I could never be a professional artist because if you tell me to do a warmup I’m not gonna draw. I’m not drawing cubes!!!
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I could never be a professional artist because if you tell me to do a warmup I’m not gonna draw. I’m not drawing cubes!!!
I’m the praying mantis whose breakfast was her mate.
With the first bite, the crunch echoed across the still silent forrest floor.
Gunk splattered and oozed, and I never thought it would cease.
I almost felt guilty for eating him that morning, but I remembered this was for his own good.
So I continued my feast.