ALL THOSE MATCHBOOK COVERS WERE RIGHT! I CAN DRAW! SORT OF!

My first real work of aht might not be the transgressive monsterpiece that the bastards at the Times might have expected, but it's not like I have a ton of experience with the brush. In fact, the last time I wielded a paintbrush in anger was in my teens inthe Muskokas, and it was in the middle of a gravel driveway over the face of one of my brother's unconscious friends. I had great power and desire to do evil, but I too was intoxicated, and it was close to 4:00 in the morning, and it being out in the middle of nowhere there was only the moon for light, and so I made up his face to look like Gerry Cheevers' goalie mask. This sounds bad, but I was doing it in watercolor and we were beside a lake, and so after the walk of shame in the morning and a quick swim, he only had the gravel-pattern on his face and whatever hangover he had to remind him of the fun he'd had the night before.

So, in that light, I present unto you Nude Sitting Still At The Red Lobster, courtesy of Mister Picassohead.