3vil Chef.

Today I had planned a wonderfully detailed story of my unsavory past. But it got too intense, I sent more beans spilling into the cosmos than originally intended, for, to my dismay, I'm not yet able to discuss these things objectively. so I had to copy the whole thing and tuck it away somewhere safe.
Never mind. No one cares for dirty laundry anyway.

Tragic Tales Of A Lefty

My sketching has been going terribly because I lost my clip-board. I, then, erroneously cast the blame upon my absent-minded mother, who, in my defense, is often guilty of misplacing objects of value.
I digress. I immediately sought the attention of my ne-er-well-to-do brother, Wallace, and announced my intentions to submit him to heavy labor with the express purpose of locating my afore-mentioned missing art equipment. He declined. I then drew his attention to that current image on our shared television: Sora, Goofy, and that irate character Donald. Further, I informed him that my next action would be the more-or-less, destruction of his brain-cells, as I would not relinquish my position on his PS2 and television, until the clipboard were returned.
He set about post-haste, to inquire of mother-dear just where she'd shoved the bloody item.
She did not know.
Wallace returned with the general air of defeat, and I found it necessary to escalate my threat. I began watching 'The Vampire Diaries' season 1, disc 2.
Wallace henceforth set about searching the cluttered room.
Much to my embarrassment, the clipboard was found, after much tossing and pitching, just where I had previously, and rather carelessly laid it aside the day before.

I felt rather guilty for accusing my own mother of thievery, and somewhat less guilty for forcing such action of Wallace, but it was a necessary evil - he's been lethargic and ill-humored of late.

Yay, now I can sketch what I forgot I wanted to sketch....