It’s live t.v.! Time to get extra awkward, Dean!
So they called me up before hand and asked me a bunch of questions that I had real answers for.
then before the camera was rolling she asked me pretty much the same questions…
then the camera started rolling and… whoa, this is all new.
I wanted to show off rob’s stuff but I didn’t get a chance to sneak it in.
Oh well. That’s my http://www.whatcoloristsdo.com site they cut to halfway through actually, even though the interviewer didn’t know it until I pointed it out afterwards.
I was on T.V. again. There’s a live television segment too (you can see me in the background at the very end there) but it’s a bit painful to watch, I’ll upload if I find the time to devote to encoding a video of myself sweating under the lights just for your morbid curiosity.
Last week, in a rush to get to work, Steph didn’t notice Switch (my cockatiel) was awake and wandering around the floor. She stepped on him. Thankfully not directly on him, but on his tailfeathers only. Well there was a big squawk and a flurry of flapping, then he settled back down like nothing was wrong. Steph, on the other had burst into tears “I could have killed him” etc. Anyway, so, in his hurry to fly away from the foot on his butt, all of his tailfeathers got yanked out. Birds don’t really need their tailfeathers to fly, it just sortof helps them steer and break about maybe, 15-20% better. So he’s been having some awkward landings. If I’m not mistaken having your tailfeathers pulled out is roughly equivalent to having a bunch of hair pulled out. It smarts, but it’s not really a lasting pain. At least from his attitude, that’s what I’m gathering. Cause he was back to normal just a few minutes afterwards.
anyway, here are some in-flight photos I just snapped so you can see how dorky he looks.
Years ago, my parents were fed-up with my “meh, I don’t really need a car” attitude. And, in an effort to keep their 20-something year old son from asking to borrow their ride every other month when he needed to haul home a new computer or whatever, they donated an old car to me. Well, now, that ’91 Pontiac Sunbird is starting to embarrass the family enough, with it’s grinding reverse gear and rusty door bottoms, that Grandma and grandpa have decided to donate another old car to me for my birthday. I am now the defacto owner of a ’95 Dodge Spirit. Green, with gold trim. Hot Damn.
BUT! Much more importantly, while I was there, they dug out this old russian hat for me.
I’m going to be on t.v. again next week, I’ll either be drawing Pac-man popping a Viagra pill, or one truck milking another truck. Help T.V. is doing a feature on comic jam, and that’s what I was drawing as they stuck the camera over my shoulder. Not my best work, but at least it’s fantastically horrible subject matter.
