(no subject)
I'm popping the community cherry! As a first round of terrible art, I give you PounceWhisper.
Can we talk about this? Okay, let's talk about this.
Let's ignore for a moment that we have a hairless dog with a bad wig. Let's even ignore the unfortunate color choice that looks to me like the Gerber Baby took a runny shit on David Bowie's least favorite spandex outfit, or the fact that dogs aren't purple (I'll just be honest with myself, what's the point of making that distinction? It's a dog with tits. There are a lot of things in this picture that just aren't). Let's ignore the fact that it may have been biologically spawned from Bat Boy based on the placement, shape, and unnecessary size of its ears in relation to its skull. I'm even willing to look past the crotch-navel, play-dough arms, uneven weight distribution that should surely keep her permanently on the floor from the sheer weight of her fat head, and the fact that her bra is dual-wielding a Bullet Bill in each cup that seems to be frantically trying to both escape her shirt and gravity.
Let's just jump right to what I noticed first, and that's the awkward placement of the whole damn picture. You might as well write "FUCK YOU" in the negative space, because I feel like that might be what the artist was trying to say at the time when they were trying to choose what kind of clever angle to use to strategically crop their picture in order to hide the feet. Hey, look. I know all artists have some hangups about what they can and cannot draw well. But I'm just confused about one thing.
Original
Why does the tragic Dell-wielding hacker with the soccer mom shag and the mangina get them? And the dickless chinchilla and his lovely wife the nipple-less deer-unicorn-squirrel-cat? I don't know what this is? And this fag? Even the spotted cobra-cat's slave, the horse-cat-dog-squirrel has been found deserving of them!
This picture is like an M. Night Shyamalan film that ends without any kind of twist. You sit in your seat. You stare at the screen, stupefied, rubbing at your eyes as the lights in the theater come up and the crushing sense of self-loathing begins to filter in as you lament that you even just spent your time or money on such a massive shitbomb of a movie that you knew even going into it was going to be absolutely awful. But you wait. You wait even after the credits have rolled and the soundtrack has faded. Where is the twist? WHERE IS IT? Where are the purple titty-dog's feet? It can't just be feet, right? That's too simple, they would've been included! She knows how to draw feet, so why would she tease us like this? Are they tentacles? Are they going to loop back and make one continuous leg that starts at one thigh and ends at the other? Is there a pot of gold? A million dollars? A masterpiece? The Lindbergh baby?
My friends...we'll never know.
Can we talk about this? Okay, let's talk about this.
Let's ignore for a moment that we have a hairless dog with a bad wig. Let's even ignore the unfortunate color choice that looks to me like the Gerber Baby took a runny shit on David Bowie's least favorite spandex outfit, or the fact that dogs aren't purple (I'll just be honest with myself, what's the point of making that distinction? It's a dog with tits. There are a lot of things in this picture that just aren't). Let's ignore the fact that it may have been biologically spawned from Bat Boy based on the placement, shape, and unnecessary size of its ears in relation to its skull. I'm even willing to look past the crotch-navel, play-dough arms, uneven weight distribution that should surely keep her permanently on the floor from the sheer weight of her fat head, and the fact that her bra is dual-wielding a Bullet Bill in each cup that seems to be frantically trying to both escape her shirt and gravity.
Let's just jump right to what I noticed first, and that's the awkward placement of the whole damn picture. You might as well write "FUCK YOU" in the negative space, because I feel like that might be what the artist was trying to say at the time when they were trying to choose what kind of clever angle to use to strategically crop their picture in order to hide the feet. Hey, look. I know all artists have some hangups about what they can and cannot draw well. But I'm just confused about one thing.
Original
Why does the tragic Dell-wielding hacker with the soccer mom shag and the mangina get them? And the dickless chinchilla and his lovely wife the nipple-less deer-unicorn-squirrel-cat? I don't know what this is? And this fag? Even the spotted cobra-cat's slave, the horse-cat-dog-squirrel has been found deserving of them!
This picture is like an M. Night Shyamalan film that ends without any kind of twist. You sit in your seat. You stare at the screen, stupefied, rubbing at your eyes as the lights in the theater come up and the crushing sense of self-loathing begins to filter in as you lament that you even just spent your time or money on such a massive shitbomb of a movie that you knew even going into it was going to be absolutely awful. But you wait. You wait even after the credits have rolled and the soundtrack has faded. Where is the twist? WHERE IS IT? Where are the purple titty-dog's feet? It can't just be feet, right? That's too simple, they would've been included! She knows how to draw feet, so why would she tease us like this? Are they tentacles? Are they going to loop back and make one continuous leg that starts at one thigh and ends at the other? Is there a pot of gold? A million dollars? A masterpiece? The Lindbergh baby?
My friends...we'll never know.