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Pencil sketches _ everyday stories of the perfectly normal
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Pencil sketches _ everyday stories of the perfectly normal
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Orson_Cartoon
LAH Artist
Warnings: Warning
Posts: 88

Post Pencil sketches _ everyday stories of the perfectly normal Quote
......



Last edited by Orson_Cartoon on Tue Jan 17, 2012 7:25 pm; edited 4 times in total
Thu Nov 03, 2011 5:52 pm Profile PM
Orson_Cartoon
LAH Artist
Warnings: Warning
Posts: 88

Post Preparing the Christmas tree fairy Quote
I was going to paint this up and use it for this year's Christmas card. Then I sobered up.

Pencil sketch/doodle cartoon.






edit - link back to this thread removed



Last edited by Orson_Cartoon on Fri Jan 13, 2012 9:55 am; edited 1 time in total
Thu Nov 03, 2011 7:55 pm Profile PM
StVincent
Iron Angel
Warnings:
Posts: 60

Post Quote
Hey there Orson... good work with the pencil. Xmas tree fairy should not be crying in my opinion (!!), but it's your picture and your story. Perhaps the hand is being a bit rough with her!! Smile


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Fri Nov 04, 2011 11:54 am Profile PM
Orson_Cartoon
LAH Artist
Warnings: Warning
Posts: 88

Post Quote
"Why you always draw teenie girlies wiv no boobies? Are you some kind of pervert of some sort?" he said, draining his coffee and belching. "And why have they never got pubic hair?"

He scratched his rear and peered at my drawing, shaking his head,. He sniffed his finger, shrugging dismissively. "I prefer tits you can get big handfuls of, all covered in baby oil, all slippery and soft so they wrap round yer willie when you slide it between..."

"Enough?" I interrupted hastily as I took his empty cup. "It's harder drawing flat chested chicks. And... they fit the paper better. Anyway, drawing wrinkles takes too much effort" I waffled on for another few minutes or so while he sat there with a far away look in his eyes, murmuring occasionally.

"Big boobies... Huge great sweaty knockers... Cockwrapping great fleshy pillows of... Tits.. Eeeenormous jugs... "

I finished justifying the aesthetics of the slight figure as he broke his revery and turned to look at me. I handed him a paper towel and he wiped the drool from his lips. And his chin. And his shirt front.

He left, unconvinced. I was worried he might think I was some sort of pedallist, or podiatrist or whatever the damned word is. Lycanthropist? Vinophile? My brain had melted after listening to his obsessive rantings about huge man-eating bosoms and nipples you could throw hoopla rings over, so I followed him to the door afew seconds after it had closed behind him.

I shouted down the drive at him, "And I hate pubic hair. It gets caught in your teeth and it'd illegal in old photos and none of the classical paintings have it. When I'm God and create a new universe I will design smaller wimmin with bald pubes and non-saggy tits!" I breathed out, then added as an afterthought "And none of 'em will be over five feet two inches tall, and their feet will be size four or less!!" I realized I had gone too far and was in danger of making myself look a little, umm.. deviant - maybe even weird.

He started to run, pulling his coat over his head and trying to whistle nonchalently. "Wait!" I called, "you've forgot your hat. Father O'Malley, come back! Father O'Malley. Father O'Malley... "

But my words fell on an empty driveway.


Later, sitting in empty doctor's waiting room and, er, waiting for someone, I thought I'd draw a more voluptuous teenie instead. Took out my trusty Poundland sketch book and knocked this out. Did a bit more on the shading at home.

See, I have proved I am not a prevert. Or not.



Last edited by Orson_Cartoon on Fri Jan 13, 2012 9:49 am; edited 2 times in total
Sat Nov 05, 2011 2:07 am Profile PM
Orson_Cartoon
LAH Artist
Warnings: Warning
Posts: 88

Post Quote
"So, Orson," shouted Father O'Malley as he climbed down the stepladder. "We need a pisture to go here, above the door and the full length of the Womens Institute room. Something inspirational so when the ladies have a break from their cake selling and parish gossip, they can be reminded of the sins of temptation and idly conjuring up demons and the like. Take that Mrs Flahoonery, for instance. When her husband got killed in that terrible accident down at the sausage factory, she took up the Ouija board. Before you could get your hat on, she's the house all run over with demons and gremlins. Imps as well, begorrah. She had one of them there poltergeese chappies put the devil himself into her, umm, marital aid and it chased her all round the house, buzzin' an' vibrating like the beez o'bub of old until she finally dropped down with the stitch and it rogered her up and down the hall carpet till the batteries ran out. Twas a terrible thing."
"Then there was that widow on the corner, the satanist with the Winibago. She raised Lucifer one night in her kitchen and the fire brigade had to turn out to get her out from under the sink. Even now she can't be ib the same room as a sink plunger without screaming."
"Orson, can you do a painting for the church that'll remind the good womenfolk of the parish of the consequences of raising up spirits and imps and suchlike?"


And so, like that Italian bloke - Charlton Heston - and that chapel ceiling in the Vatican, I accepted the commission with gladness in my heart.
I have finished the fresco drawing and I'm starting the painting tomorrow after the Bishop has been round to bless the paint and we've all had a drink.

Here is the drawing.



edit - link back to this thread removed



Last edited by Orson_Cartoon on Fri Jan 13, 2012 9:56 am; edited 1 time in total
Sat Nov 05, 2011 2:55 am Profile PM
Sat
Star Angel
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Posts: 7535

Post Quote
Umm.... Cool story, bro? Very Happy

And also awesome art, man.


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Sat Nov 05, 2011 10:38 am Profile PM WWW Skype
Orson_Cartoon
LAH Artist
Warnings: Warning
Posts: 88

Post Quote
I answered the door. It was the good Father again.

"Orson, I know 'tis a terrible imposition on a fine day such as this, but one o' the girls at the convent school took no notice of me sermon on the dangers of meddlin' with the occult and suchlike and bought one o' those terrible teenage magazines. The blessed comic had an article on casting spells to find your true love, which is a bit of a shame cos Katie here was all set to be joining the convent and taking holy orders rather than becoming another parish housewife or working down the teabag recycling plant like her sister Jennie but she left and works as a rep for Amalgamated Widgets down by the canal with her fancy car and real nylons and the like.."

"Ahem!!" I interrupted, feigning a sudden attack of the pneumonia. "Ahem! Cough cough spleughheurghhh-hack!"

"Oh dear. Was I going on a bit there? Well, the long and short of it..well rreally the short of it," O'Malley chuckled, " is the silly girl was following the recipe in Teen Witch Princess and it clearly stated a pinch of eye of newt and a good squirt of mole semen, and with the right incantification an' the full moon and the naked dancing, it should have the effect of making her irresistible to whoever she was thinking about. Unfortunately she used a good squirt of Mule semen instead of the mole.. There was a bit of an accident."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Well," he continued, "Y'know how you have a bit of a soft spot for the more petite loli lady, and that's a thing I've chided y'about on an occasion or two?"
I noddded glumly as he went on "and the wee thing had had a bit of a fixation on you since you painted the Lady Mayoress."
I nodded again, remembering what a job it had been to get the paint out of her hair but how she seemed to enjoy the rub down with thinners.

"Well now," he whooped, reaching down into his carpet bag. "here she is!"
In his hand was the slightly struggling form of Katie McHoolagoolahan, exact in every detail apart from the matter of - well, she used stand shoulder height to me. Now she stood shoulder high to a largish cat.

"I understand the effects last about a week. I'd be grateful if you could keep her entertained for the next few days," With that he thrust her into my hand and ran off down the drive, cackling.

So, here I am, two days later. Katie McHoolagoolahan has proved to be an excellent paperweight but better than that, I have found her useful for moistening my finger to facilitate turning the pages of the rather dull book I am reading.


edit - link back to this thread removed



Last edited by Orson_Cartoon on Fri Jan 13, 2012 9:58 am; edited 1 time in total
Tue Nov 08, 2011 11:04 am Profile PM
Orson_Cartoon
LAH Artist
Warnings: Warning
Posts: 88

Post Quote
It was another damned Sunday School picnic. I had been roped in again to carry the first aid kit and the gin.

I was laying on a blanket chewing a piece of grass, idly watching the delightful Maria FitzfitzRoy playing beach volleyball with the O'Hooligan sisters, taking in their long-legged giggly girliness and appreciating the aesthetically wonderful curve of a thigh inflecting into the equally wonderful curve of tight gym shorts. I was transfixed, happy and starting to feel the effect of my fifth martini. Bees buzzed lazilly about and brightly coloured butterflies fluttered hither and thither. A portable gramophone was playing The Lark Ascending. I was in Heaven.

My view was suddenly and rudely occludulated by the perspectively ginormified brogues of Father Christopher O'Malley which had appeared inches from my nose as if summoned from the depths pf hell by dark incantation. Before I had time to even think the word "Damn!" my ears were assailed by the proximally amplified brogue of the above Father.

"Ahh, there you are, Orson."

I squirmed, trying to peer around the mountainous feet as he droned on, "We've a church magazine coming out in a day or two, and we need a picture of the Lady Mayoress to grace the front page an' all. I was wondering, seeing as you're not very busy if you'd mind getting your pen and paper and," he waved towards the lady in question who was sitting off to my right, sunning herself nect to the snoring Mayor, "go somewhere with her and quicklly knock her up?"

My inner double entendre meter groaned. "Oooh Matron!" its alarm went in a perfect Kenneth Williams voice. Don't react. Keep the face immobile.

"Er, sure, Father." I said, successfully seeing past his foot just in time to catch Bridget O'Hooligan stiff-leggedly tying her shoe-laces, facing away from me. I whimpered.

"What's that?"

"Nothing Father. just a touch of wind." I whimpered again like a puppy who had been shown a very special treat but had then had it snatched away and put out of reach. Bridget O'Hooligan stood up again, and stretched, rather too slowly, then turned to face me. She bounced up and down on the spot for a while. Her tight, white shirt was all the support she needed, and the sharp sunlight showed no bra line. It did, however, show every tiny nuance of contour, movement and resulting protruberance.. It may as well have been spray-painted on. She jiggled rhythmically and deliciously, jumping and jogging on the spot, her shirt movement not quite in phase with her jumping.. I whimpered again and tried to be swallowed up by the ground. I failed.

It was a while before I could roll outt of my face-down position without disgracing myself, but eventually I sauntered across the grass.

"Ah, Commander!" she greeted me with a smile. "You've come to do me, then?" Kenneth Williams gave a final "Oooh" and disconnected himself in shame. I never heard from him again.

"Lady Mayoress," I demurred with a slight bow. "Indeed I have."

"You must call me Wendy"

"And you must call me Orson." She took my hand and I helped her to her feet. "I know a little clearing in those woods over there. We'll not be disturbed. Shall we...?"

She gripped my hand and almost raced me through the woods, stopping and laughing breathlessly as we reached the clearing.

"I'm afraid my hair is a bit informal," she said, fussing with it. "Hang on a minute, I'll comb it out."

"No, leave it. I like the bunches. Very Lolita."

"Why, Orson," she purred, "I adore role play. How do you want me, uncle Orson?"

I showed her.

Later, I made a few sketches, mainly formal.
Here's one, a caricature, that didn't make it to the Church Magazine. She asked to keep it and made me sign it "Uncle." I understand it's on the wall in her sewing room, framed under glass. She tells visitors she bought ir on holiday because it amused her, resembling her as it did.

She still calls me "Uncle" when she wants a refresher, and the last time I called by, by appointment, she was dressed the part. I thought it was her daughter, for a moment. You'd have to look at her very hard to see any extra years.

"I'm hosting a fancy dress party next week. The theme is school days. This is my outfit. Like? Oh good. You are, of course, going to come?"

I did.



Last edited by Orson_Cartoon on Mon Jan 02, 2012 5:25 am; edited 2 times in total
Fri Nov 11, 2011 5:59 pm Profile PM
sissiefan
Beginner Angel
Warnings:
Posts: 10

Post nice shrinking pic Quote
reminds me of the 'tinkerbell' pics I used to like Smile

Very nice style, with pencils like that colour isn't really needed... keep it up.

Fri Nov 11, 2011 7:58 pm Profile PM YIM
Orson_Cartoon
LAH Artist
Warnings: Warning
Posts: 88

Post Quote
well, there you go then.. (thanks)

I just dashed this off a few minutes ago. It was going to be a picture of a tree but you know what it's like - the voices won't let it happen.


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Sat Nov 12, 2011 4:27 am Profile PM
Orson_Cartoon
LAH Artist
Warnings: Warning
Posts: 88

Post Quote
still learning this inking thing. Very early stages



edit - link back to this thread removed



Last edited by Orson_Cartoon on Fri Jan 13, 2012 10:01 am; edited 1 time in total
Sun Nov 13, 2011 2:00 am Profile PM
Greenback
Iron Angel
Warnings:
Posts: 99

Post Quote
like your drawings and the stories that go with them Smile

Sun Nov 20, 2011 1:19 am Profile PM
Orson_Cartoon
LAH Artist
Warnings: Warning
Posts: 88

Post work in progress Quote
Well...
she wouldn't keep still.

The kid next door brought her round
"Can you fix this tiny dolly?" she asked. "She was in a hedge and was very cold.. 'Bye now" and she lef

I opened the shoe box. White skin and limp wings. A little green dress. About half the height of a Barbie doll. I thought it was a resin casting but too soft. I carefully lifted the figure out and laid it on my desk, under the lamp.
Screwed up eyes. Hadn't they been open a moment ago?
I gently picked her up - not an "it" any more - and slid her inside my shirt, placing my hand over her and tried to warm her up a little. She blinked, coughed and started shivering. More warmth from a
folded shirt and soon she had some colour in her skin and she began moving around, which is why I anchored her down with the padlock. She glared and struggled but soon stopped . I slid the dress off and discovered impressive detailing in everything I saw. She didn't struggle again as I examined her, fed her some water and found she could eat a strawberry if I offered her little pieces on the end of my finger. She lapped it up like a kitten, softly and delicately and briefly, through her tears, she flashed me a smile. Just the one.

That was yesterday. The kid's forgotten all about her. I tried photographing her this morning. The picure showed the background behind her, but not her. There goes my fame and fortune, then.

Unfortunately I find her kind of cute. Actually, that's a huge understatement. She affects me hugely..

I don't want to let go of her... I find myself thinking of impossible things.

Who knows what wonders magic may yet work?


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Thu Nov 24, 2011 11:16 am Profile PM
Orson_Cartoon
LAH Artist
Warnings: Warning
Posts: 88

Post ongoing Quote
I'd barely opened the door when she pushed straight past me and stood behind me in the hallway.
Before I'd chance to say, "Why, it's Mary Mae McDonegogal, daughter of the village grocer! What can I..?" she stamped her foot and shrieked.

"The dance class. It's been cancelled. Father O'Malley let the Mother's Union use the church hall for an Egyptian baking bring and buy afternoon, and that Mrs. Neferteatree with the nice tan that runs the delicatessan and sells foreign coffee used one of her old family recipes she's found in an old box and now the churxh hall is all infested with the Undead!!"
She breathed out, freckles blazing and nostrils flaring. Red heads, always the same.

"Why don't you come in and have a nice cup of tea?" I offered, lamely.

"Wahhh!" she sobbed, suddenly. "And they're all running round with bandages hanging off 'em and moaning and wailing. Yes thanks, don't mind if I do. And the Father says we can't do any exercising till the Bishop's been round and done the exorcising and I've got an interpretive dance exam in town on tuesday and need to practice.
Father says I wasn't to bother you 'cos you're all busy with the Foolish Virgins, but I thought maybe if I asked you nicely, you'd let me use your huge living room..?"
She sank to her knees and asked me very nicely. Very nicely indeed.
I couldn't turn her down, could I?
"I've always got time for one more foolish virgin" I whispered, patting the top of her head. The life-size painting on Father O'Malley's study ceiling would have to wait.

She blushed as we drank our tea. "I'm sorry, Mr. Cartoon. I've never asked anything like that before. I don't know what came over me."

I did. I reminded her. She giggled.

"Call me Orson" I said. "Look, Mary Mae, you can ask me anything you like from now on, particularly if you feel you don't want to ask anybody else."

She nodded, thoughtfully. "No, I could never ask anybody else... It's a bit of a one-way trip thing with me. " After a minute's silence she added brightly, "Will you watch me dance, please?"

"If you ask me nicely again - and call me Sir." I grinned.

"Will you watch me dance...Sir? " she asked over the top of her teacup. "I'll ask you nicely afterwards, if that's all right. "She paused for a moment and added, "Sir."

She danced, and danced. Glowing, sweating. Very bendy. I watched her, hard. Before she asked me that way again I would ask her something similar myself. I'm sure she'd enjoy the way I ask - apparently I'm quite persuasive. Silver tongued, they say.


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Ignore Orson's boring world of insane priests, luscious schoolgirls, nymphomaniac nuns, elves, catgirls, minidominatriceuse dancers, pixies, anchovy spearfishers, fairies...
Fri Nov 25, 2011 4:22 am Profile PM
Orson_Cartoon
LAH Artist
Warnings: Warning
Posts: 88

Post Re: work in progress Quote
Updated the pencil work.
Maybe the pencil will be a better end result.

Very pleased with this so far. The original really "glows"


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Fri Nov 25, 2011 4:43 am Profile PM
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