Species: Human.
Habitat: In front of computer screen.
Behavior: Nocturnal.
Nourishment: Pringles, exclusively.

What a rush. I've produced two paintings in two days (three deviations, though, because of my walk through), and I've never felt better. Not only has my four-month-long artistic slump finally collapsed but my sagging portfolio grade is about to receive some much needed nursing.

A minor obstacle has presented itself in the form of an AP Practice test AND an essay (seriously, I think Becevic finds this funny) but I overcame it by ignoring it. That isn't completely true, I did the multiple choice part of the test and two of the essays and I'll do the third one in study hall tomorrow. My stem cell research essay, however... let's just hope she forgets to collect them, shall we?

Anyway, the issue of AP English being ameliorated, I have arrived at a much larger problem; a potential catastrophe. Not only am I out of tuna, but my washing machine is broken and my rat's cage needs cleaning.

Now, some may say that those issues, although gargantuan, are unrelated. That, however, is how we separate the informed from the uninformed, the MEN from the BOYS, if you will.

Cleaning the rat's cage is a smelly task and requires immediate cleansing of anything that was within a two-mile radius of the cage at the time. Generally that consists of a shower and a load of laundry. However, the washing machine is broken, so I don't want to do that just yet.

Now, I've actually gone two weeks without doing the laundry (because I can) so I'm now running out of clothes (the Sears people have until Thursday to fix this problem, because at that point I run out of underwear), which means I can't go to the marketplace where a lot of people I know work. Which brings me to my next point.

Tuna. We're out of tuna. You don't understand. TUNA. NO MORE TUNA. Do you understand how many different kind of foods can be made from tuna? I do. I need me tuna. We ran out yesterday and since then I have been feeding on Pringles. I have four different flavours in the house, my current Pringle of choice being Sour Cream & Onion, which everyone loves but won't admit.

Now all of this sounds like a digression, but it actually gets me back to my original point.

I think Pringles are magic. Perhaps it's the shape. But something about them gives me this driving need to draw. They're boat shaped. They're also bonnet shaped. Anything that you can turn a Pringle into is worth drawing. I'm serious.

If you draw a man made of Pringles, I'll guarentee you at least one .

Not from me, of course, I'd look ridiculous with something like that on my favourites list.

Bah.

-Em