This Cat Has No Name -- Door No. 2

Loosely, a character I've been toying with for ages. Yet to be fully developed, opposite is a chick with no name A pulp antihero. A traveling philosopher. A self affirming, walking existential crisis. Yes, she is the rarely seen and even less often acknowledged out-of-work assassin, free and on her own cognicence. With such a character, what amoral hijinks might ensue?

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I put it to you:

What is wrong with moustaches? Eh?

For Every Problem, a Solution (4)

God as depicted throughout the ages. No Alanis Morissette, and, no, that isn't ironic.

My room is a mess, my painting unfinished.

...and I still haven't found a good alternative to my scanner with its missing power-cord. Almost finished with this painting, though. I just need to put in a bus seat in front of and behind the passenger. Incidentally, the Seattle Metro buses have the ugliest upholstery I can remember seeing, and I spent five years working at a used furniture store.

Pointless Man

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