I loathe Christmas. And most things it stands for. Especially in this modern age. However, I currently reside proximal to my sister and more importantly, to my sweet little innocent 6 year old niece. As a result, Chris Mother-frickin' Kringle had his way with me. Here are the fruits of both our labors. Note that a full half of my male demons are anatomically correct. Yeah... "Blaspheme I know thy name and thy name is FRESH HELL!!!"
Holidays are over. All that crap (except of course for the devils) are sweetly tucked in storage until I'm inspired once again by the holidays... that is... my niece.
3 comments:
Did you make the demons yourself?
I rearranged my blog list in your honour. You were the first, so it shall remain. How's the liquor going down?
The liquor slips down the gullet like sweet mother's milk, my friend. Is that a warning sign?
No. Waking up next to a lifesize cut out of a Budweiser girl with a crudely cut hole for a mouth. THATS a warning sign.
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