Here we are again, another uninspired & banal Illustration Friday word. There's not much room for interpretation here. I was going to go for the cheap shot and draw some female genitalia in protest, (do I have to spell it out?) but then I'd probably be cast into P.C. hell. You're only allowed to draw naked women if you are a woman. I don't know, it seems like a rite of passage thing. If you're a woman and you draw a naked woman in some sort of depressed pose, then you're officially an artist. It's a chick thing.
On a completely other track, did I ever mention I have the best kids in the world? I was walking home this afternoon, and saw a few adorable seven-year-old-or-so tykes leaning out of an apartment window, yelling obscenities at my son and daughter. One of them actually told Joe that he would shoot him and Mandy. When they saw me, they started screaming at me, calling me a "fat fuck" among other cute and adorable things. I marked in my mind where their window was, and decided to return after dinner.
I went back to the apartment around . A man answered the door, and I could see in an instant from his surly expression where his children got their manners. Upon seeing me, the sweet little youngsters behind him ran cover. I asked him if his was the second window from the left. He rolled his eyes and asked me what had happened. I told him the story. Afterwards, he shrugged and said he'd take care of it. I could tell that I wasn't going to get an apology, either from him or his kids. I nodded, shook his hand, and left. As I walked to the elevator, the hallway echoed with screams and curses . I wondered what sort of punishment and hurt were going to go on behind that door, and if, for the kids, it would ever end.