Deer Rump Roast, Meet My Dear Butt

So one of my friends is a big deer hunter and the other day he gave me 30 pounds of deer meat for Christmas. I've got deer steaks, deer tenderloins and a couple deer rump roasts, one of which I decided to take a couple pictures of me holding right before I ate it last night, as you can see above. Oooooh, it felt sooo good to rub that wet, bloody freshly thawed deer rump roast against my lovely wolfen butt! I know some people don't like the idea of eating deer meat, or shooting deer, or whatever, but honestly, it doesn't bother me. I was raised around a family of hunters and I can honestly say that rabbit and squirrels are some damn good eatin'! The deer meat isn't as good as I remembered it tasting the last time I had it, about 20 years or so ago, but it'll save me some money on food this winter. I can't help but wonder, which is tastier and which is more beautiful? My RUMP or my ROAST? Hahahahaa

God, the deer meat is sooo fucking bloody, though! I had to wring this deer roast out in the sink with my hands for a while before I could even hold it to take any pics of it. And when I cut this shit up and fry it in the frying pan it honestly doesn't smell too good, so much blood boiling in hot butter, but it honestly doesn't taste so bad after I smother it in A1 sauce. Mmmmmm! Anyway, tomorrow I'm going home for the belated holidays. I'll spend the New Year's weekend with all my little nieces and nephews and eat some of my mom's home cooking which is a helluva lot better than mine. When I come back Sunday afternoon I'll be ready to start the New Year off with a bang, a howl, and perhaps I'll even make some deer meat tacos while I watch the final games of the NFL regular season.

TacObama Power and the Hula HOOps of HOpe!

Here is another commissioned painting I mailed out to someone the other day. There is a little write-up I made for it HERE. The customer sent me three pics of theirself to be included in the painting, and the rest of the painting's content was up to me. I wanted to do something that focused on the letter "O" (for "Obama," of course) and I started with Michelle Obama hula-hooping. All paintings must also contain tacos and underwear.



I have another customer wanting me to make a painting with them, their girlfriend, their dog, President Obama and Michelle-- along with tacos and underwear, of course. I've been racking my brain trying to figure out how to cram all of that in one image, but I think I can manage.

I'm Not The Creep, You Are!

I've been called "creepy" in my life plenty of times, or occasionally someone will just say I'm an outright creep which, of course, isn't true. And there's times when I encounter or meet someone and I think they are a creep, only to find out later, once I've gotten to know them, that they are pretty decent people. So in the spirit of Christmas I wanted to mention someone in my life that I've recently learned isn't as creepy as I thought, despite my initial impression of them.

It's this older lady neighbor of mine. This past summer she was always hanging out outside the apartment complex, sitting at one of our patio tables, with her cat in a baby stroller. When I passed her I'd say hello and she'd point to the sky and say things like, "Jesus is such a great artist, isn't he?", implying that Jesus painted the sky blue, or whatever. I'd just humor her and say yeah, he sure is. She is always wearing skirts so I think she goes to some Mennonite church here in town. I didn't really think much of her until it started getting cold and I started noticing her constantly walking the hallways of my apartment complex. She would hang out in the lobby, walking in circles and muttering to herself, her baby stroller with the cat in it nearby. She also quit talking to me when I passed by, just gave me this piercing mean stare. I'd leave my apartment and start walking down the hall and I would look over my shoulder to see her staring at me from the lobby, looking like she wanted to kill me or put a curse on me, her long, gray unkempt hair sticking up all over. I started to think she was pissed at me because she could smell my cigarette smoke and I started wondering if she was going to rat me out.

But last week I passed her on my way to get my mail. She didn't say a word, just gave me a mean look and I was like, fuck it, and I said to her, "Is there something wrong?" To this her face softened and she gave me a sad look. She started telling me about how she has some pain in her legs that makes it impossible for her to sit down for very long and that is why she walks the halls all day and night. Then she started talking about how she has no friends, no family, and how bored she gets. She started telling me about how no one wants to talk to her. Well, I stood there listening to her sob story for awhile and, before you know it, I ended up going back in my apartment. I dug out my fucking checker board from the bottom of a bunch of dirty underwear in my closet and spent a couple hours playing checkers with this old whiny bitch. About every ten minutes she had to get up from her seat and walk around. At one point she was at the other end of the lobby when I said, "King Me!" because, you know, one of my checkers made it to the last row of the board, and this chick was all like, "Wait, I'm in so much pain, I don't know if I can get there to do it!" I was like, fucking walk over here KING ME, bitch! Hahahahaaaha. Yeah, and of course she's trying to get me to go to her church. I actually might one of these nights if I get bored enough, who knows? But yeah, I found out this woman wasn't really a creep or all that creepy, she's just some miserable old lady in alot of pain. I kind of enjoyed playing checkers with her and might do it again sometime.