Another post in less than one week? Must be important.
Not really. Just a couple of occurences that had me curious. Tits. Yep, they're the couple that's got me curious-or I should say, that's got other people curious.
Over the past bunch of years doing comic cons and salons, I've ran into quite a few girls who were convinced that the tits I paint are fake. Huh? I'll repeat-there are females out there who actually think I'm painting women with breast implants. During one San Diego con there were two instances. I had a painting of Girl displayed on my table-nipples covered, of course (don't wanna be banned)-one young couple walked by saw my painting and the girl points at it and says "They're fake." I started laughing and she embarassingly dragged her drooling boyfriend away. A few hours later, another young pair walked by, and this time the young dude stopped dead in his tracks and just ogled the painting for a few seconds before his girly angrily yanked his arm and pulled him away.
More recently, last month to be exact, me and my friend were in a pub hanging out with a girl from England that we met earlier this year. She's cool, but she loves her red wine, if you follow me. I'd never shown her my work before last month because she said early on she never liked comics. Okay-that's cool. Well, she was on her way back to England the following week and after a few bottles of the grape, she asked to see one of my books. I thought, fuck it, show her the hard stuff. I normally show prudes and girls from the U.K. and the U.S. my FANG books just to avoid...what happened next.I showed her "Girl's Kama Sutra" and from the first page it was "Those are fake." Okay, that's it. Number one, it's a goddamned drawing. Number two-why the hell would I draw or paint fake tits? Oh, did I mention she hates men? Always picks the wrong guy and keeps going back to them. I did my best to acknowledge that,okay, she was wasted and kept a reign on my temper. I was used to comments like this, but I guess this night was a little diferent. And I wasn't even drunk-but she was a looker. I just wanted to know why someone would think I draw fake tits. The answer I got that ended the conversation was "Because you're a man."
I truly believe that at some point in history, women grew large breasts. Not all women. But every now and then there are women who have exceptional, natural busoms, and I'm convinced that some of them walk the earth even today. I even remember seeing a few of them in person. But I guess I'm just imagining things. I guess I'll be seeing Elvis next and the Yeti. Now that breast implants are all the rage, I guess women just don't want to grow them anymore-except really fat women. I figured out they're the only type of women whose tits will be accepted as natural. I paint tits because let's face it, they sell books. People think I'm a big boob guy, but personally, I'll take what a girl has. I'm not sure if anyone has noticed, but my paintings don't stop below the tits. I focus on everything because it's my duty.
It's a shame that some women's insecurities have led them to put down other women who've "got more" than they do in an effort to make themselves feel better. "Mine are small, but at least they're real!" So much so that they begin to put down fantasy images. This hapened again last night in a pub. One of the spanish waiters saw a copy of FANG that was left there by the ridiculously gorgeous spanish waitress whom I gave it to who simply loved every page of it. The waiter says to me "I really enjoyed your book with all the colors and the women with all the surgery made tits. Very nice."
And I'm leaving that right there. I don't even have a response to statements like that from a guy. From women, I understand those sad comments. But when a guy says something like that, my audio shuts off and he is off my radar for good.
Maybe next time I'll write about the comments I've heard from the fellas over the years about the dicks I've drawn in my books. Then again, maybe not. I just don't have that kind of time. And you though THIS was a long post.