Never turn up pissed to a poetry reading!

Saint John the Baptist did, and spent the whole recital of "Messiah, Shmessiah" swatting away hallucinatory letters. Not to mention that he was holding the book in his foot.

Bishop Frithstan's vestments c.916.

How...appropriate - an upload allowance of "15 chickens".

This is Klar and her huge, em, "monstar" cock.

I'm really ,really sorry.

Peter the Deacon rockets to heaven and takes his meticulously wrought shopping list with him. Look out for those acanthus leaves though, Pete!

St Cuthberts Stole c.916. And boy, is he cold without it!

"...you wanna go where everybody knows your name."
OR
Last drinks at the Shangri La Au-Go-Go, and that guy is STILL hanging around.

Venerable St Bede takes a moment out of his hectic schedule to illuminate a letter to his mother.

(Moore Manuscript, Bede's Ecclesiastical History (Northumbrian Episcopal Antics, nonetheless!). 12c. version of the Life and Miracles of St Cuthbert.)

This is truly what I want to be remembered for.

Alphonse, the dog of sorrow, sits in La Cafe Gloom miserably swirling the last bitter dregs of his latte, wondering where his hot date - the bluebird of happiness - is.

For an article about Anthropomorphic comics...
Should get the reject letter any day now...

Like sands through the hourglass,
these are the clicks of my mouse.

The Shangri La Au-Go-Go attracts all sorts.

This character apparently belongs to Aheria's boyfriend.

Never, ever wear a beret, unless you really, really mean it.

An accidental illustration for Grimal.

This is a reiteration of an illustration that shit me so much that I had to redraw it. Normally I wouldn't bother.

I used the skankiest linework and the laziest coloring effects, and it came out surprisingly Disney.

Go figger.

Some challenges are too cutesy-woo too pass up.
For Poseidon-Simons.

Limelight plays to his last audience at the Shangri-La Au-Go-Go. Not much later, he drunkenly shows the crowd what you really can do with a tongue twice your own body length.

Look it's a bird.
It's a plane.
No - I was right the first time.

This is Limelight the chameleon.

That's, like, a joke. Y'know - chameleons blend... and being in the limelight is...

Ferget it.

Rorschach is an inkblot cat,
he'll know your neuroses in one minute flat.

Whatever.

Like any self respecting anthropomorphic animal, I'd be concerned about what you were really thinking about, as well.

Something that no one coulda guessed.

I may be happy, but my sense o' humour could do with a tune up.

So happy, I could just bounce.

It's that happy, toe-wriggling, early morning yawning, piss-fat stiffy sensation.