequent as I can in posting these records.