Cheeseblarg Takes Manhattan- It's a Trap(tor)!

The final piece for Cheeseblarg Takes Manhattan is done, and I have waited to share it until now because I wanted to post the news that I was putting it on Threadless so that hopefully it can be made into a T-shirt that will get me paid so I can stop bitching about money all the time. Please, go vote. Make everyone you know vote. Everyone wants me to shut the hell up about money and this would be a start.

I also find it strange that I consistently typo the word SHIRT as SHIT.  It is like typing Tourette's.

Score this design: "It's a Trap(tor)!," to help it get printed on Threadless!

And if you would like a 15" museum quality print of this piece of art for $85, just email me me using the email at the bottom of the page.

Life in a Vacuum.

My husband is vacuuming in our bedroom, where I am, and while I appreciate that there will be less debris on the floor from my favorite blanket that likes to unravel itself, leaving strings everywhere, I really hate the vacuum cleaner.  See, our room is not all that big and there are times that he has to pick up the vacuum, to get to other parts of the room, which he does while it is still on, and it makes one of the worst sounds I have ever heard, like a garbage truck falling off the empire state building.

The vacuum itself is from the 1960s and I don't think a single part of it has ever been oiled since it was made, by the amount of squeaking coming from it. It also has its own transmission, since it weighs a ton, and you have to be careful not to get pulled under it... which is part of the reason that I refuse to vacuum.  As well as the fact that loud sounds startle me and it is very hard to vacuum whilst curled up in the fetal position with your hands over your ears.

And I must admit, my cat like reaction to the vacuum cleaner might have possibly been influenced by the movie "Mr. Mom", which is about an evil vacuum cleaner that likes to eat woobies.  That is what it's about, right? Well, that's what I took away from it. Vacuums are bad and have evil intentions, always.

 ____________________________________________________________

I entered this contest to redesign a Guylian candy box. There is a substantial cash prize I'd like to win to remedy that "no income" thing.  Half the score is likes from friends, family, whoever you can sucker into clicking, so, if you would click like to vote for mine, it would go towards possibly winning me a buttload of money that I can then use to take myself to the Grand Canyon, and I would be greatly appreciative. =D  

Click here and like over on the right, by my name, please, and then send over everyone you know!

P.S. Thanks to those who have bought stickers and donated! You helped get my husband's medicines this month so he doesn't have any more strokes!  <3

Texx with Two Xs

I saw some amazing driving today.

See, it is tax time, which means that expensive automotive death is bound to happen in my life, and this time it was my husband, in the station wagon,with the fuel pump.  Last year it was Eunice, with the timing belt, on the interstate... 50 miles from home.

But the fact that cars don't like me to have money is neither here nor there.  What IS is that I think our amazing tow truck driver, Texx with two Xs (and a fancy hat that you likely won't see outside of Montana), either has some sort of magical power, or clearly is some sort of creature with the ability to see out of the back of his head, because the feat of backing up I just saw-- around corners and perfectly into a parking spot, and THEN into a mechanic's garage port that had about 12 inches leeway on each side, with about 30 feet of truck and car in total, was bordering on mythical. I think he might actually be hiding a horn under his hat.