Tiny Girly Guard

I’m only just now getting the hang of writing 2005 instead of 2004.

I’m working a security job, which means I spend twelve hours a night playing with my pencils in an empty building in Eastern Passage. If I only had a laptop, I would be the world’s most productive moonlighter.

I’m currently negotiating what could end up being a fairly large freelance project — and it’s coming with the promise of distribution in impressive-looking numbers like “50,000”. I get excited enough seeing 100 reproductions of something I’ve done. If I have to pick up 50,000 at the print shop, I may end up trying to wallpaper my apartment with them!

In other exciting news, I recently got my first photo-of-a-dead-fetus piece of hate mail. Now, my site isn’t often into promoting innocent baby slaughter, so I can only assume she found me via the Pro-Choice Action Network, who recieve a lot of these sorts of letters (I can’t read very far down that page because steam starts coming out of my ears and I get all twitchy). Hey, Moon Flower? Thanks for the pretty picture. It’s a shame you couldn’t have actually typed anything to go along with it, or I might have been convinced to change my Satanic ways.

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