Icky Icky

Frog

A frog, by my cousin chaya!

Anime

This little obsession was all Anya's fault. I swear. It has nothing to do with me! Okay, fine. Maybe it does have something to do with me. But just a little. I drew these about two years back, so forgive the somewhat...stunted style.





Vash, from Trigun. Honestly, everyone should read that manga. It's something something something; a mix between the wild west and star wars. It's one of those psychologically screwed up comics, with a healthy dash of blood and gore. Thoroughly enjoyable.



























This was initially supposed to be a character sketch of Cain. The manga, by Kaori Yuki (the same woman who did Angel Sanctuary, for those of you who care), is as messed up as anyone could imagine. As you may tell, i tend to enjoy psychologically screwed, thriller-type...stuff.














A character sketch for a comic i was supposed to develop with a friend. Nothing came of it, though. Such a shame...

12am

Tis a pig! I think...















Mother Nature, perhaps? God knows...


















I will not take any credit for this pic...it's actually Himansu's. He hasn't put it on his blog, though, so i thought i would...and yes, i know it looks nothing like me! Oh well.



















Joblessness abounds at 12am :)

The God of Carrots

Disintegrate

One of those days...

Kaleidoscope

In our darkest hours

Nostalgia

I discovered my f4 almanac within the depths of an ancient cardboard box last night and couldn't help feeling incredibly old. I mean, this was three years ago. I hadn't even taken my OLs, and now...I'll be leaving behind the monotony of school life forever. Kinda depressing, actually. Anyway. I thought i'd share some extremely random things (no wonder we're considered the 'reject class'!!) with the rest of the world. Bear in mind that they are, as i have already mentioned, extremely random. Revel in our randomness! MWahahahhaaaa...
…………



Tammy's hand!! 100%BS :P
Try figure out what it says. I can't, and I have the original!
And people tell me I think too much...


















Rasha's logic. Don't even ask.








..................

The amazing (mis)adventures of Stickman™ continue!!


After his last tiresome adventure, Stickman™ decides to venture towards greener pastures by educating himself in the art of nasal decoration. His faithful pet, Stick-bat™, roosts peacefully from the brim of his hat in a desperate attempt to keep away from the light. For, as Stick-bat™ discovered, little illumination can irritate one whose eyes are closed. Stickman™, who is still pining after Stickgirl™, somersaults gracelessly over a stampede of wild Uranium Stickchickens™ (famed for laying platinum eggs) and lands SPLAT in a mud puddle. Stickman™ bursts in to tears. Feeling sympathetic, a chicken makes its way towards him and…craps on his toe. Stickman™ squeals with disgust and Stick-bat™ is woken from his dream about flying maggots. Sniffling in surprised drowsiness, Stick-bat™, unaware of his surroundings, lets go of Stickman™’s hat and plummets earthwards, landing headfirst in a pile of chicken deposits. Slightly miffed, Stick-bat™ gazes Stickman™ with an expression of puzzled devotion. Stickman™, on the other hand, is not puzzled. On the contrary he is pretty pissed off. He yells. He screams. He wrings the neck of the offending stickchicken and is brained by a blizzard of 2lb platinum eggs.

Dripping gray matter and cerebrospinal fluid, Stickman™ staggers off
and collapses on a nearby…pile of manure. He shakes his sticky little fist at the sky and curses the heavens, daring the deities to make his life even more miserable than it already is. That’s when Stickgirl™ saunters by, her BATA™ flip flops a-flipping and a-flopping on the pavement. She sees Stickman™ sitting in a pile of manure and utters a loud and degrading “GROSS!!” before clamping her nose shut. Stickman™ colours and is just about to explain when a large ORANGE CRATE™ (filled with oranges) falls from the sky and flattens him. Manure flies in all directions, and a generous portion lands on Stickgirl™’s new dress. She wails in anguish, and with one last pitiful moan, turns on her heel and flees, only to be intercepted by…

…StickBulldog™, who, lathering at the mouth (he swallowed a can of shaving cream), lunged for Stickgirl™’s slender throat. Stickgirl™ let out a supersonic wail and sprinted for the nearest tree. StickBulldog™ galloped after her, baying as he went. Stickgirl™ reached the nearest tree. Alas! It was a 20ft coconut tree!

“Daymn!” yelled Stickgirl™, stamping her BATA™ slippered feet. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Stickman™ appeared. Bespattered in the excreta of various species, Stickman™ lunged at StickBulldog™. StickBulldog™ paused in mid-bark. He took one sniff at the aura surrounding Stickman™, turned tail and ran like heck across the street. Stickgirl™ turned to face stickman.
“Is that a new cologne?” she asks, ‘cuz it stinks like shit!”

Stickman coughs to hide his unease and mumbles something about heavenly punishments. Stickgirl™ finds herself in an awkward situation. Just because it’s polite to kiss the stick-chap who saved your life, it doesn’t mean it’s very pleasant. Anyway, like an answer to her prayers, an ORANGE CRATE™ falls from the sky and flattens him. AGAIN! Stickgirl™ this as an opportunity to flee, and races as far as possible from her putrid-smelling admirer. Just then, when Stickman™ wonders if things can’t get any worse a thunderstorm breaks out and its starts to rain…

The rain falls down on Stickman™, washing away excess orange pulp. Suddenly Stickman™ realizes that the rain is washing away all the colours in Sticktown. Stickriver is awash with a multitude of hues and three stickpeople bathing in it come out indigo, blue and cyclamen. Stickman™, on the other hand, is preserved from the redistribution of pigments and remains his original colour. Peeping out from the depths of the ORANGE CRATE™, Stickman™ gets a splash on magenta on his nose. Stickgirl™ is now nowhere to be seen. Registering this obvious fact, Stickman™ pauses. Then he bursts into tears. Stick-bat™ squeaks sympathetically. Sitting down on the ORANGE CRATE™, Stickman™ ponders his next move.
Just then, Johnny Depp saunters by, and who, being a super-hunky superstar has also been spared of the overall redistribution of pigments (Stickman™ is spared only because he is the tragic hero of this tale). Anyway, chance has it that Stickgirl™, just returning from the public showers and also preserved of re-colouration, spots Johnny Depp from 150miles away. She squeals and runs after him, and upon interception is asked for her hand in marriage. She, being a devoted fan of the character, accepts. Unfortunately this whole scenario takes place in front of Stickman™, who, upon the exit of the happy couple, rips off his big toe and chucks it into the river. He curses God before proceeding to the nearest cliff. Yes, suicide is clearly the best option.

Stickman™ stares down the crevice, hot, salty tears pouring down his sticky little cheeks. He takes a deep breath in preparation to jump and curses heaven one last time before…a large ORANGE CRATE™ falls on his head. Stickman™, who had not really the guts to commit sera puku, screams as he is shoved off the cliff. He plummets a squajibillion feet before he is blinded by a sudden flash of light….

And Angelina Jolie appears. Lara Croft (aka – Anj Jolie) causes Stickman™ to levitate three feet above a rocky precipice (cross Lara croft with Harry Potter and see what you get). Stickman™ dangles unconscious, so close but so far from his doom. But then Lara Croft gets hit in the face by a southward bearing wind, carrying Stickman™’s unique perfume of eau de orange et shit (the thing is, no matter how bad a guy looks and how crap his personality is, a bad smell is definite grounds for dumping him). Angelina Jolie does just that. Stickman™ hurtles towards his doom at terminal velocity. Luckily today is, as has been said, not your average day in sticktown. It is the day of the annual stickmattress carnival, where stickmattresses of every shape, size and density converge down in stick-gorge for their annual celebration of the unique nature of their species. Fortunately where Stickman™ is about to fall to his death is the site of the164th weight competition, where the heaviest, softest but fluffiest mattresses gather to judge their own greatness. Yeah, but then they all see Stickman™ hurtling downwards and move out of the way as they dislike blocking the path of continuity.
The background music becomes sad and sorrowful as Stickman™’s mangled corpse is squished by the heavy mattress of the year. The ORANGE CRATE™ descends, slowly, but with a sad air of fatefulness, and drops for one last time (in this episode at least), landing upon Stickman™’s shattered cranium.

HOWEVER WE OVERLOOKED THE SMALL PRINT IN THE CONTRACT(stickman™ is immortal) SO DESPAIR NOT, FAIR READERS, AND WAIT IN ANTICIPATION FOR THE NEXT EPISODE OF STICKMAN™!!!!!
.........

The logic of a 14-year old...

1. The sudden death of the Tellitubbies has not been solved due to the fact that most people hate Tellitubbies.

2.J'adore les jellybabies

3.'Chemistry' is just another way of teaching kids chemical warfare.

4.Coffee drinking makes you legally high.

5.HaNdWrItInG Analysis is AlL BALONEY

6. You are made of endorphins. When you grow they get erased.

7.As you get older your sense of gravity opposition weakens. You sag.

.....

I...can't think of anything else to say....

Life

My life in a nutshell.

Beast

Doodle

Yes, i know i shold be studying, but i can't resist a doodle now and again. God knows what the heck it is... Vine lady? The unincredible bush? Boob tree? We can only assume so much...

Pandemonium

Aah, Vijay. Who could forget this brown-nosing assistant librarian? With his good looks and boyish charm, he's always the centre of attention. This attention may be mostly negative, but that is of no concern to us.

Himmy and i really went to town with this :D
True, my almanac's rating has suddenly shot up to "R", but one cannot deny that if you squint really really really hard, this could actually look like Vijay! Pardon the fact that this caricature is 'anatomically correct' (is it though?)

We really need to find something more constructive to do with our free time...







The God of Carrots! I must say, DW looks smashing!
(DW, Tammy and I)


















Sketch of a model from a random magazine. Speaking of mags, doesn't it piss you off that all of them consist of 95% ads, 3% editor's notes, and an additional 2% of articles addressing issues that nobody cares about!?
Yes, i know that this woman looks disfigured. So sue me.









Aah, my baby. Our piece for the art exhibtion- a 6ft box. All sorts of paint - acrylic, watercolours, wallpaint - on plywood. We discovered too late that the wood absorbed most of the paint, making the scenes seem dull. Sighs. Damn our cheap-ass school to hell. Himansu and i really did a lot better than i anticipated. GO, TEAM!
(Special thanks to everyone else who helped, too!! Rarararara ; Zainab; Lakmini...etc)








Mucked around with Himmy's 'Transformation of the Parasite'. Sorta looks like it's on fire...
















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A Levels began on the 15th of May...i'm going insane. So far i've messed up History unit3, and Bio W1. Joy!
Also, I am moulting.
NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Was really flattered when Charlotte pointed out that someone (Dilsiri, right?) liked my art enough to put it up on his blog. God, i love you. You are the cream in my cream bun, the mango on my mango tree, the issa on my isso vade, the -

Ookk....and here i am descending into mental freakoutedness. I'd better sign off before it spreads.

Until next time,
Farewell.

Monotony

                  

I did this in response to the start of a new school term sometime last year.

Chaos

Singing mushrooms!

True to my Form 4 almanac, circa 2003.

...

There was a pink velvet hippopotamus called Rupert. One day he was sitting on a log and thinking about life. He sneezed violently and a wad of fairy dust flew out of his nose. Suddenly the air was filled with the sound of Singing Mushrooms™ . They sang and danced around the log in red and yellow polka dotted skirts. They sang:

"Rupert Boyle, Rupert Boyle, he freed us from the dreaded mosquito coil, Rupert Boyle..."

Rupert was amazed, and even a litte jealous. He had never in his life been the proud owner of a red and yellow polka dotted skirt. His rage consumed his being, and he, opening his mouth wide, ingested them entirely, destroying an entire civilisation of mushroom thingeys.

Suddenly his stomach began to rumble, the seams of his velvet skin broke under the pressure and...the Singing Mushrooms™ erupted out of his stomach.
The Singing Mushrooms™ saw nothing but hatred, and, taking out tiny little weapons of mass destruction, blew the pink, velvet hippopotamus up into smithereens. Bits of blood and flesh flew around the clearing, staining the little mushroom's skirts bright blue. His polystyrene innards cascaded out. They reacted with ions surrounding the mushrooms and depolymerised to form poly 1,2 diethene. A sweet scent erupted from Rupert's bloodied carcass. The Singing Mushrooms™ narrowed their eyes. The fragrant fragrance that transpired into their surroundings, reminding them of Mushroomland™ in the springtime, could only mean one thing. This was the work of an ester!

"Come out!" called mushroom#1.

"Not on your life, buster!" bawled chief mushroom#2. "Poly 1,2 diethene is a deadly toxin! I don't want to die, but...ARRRGH!"

M2 was dead (so was M1). The other mushrooms cowered into the voluminous-ness of their skirts. Tears poured from their tiny liddle eyes. Their leaders were denatured. They were a stateless, leaderless species. What was to become of them?

"What is to become of us?" they wailed.

Then, from the violet tinged clouds came the answer to the questionability of their fate....

"YOU WILL DERIVE THE KINETIC THEORY OF MATTER!" boomed a loud voice from the sky.

"We will what?" asked mushroom#3, whilst the rest of them quivered in fear.

"YOU WILL DERIVE THE KINETIC THEORY OF MATTER!"

"WOW," gasped mushroom#4. "A talking cloud!"

Just then it started to rain. It came down in buckets, flooding the clearing to such an extent that Bangladesh looked dry in comparison. The Singing Mushrooms™ panicked, for, if exposed to excessive amounts of H2O, they would turn into varying different species of plants and animals, ranging from polpala to uranium stickchickens™ . They had not, however, forgotten about the violet tinged cloud, trailing its cool misty fingers through the forests ferny floor.

"Aah," said mushroom#27, an expert on biochemistry. "It appears that our purple saviour is slowly (but surely) respiring anaerobically to depolymerise to form varying compounds of which the main components present are H2O and sodium stearate!"

And surely enough, little soap bubble formed in midair, bursting to release a gentle fragrance that would have put Givenchy™ out of business.

"FOOLS!!" thundered the voice.

The little mushrooms (now differing species of plants and animals) jumped; those with poor balance landed on their heads and died. Then, as the fog thinned, the Singing Mushrooms™ spied the graceful, majestic figure of....

(To be continued)