Hello
I'm Shrimpy. Uh, i'm a plastic lawn decoration. That's what Linda thinks anyways.
Despite my name, i'm not that..small.. I am actually quite big. Uhm. Linda just calls me that because she thinks it's funny.
KIROKAZE
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Three Goblin Art

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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

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Cosmic Funnies
trying on a metaphor
will byers stan first human second
i don't do bad sauce passes
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

#extradirty
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@longleggedshrimpy
Hello
I'm Shrimpy. Uh, i'm a plastic lawn decoration. That's what Linda thinks anyways.
Despite my name, i'm not that..small.. I am actually quite big. Uhm. Linda just calls me that because she thinks it's funny.
Happy pride month!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Happy Pride 2026!!
more gadgets 🤕🤕🤕
Ramble
It’s strange looking back, but it only makes sense that my goals have shifted so much. I think I had it in my head that I’d like to build an audience for my art, because as an artist, that’s what you do, right? If your art isn’t noticed and appreciated, why make it at all?
Of course that’s not the entire reason why I kept drawing, but it became a larger motivation. I told myself it was for me, and it was.
The validation, the interaction, not even likes or shares but just the knowledge that my ideas and my artistic expression has value because people see it, and see me. That people out there, real people, would share in my joy and excitement.
And obviously, I wanted to eventually get to a point where I could make money from it. Because that was the ultimate proof that I had value, right? When I make money from my art, then I have a reason to sit and do something I like doing. Which is very messed up, obviously.
I’m happy to say that I’m in a better place. I want to improve aand hone my skills, but not so I can achieve an acceptable product, or even something clean and nice to show people, but for the love of the game.
it’s still there, of course, that desire to capitalize off my art, to pay off some imaginary debt to the time I’ve ‘wasted’ just having a good time. It made me resent everything I’ve made. But at least I have a better understanding that it’s okay to just make something. Crazy that it took this long for me to understand that, but I guess I was scared of being an aimless young person with no ambition or goals.
But like, if I’m okay with just working odd jobs to fund my hobby, that’s a total win, right? Majority of people would never be okay with that, for good reason.
At the moment, I’m not prioritizing improvement. I’m still trying to be okay with how my art looks right now, and how much I don’t know, and how much I still have to learn. It’s a very tall hill, and I’ll get there. For now, I want to learn how to be okay with that and to enjoy the process regardless of the result.
I would apologize for the ramble, but if you read this, that’s on you gng.
Hope to post more Ig art soon! I haven’t been drawing it in so long, but I have a lot of old art stored up.
It’s-It’s old man yaoi, it’s all old man yaoi, I’m so sorry.
Making exercises more accessible to the disabled? Fuck yeah!
My three girlfriends. And yes, they smoke weed.
do they smoke weed?
Yes, actually.
you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette?
It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)
They don’t look like they smoke weed.
Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.
Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.
I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING
Well that escalated quickly……
What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*
haha oh my god
who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.
love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.
and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.
“the goo pile that is now your body”
i’m dying over here, jesus
please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.
*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot… *leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*
this dude playin omg
Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you. I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.* Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
Happy 420
Happy 420
my little lascaux
An Update on Rausliers
decided a while ago that Rausliers weren't quite working for me, so I've changed some stuff about their design to better suit my ideas for them, as well as making them easier to draw (for me lol).
Highly enamored by their colorful crests, chunky hooves and :3 faces ✨
i hate that concerns about urban gardening/foraging safety is often met with "What are you, a cop?" scorn. I believe it's a suspicion of anything that hinders the punk/anti-system urgency to jump in immediately and do whatever feels right.
Safety, ethics, and sustainability are all a part of urban gardening and foraging. I'm sorry that means you need to do homework before you can do anything, I know that sounds lame. But life is complicated.
I know anti-intellectualism is viewed as activist these days, but like, surely you don't want to literally eat lead, right?
Let’s check in and see how those rascally solarpunk kids are doing, surely they’ve learned by now that…..
Daily reminder: Leafy greens like kales uptake all those delicious heavy metals in urban soils like lead and cadmium.
Don’t eat sidewalk-crack kale.
Here's some cool references from the EPA on safe urban gardening:
REUSING POTENTIALLY CONTAMINATED LANDSCAPES: Growing Gardens in Urban Soils
Steps to Creating a Community Garden or Expand Urban Agriculture at a Brownfields Site
I love animation history and one of the things that always baffled me was how did animators draw the cars in 101 Dalmatians before the advent of computer graphics?
Any rigid solid object is extremely challenging for 2D artists to animate because if one stray line isn’t kept perfectly in check, the object will seem to wobble and shift unnaturally.
Even as early as the mid 80’s Disney was using a technique where they would animate a 3D object and then apply a 2D filter to it. This practice could be applied to any solid object a character interacts with: from lanterns a character is holding, to a book (like in Atlantis), or in the most extreme cases Cybernetic parts (like in Treasure Planet).
But 101 Dalmatians was made WAY before the advent of this technology. So how did they do the Cruella car chase sequence at the end of the film?
The answer is so simple I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me sooner:
They just BUILT the models and painted them white with black outlines 🤣
That was the trick. They’re not actually 2D animated, they’re stop motion. They were physical models painted white and filmed on a white background. The black outlines become the lineart lines and they just xeroxed the frame onto an animation cel and painted it like any other 2D animated frame.
That’s how they did it! Isn’t that amazing? It’s such a simple low tech solution but it looks so cool in the final product.
Depression comic
i am inexplicably reminded of this
starting a collection
HEY. HOW DID YOU GET SO BIG.
WHAT KIND OF DOG ARE YOU.
I HAVE QUESTIONS FOR YOU.
[video description: a Dalmatian following a horse that is white with black spots. end description.]
this is, btw, probably extremely fulfilling for this dog.
Dalmatians were supposed to be hunting dogs at the founding of the breed, but what they mostly became bred and used for was carriage dogs.
A carriage dog is a dog whose job it is to run alongside a horse and carriage and prevent anyone from interfering with it. They were excellent carriage security. Nobody could reach up and grab the horses reins, nobody could try to open the carriage door - you could even park with peace of mind
This is also how they became known as firehouse dogs, because fire trucks used to look like this
and i imagine having a carriage dog was very useful to prevent even well-meaning members of the public from doing anything stupid to the equipment or horses while you fought a fire.
So the dog in the video is probably feeling very Job Well Done about his activity
Some of my favorite deltarune drawings <3 ( i have so much art to repost omg )
happy new year! have some of my brain rot.