DOODLES #1

A year or two back, my super duper buddy Kim gave me a pretty little book for my birthday. About eight months later I gave it back as a present for her birthday, defaced with the nonsense you see below. Of course, I'd scanned it all in first, so in retrospect, I didn't really give her anything. And now I'm going to reproduce some of it here, devaluing a zero-sum birthday present ever further.

BURIED ALIVE

Poor old indie developers. Microsoft was all sweet nothings and fluttering eyelids when launching the dedicated indie marketplace for Xbox. It's all gone a Kathy Bates since then, with the marketplace compromised by crippling requirements, left to wallow in its own filth, and shunted into a dark corner of the Xbox's dashboard where its plaintive cries cannot trouble the average user. I wrote about this sorry state of affairs for Edge last month in Buried alive: the fate of Xbox Live Indie Games which has since been published online - and commented on dismissively, as is the internet's wont. I also made this picture to go with it, depicting Microsoft's chillingly inhuman Xbox Avatars dispatching one of their own to the underworld.

Edit: Blogger seems to be fucking with the colours upon upload. Bah.

CORMAX

PCGamer's Rich McCormick: the voice of an angel.

PODGE

So, I mentioned yesterday the strong correlation, if not causation, between friendship and vivid depictions of defecation - it was quickly pointed out to me that this is one of the lesser cartoon crimes I've committed against the people I know and hold dear. I will resist posting the worst of those here, but I submit instead this monstrous likeness of Owen Hill, editor of PCGamer.com, who does at least have a tiny cartoon wango. And in the picture, ha ha.

BAD GUTS

The length of time I've known someone is directly proportional to the probability that I will draw them soiling themselves with one of several possible bodily fluids, and occasionally solids too. In this picture of [REDACTED], it may even be a mixture of both. Poor old, chap. Parp!

OSHAWOTT WILL CUT YOU

Now, I'm not saying that Oshawott is the single most sinister motherfucking thing Nintendo has ever produced. I'm not saying that. I'd never say that. At least, not while Oshawott is holding a straight razor against my carotid artery.

COLUMN OF COLUMNS

I'm lucky enough to illustrate three of Edge magazine's columns every month. Sometimes, the things I draw are even half-way relevant to the article in question.