I Draw At Work, Episode 3: Parrototter Otterparrot

This is #3 of 5 of those things I did for Annie T. and have yet to give her:



I have no idea why they're partying...it must have been someone's birthday. Usually when someone has a birthday there is cake, and when there is cake, it's always a party. Don't question me on this fact. ALWAYS.

I Need to Say This, Episode 1: Beyonce Knowles Writes Songs Like she has a Speech Impediment

The title pretty much says it. My buddy Garrett and I were talking about popular music like we do, and talk came to Beyonce's hot hit single "Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)". After talking about the crazy-ass dance (Garrett and I now shake around pointing at our ring fingers to EVERY song on the radio), we talked about her lyrics, and let me tell you, kids. No other songwriter right now is as repetetive as Mrs. Hova.

Observe some lyrics from the aforementioned song:

All the single ladies (All the single ladies)
All the single ladies (All the single ladies)
All the single ladies (All the single ladies)
All the single ladies

Another part:

Cuz if you liked it then you should have put a ring on it
If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it
Don’t be mad once you see that he want it
If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it
whoa oh ooh, oh oh ooh, oh oh ooh, oh oh oh
whoa oh ooh, oh oh ooh, oh oh ooh, oh oh oh

Now, I'm sure you're saying to yourself, "Oh, but that's just the hook. That song is pretty much just a hook over and over. Her other stuff ain't like that. Lindsey is straight trippin'." But NO! Here's some lyrics from "Crazy In Love":

Got me lookin' so crazy right now
Your love's got me lookin' so crazy right now (your love)
Got me lookin' so crazy right now
Your touch got me lookin so crazy right now (your touch)
Got me hoping you page me right now
Your kiss got me hoping you save me right now
Lookin' so crazy your love's got me lookin' got me lookin' so crazy in love

Jesus Christ. Got me effin' dizzy is what you've got me lookin' like right now. How about when she was writing shit for Destiny's Child?

I don't think you ready for this jelly
I don't think you ready for this jelly
I don't think you ready for this
Cause my body too bootylicious for ya babe
I don't think you ready for this jelly
I don't think you ready for this jelly
I don't think you ready for this
Cause my body too bootylicious for ya babe

OH MY GOD.

I'm not saying she's a horrible songwriter (though if I walked into rehearsal with a song like this the boys would think I was crazy), her shit is OFF DA HOOK, but girrrrrrl sho' do like her repeatin'. Sho' like, sho' like, sho' like her repeatin'-peatin'-peatin'.

Proof I am an Adult, Episode 2: Jim Beam Black, Don't Ever Go Away.

I really appreciate a good small bottle of Jim Beam Black. I then appreciate smuggling it into the Cubby Bear and drinking it with a friend. I then appreciate people documenting my behavior on the internet, which I immediately forward on to my mother, just so she knows how much of a good clean fun time I'm carefully having:



I then appreciate my mother sending me back an email saying I look vaguely like Jim Carrey (my hero since the age of 9). Mom knows all the right things to say.

My Weird-Ass Band and its Weird-Ass Everything, Episode 2: Bling-Blingin' Salinger Squid

Ryan left me to do a flyer all by myself. This happened:

I have this odd fascination with J.D. Salinger's head. I was going to make a comic strip at IU about him and it was just going to be his head hovering above me, telling me to do horrible things. Sadly, it never happened (but it could!), so I made him a squid that stays flashy 'til the day that he die. Word.

I'm more than sure that Salinger's up in heaven somewhere thinking to himself, wow. someone down there really loves me.

(Also I have this odd fascination with pretending that he's already dead.)

My Dad's a DJ, Episode 2: Let's get Retarded!

Here's my dad and some white guys with the member of the Black Eyed Peas (labeled):


There are many favorite parts in this one. Let me tell you them!

1. The three white guys look soooo scared. And you know what? They should be. The black-to-white ratio is 1 to 1 (and I'm counting that pasty Taboo as black, cuz...there should be at least a little in him.)

2. Will.i.am is touching my dad like they're father and son in a family photo. His touch is possessive, as if to say, "This is mine. Can you believe my sperms made this? Neither can I!"

3. Taboo is either giving us the A-OK or he is holding an invisible doobie. I'm gonna agree with the latter, cuz he's probably rich enough to afford invisible drugs (them's is pricey drugs).

4. Fergie-Ferg. Where are your breasts? And is that the same track outfit that you peed onstage in? Did you wash it before you put it on? Did Taboo give you some of his Invisibo-Pot? I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS AND YOU CAN'T ANSWER ANY OF THEM BECAUSE YOU ARE A PICTURE.

5. Just so the Apple guy (his name has the word 'apple' in it, I swear it does) doesn't feel left out, I'll say something about him: You're wearing too much denim and you look like a cowboy villian in the face. Have a nice day.

I Draw at Work, Episode 2: Octocat, or Cactopuss

2 of the 5 for Anneliese:

I am so in love with packing tape. Whenever a box comes from anywhere, I immediately leap upon it and ever-so-carefully peel the neon labels off. Co-workers look on, slightly confused, but also aware that something dangerously awesome is about to happen. This dangerously awesome thing is a Cactopuss.

Proof I am an Adult, Episode 1: Grabbing My Crotch

I would just like to state for the record that while typing that title, I saw a bright little silver dot on the computer screen that really wasn't there. Brain tumor?

Anyway.

Every month I like to send my family (the email list consists aunts, uncles, and of course my mother) a picture or two of me being exceptionally adult-like, just so they know that I am holding my own in the big city and upholding the family name in any and all ways I can.

This is the first one I sent them:

My Weird-Ass Band and its Weird-Ass Everything, Episode 1: Vagina Flyer

So I'm in a band called The Cell Phones. This band is maybe my favorite thing that has happened in Chicago. It's drums (Justin), bass (Ryan) and good ol' soul-singin' (me). We sound like murder. We've been together since January and since then have made 12 or so songs, 5 or 6 shows, and maybe $70. Look out, top 40! We're comin' atcha!

One of the coolest things about this band is that it not only sates my appitite for screaming into a microphone, but also my addiction to art projects, namely, making flyers for each show. Ryan and I are both extremely odd and perverted artists, much to both Justin's joy and disgust (he's a liar, he likes it all). When it was time to do a flyer for our second show, Ryan says to me, "I want a vagina talking on a cell phone," to which I quickly responded, "How about a woman talking to her vagina on a cell phone?" And when we were full of booze one night at my place, we started it.

We drew the picture like chess. He'd draw a cell phone, I'd draw the woman's blushed face, he'd draw the vagina, I'd draw her breasts, he'd say 'more boobs' and I'd say 'hells yeah', I'd say 'more hair' and he'd say '2 steps ahead of you'. In the end, we got this:

We also put this image in zip-lock bags with glitter and our demo (most people could not play the demos because they were covered in glitter). Justin saw it and told us he hated it, but he just wasn't very enthusiastic about hating it.

I showed it to everyone at my workplace, and it always took them a second or two before they realized what it really was.

My Dad's a DJ, Episode 1: Bringing Sexy Back

So my dad is a DJ in Denver. Every time he sees a celebrity, I am never with him (except that time he played softball with Meatloaf) and with the station he's working for now, it's more than usually someone whose music I hate.

This first one though is one I like:

This is my dad with Justin Timberlake. I know this because he has typed it in the right-hand corner of the picture.

With Justin's hand, which is as big as his face, he's pointing at my dad as if to say "This guy? This guy is the shit. I'm not kidding. Think I'm kidding? Do you see my boyish smile when I say this? No? Exactly. The shit, yo." My dad is slightly turned into Justin, big ol' smile on his face as if to say "HURRR I'M WITH JUBSTIN TIMBERLOCKS WHAT A HAPPY BOY AM I!"

Either that or he's totally copping a feel, his hand resting under the butt, close to Justin's taint, with only designer jeans and maybe underwear in-between...

Whoa, I just blacked out for a moment. Did I just type that? Shaaaame on me for even thinking that! Sorry, Dad.

I Draw at Work, Episode 1: Merowl, or Owlmaid

So when I'm sitting at my huge old receptionist's desk, I'm either doing legit work, blogging, reading my friends bloggings, fixing my tights, having cybersex, writing plays, calling places I owe money to, eating chocolate, or drawing.

Ever since I was in grade school, I've convinced anyone and everyone that I can't mentally function unless I'm able to both work and draw at the same time. I've since then perfected the shit out of this process. Every week I set down a piece of paper and make a series of to-do lists. As the day goes on, the to-do lists become weird-ass doodles covered in packing stickers, post-it notes stamp ink, and whatever else I can find. And no one can yell at me, cuz while I'm making the page more and more crazy, I'm also actually getting shit done! It's like maaaagic!

Anyway, my lovely chum Annie T. asked me to make her 5 doodles having to do with chimeral animals. Here's my fave out of the bunch:

Plenty more where that came from, lemme tell ya.

Hello, Blogging World!

My name is Lindsey Charles and it's time for something new, I think. That something is a blog. After 5 years of just blogging only about my faaaabulous life, it's time to...to do that less and somewhere else? Yeah!

This blog is for several fun things. I don't know what they all are yet, but you know what? We're gonna find out together!

Chow!

L.