Smoke gets in your eyes.

Drawn at a small concert some months ago, coloured on my computer a few days ago, this is a (belated) dirge for indoor, public smoking in Seattle. The show's venue was an indoor courtyard in what felt like a cross between a public theatre and somebody's house which just happened to be tucked between two bars and a couple doors down from a tattoo parlour. The club had no sign, no bar, and allowed customers to bring their own booze to the party. Smoking was also allowed inside. Scandalous, I know.

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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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