It's that time of the year folks. That glorious time when I start doing the sketch a day thing, proclaim that this time I will most definitely not crap out after a week, and then promise horrible self flagellation if I do.
Failure is only a matter of time (I have prepared special nunchucks to grievously injure myself with) but for now, REJOICE! FOR THERE ARE SKETCHES! STRAIGHT FROM THE SKETCH CARNIVAL. What is the sketch carnival you ask? Why, it is that linkie on the right. Right there. No, not that one. The one that says 'sketch carnival' on it. Sheesh.
There are sketches there. My sources assure me that soon, my comrades will rise from the grave and resume their sketching with their cold dead fingers. The glory of the sketch carnival will return, slightly dustier and smelling of mothballs, but still quite sketchy.
A building that may be boat-like if you squint, or are afflicted by the horrible disease known as boatitis. It's a terribly nautical affliction.
A lesson learned about the dangers of eating soup on your drawing desk. A delicious lesson.
The space police. You know that guy is cool because he has a tiny mohawk, a gun, and he is smoking inside his helmet (how he lit that cigarette is beyond me, but when you're that cool, things probably just catch fire on their own all the time).