Sunday, September 26, 2010
Moving on up...
Dave
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Dirty Nuns by Holly Walker
Picking flowers from a garden bed
and strewing them about, hair astray.
When she looked at me with eyes of red
the “sister” stood and grinned wickedly,
In that moment I thought for sure I was dead.
She began to pursue me quickly
Running, even in her habit
Reaching, as if to take me downwardly
a prize for the devil, to live an eternity in Satan’s pit
but luck, or divine intervention
caused her to fall, chomping at the bit
I ran without stopping, glowing with elation
at escaping a fate worse than a knuckle rap
I evaded her without hesitation
conscious that I could still fall into a trap
For I knew that a dirty nun
was five times more nasty than a clean one
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Monday, August 2, 2010
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
Friday, July 23, 2010
July Drink and Draw
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
Friday, July 2, 2010
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Drink and Draw
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Pterodactyls vs. Babies by Joel Griffen
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Pterodactyls vs. Babies by Holly Walker
Five pink babies lie in wait
The sky will rain red
Pterodactyls vs. Babies by DJ Bardin
Diaper full, the run is long.
Over his shoulder the shadow of death begins his dive!
With the facial expression of anime drawn by an artist on a 12 RedBull high, he leaps for cover behind a rock.
Reaching for his bottle to quench his thirst he realizes the horror every baby fears.
The cylindrical holder, keeper of the breast nectar, has cracked on impact and is now dryer than a new Huggies.
Suddenly… directly overhead the enemy strikes!!
It’s talon barley misses his golden yellow Gerber curl.
How did I get here?
Last I remember I was laid in front of the TV watching land before time 62.
Now a Pterodactyl has decided I am to be his lunch!
That’s when it hits him.
This is a dream.
I will face my enemy and awaken to a warm bottle and the soft sound of my mommy singing to me.
He stands just as the Pterodactyl strikes again.
But this is not a dream.
Gripped by the head the baby is carried off.
And just before he is completely out of sight.
His neck is snapped like a twig.
And the baby Pterodactyl’s eat as there mommy sings them a song