Another Crapacious Scan

This week I'm rushing to make the end-of-the-week deadline for work. But while I was waiting for notes on said work, I pumped out a quick thank you card for Coach Pauly, who lives in Arizona and will come coach your derby league for the low low price of whatever travel costs are.

He came out this past weekend to give Fight Crew a boost. And what a boost it was! I can't wait to see how his input helps us out! I was at the track alllllll weekend. Good times!

This is the rough drawing I did:





















Cute, eh?


I'm also stoked that the Sirens want me to be team manager for the rest of the season(except for the game Sirens and Fight Crew play against each other)! That should be fun!

And lastly, enjoy a minor update on the Redneck Theater front.

ZOMG!!! DRAWINGS!!!!!!

OK, so it's been a million years since I actually posted anything art-related on this alleged art blog, so here ya go...some ugly drawings.

Of course I can't keep the derbyz out of my posts, now can I? Here we have an interpretation of badass blocker Killo Kitty from the Sirens:



















I definitely need to get more cuteness in her face.


And here's a badly done scan of a Krissy Krashesque girl. It's supposed to be Krissy, but...uh...yeah. Not so much:

















Having her right skate in her crotch just can't be comfortable.

Actually, I like this drawing despite its major retardation. The pose is fairly dynamic, though simplistic in a "obviously I don't look at a bunch of comic books to get these action poses more interesting" type of way. I like her head proportions a lot, too, even though it's as big as her butt. Which doesn't happen in real life. Ha!

And sorry for the crapacious scan. I usually doodle on the backs of old storyboard paper. Which shows through when I have the lid down on the copier/scanner. So I tried scanning with the lid up, and now the image is dark and gloomy. Much like my soul.

Alright, back to work.

From Last Saturday's Game

Big hat, curly hair, loud voice, cool shirt, hot pants and shiny legs:
















Sirens squeaked by in the last jam, winning 77-71 against the newbie team, the Varsity Brawlers. That woke everyone in the league up! Fight Crew faces VB in August. We gots work to do!

As an extra-special bonus to my being able to be team manager on Saturday, I got to meet a punk legend: John Doe from X. Out of all the celebrities we've had at our games, this one made me the most happy. I listened to X a lot when I was younger, and still do when I'm in a particularly LA mood, mostly when driving around near downtown. So getting to talk to him was a Big Deal for me.

Anyway, I encountered him about 15 minutes before the game started, and I was all decked out in the Sirens outfit complete with cop sunglasses, Commie Captain hat, and tall boots. So I ended up towering above him. We shook hands, he laughed at my name, and I told him how much I loved his music and how excited I was that he was singing the National Anthem to start off the game. He then told me a story about how he was asked to sing the National Anthem for one of the Austin leagues but the US had just invaded Iraq so he wouldn't do it as a conscientious objector. Interesting! But apparently he's feeling a little better about the US now and did a fine job singing for us Saturday night. He couldn't stick around for the game but swore he'd come back. Oh, and of course he used to watch the LA T-birds play at the Olympic Auditorium Back in the Day.

Too Stoopid

Ever since the LA Derby Dolls were featured on an episode of Rock of Love II, I've become obsessed with the franchise. This year I've been avidly watching Rock of Love Bus, or as I also like to call it, SKANKARAMA.

Unlike seasons past, the finale was boring. BORRR-RRRING!!! It got that way as soon as Bret Michaels kicked off one of the drunkest "contestants", Ashley. Here she is in full force:

Rock Of Love Bus: Ashley Thinks People Who Eat Basil Are Lam
Uploaded by TheDlisted

People who eat basil are LAAME!

and,

Stuhffed...CAAABAGE.

are the two best Ashley quotes of the bunch, but she's just an obnoxious ball-buster throughout her stint on the show. My other fave quote: I didn't know they made bikinis in size Fat Fuck!

Pure genius.

She's going to be on Charm School 3. Guess who has two thumbs and will be watching that train wreck?! THIS GUY!!!

LADD game this Saturday

Our bout promos are bananas:




I get to be the Sirens' team manager again for this game. Which means I gotta lose enough weight to fit into the uniform shirt again...which I was barely able to do last time. Ah well, people will be distracted by my captain's hat anyway! Ha!


I love the city council district the LA Derby Dolls are in. They actually like us. They like us so much, they put up a blog entry about us for last week's Treasures of Los Angeles award ceremony.

Getting this award is a Big Deal for us. It gives us credibility in the city's eyes, and that's a Very Good Thing for when we have to search for our next digs...which we'll have to do this year at some point. Bleh.

At the awards ceremony we got to wear skates at the Bonaventure Hotel, eat free food and drink free wine in the VIP area, hang out with our city councilman, Eric Garcetti, meet and greet local newscaster Jim Hill, talk with and take photos with LA Police Chief Bratton, and hit up boxer Oscar de la Hoya for some fancy footwork lessons. As an added bonus, we got to grab all the reusable insulated shopping bags that were given as freebies as we could carry, along with an orchid centerpiece or three. A good day, to be sure!

Here's a photo(taken by famous LA photographer Gary Leonard) taken of all of us during the ceremony when Demolicious accepted the award. Top row: LA Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa, Demolicious, City Council President Eric Garcetti. Middle row: Krissy Krash, Myna Threat, Roxy Cotton, Kaboom, Juana Beat'n, some jerkface. Bottom row: Brandi Iron, Sniperella, Mila Minute, PITA.

















Next week I start another round of Freelance Fun, so maybe there will be less derby blathering here.

Lazy...

I'm either very uninspired or very lazy to write much here.

Or I'm lazily uninspired.

Uninspiredly lazy?

Whatever.

All I know is that if I'm not working, I'm skating. When I'm not skating, I'm working. Sounds kinda boring to me.

So instead, enjoy some random photos:

Quick Note...

This morning I'm riding my bicycle to the track to help out with Subpool tryouts.

Oh joy!

Lately I've been having problems with the little toe on my right foot. It's amazing how one tiny little digit can cause a whole LOTTA pain, but there it is. It started at Blood & Thunder camp, where I did a lot of skating, and a lot of switching of surfaces between the banked track and the flat track. For whatever reason, the inside of my skate boot decided to rub up and annoy my little toe, and it's been very painful ever since. SUUUUUUUCKS to be me.

Two weeks ago we flew up to the Bay Area to celebrate my dad's 70th birthday with a really nice brunch in Walnut Creek. It was great hanging out with the parental units and stuffing ourselves stoopid. We flew up to SFO on Virgin America airlines. They're the Hipster Airline. Nice mood lighting, amusing safety video, the ability to chat with other passengers on computers mounted to the back of every seat and the gayest flight attendants EVAR. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

GirlsDrawinGirls has a booth at Comicon again this year. We're not doing a book, but we're putting together a calendar. I'm doing the month of June, and I'm proud to say that I've actually started working on it in Illustrator already. It should be muy cute.

Here's some photos from last Saturday's game in our spiffy new uniforms. Aren't we cute?






















































Well, some are cuter than others. I'm in the latter category.

OWCh

I'm very sore after Saturday's game.

In a good way, for the most part.

No real bruising, no broken bones, no torn ligaments. Just an insane amount of soreness in my upper arms/shoulders from SLAMMING THE LIVING BEJEEZUS out of skaters at the game.

Unfortunately for Fight Crew, Timothy the mouse wasn't in full effect telling us that we could fly. So we lost. Mainly in the last five minutes of the game. Frustrating. I thought that I myself skated well, but I'll have to wait until I see the video of the game to make sure.

Speaking of video, check out the rad game intro from the LADD RaD(Research and Development)group from Saturday's game. To say they keep outdoing themselves doesn't begin to cover it:



Next, finishing up the latest round of freelance and figuring out how I'm going to get through the skating schedule for the next two and a half months. I'm on four teams. FOUR FUCKING TEAMS. That's just STOOPID.

What It Takes...

I've been thinking a great deal about what it takes mentally to win at roller derby.

One would think it doesn't take much, but I'm finding more and more that this game is ALLLL mental, with just a smidge of talent.

Much like Dumbo.

As a diversion, I'll talk about Dumbo for a moment. It's one of the very few Disney movies that I can stomach. Compared to other Disney films of the general era, it was done on the cheap, which appeals to my Warner Bros. sensibilities.

My parents got me the Dumbo storybook LP when I was but a small child, and I would listen to the LP over and over and over again. Pink Elephants on Parade was of course my favorite part. The other fave section was Dumbo with the crows. Pure genius.





And that's where roller derby comes in. I haven't found the magic feather that will make me fly. And I shouldn't need one, but I do.

Looking at game footage from this season shows me that my team has what it takes to win. But we let the little things get to us, and that's when we lose the magic feather. I don't know how to grab Timothy the mouse in time to reassure me that yes, you can fly! YOU CAN FLY! YOU CAN FLY!!!!!!

But we'll try again and see what happens. Hopefully we won't wait until we're jumping out of the prop burning building to find out that our flying abilities are just fine, thank you very much.

This Saturday

Promo for this Saturday's game:



There's still some VIP tickets left, as well as a smattering of general admission. The next time I skate banked won't be until the end of JUNE.

A Quick Note...

I'm in the middle of yet more freelance. Which is good.

Saturday I was the team manager for ACDG, and got this special note from the refs before the game even started:




















Yep, I'm so bad, I get ejected out of games that I'm not even skating in, for leagues that I'm not a member of!

GO, ME!

7 Year Bitch

It's official, I won't be working on any more talking Great Dane stuff anytime soon.

There's been a regime change, and the idio--I mean, very talented folks put in charge of ALL creative endeavors at the studio wouldn't hire me on a dare. I don't really know for sure why they don't like me, all I know is that they don't.

Grrrrr.

Kinda weird...I've worked on talking Great Dane stuff of one sort or another for seven years. It became as dependable as the sun rising in the east for me. But I started to figure out in January that it was really dark outside; the sun had ceased to rise for me on that particular franchise. It makes me sad for a variety of reasons. I didn't particular love the franchise, but I loved working with the crew. And I love the studio. Yeah, it's masochistic, but it's true. I'm gonna miss it.

Anyway, this post via Cartoon Brew cracked me up. Enjoy while I mope.

Quote of the Day

From Baltimore's Charm City league, this great observation from Cindy Lop-her:

I guess it just goes to show that people are watching you, even when you feel far away from being watched, and at any given point in time you can be someone else’s role model. Shit, if that isn’t a reason to live your life with integrity, I don’t know what is.

It's in a derby context, and you can read the whole blog entry here, but it sure as shit should apply to everyone, no?

Before and After

This week I've been on-call to go downtown for potential jury selection. Monday and Tuesday I got off free, but Wednesday morning will find me sleepily wandering around on Temple St. looking for the right courthouse to report in at 7:45am.

7:45am.

That's just inhuman for a night owl like me.

At least I don't have work this week, and I can't imagine that any attorney would be stupid enough to put me on a jury, so it's worth losing a little sleep over. Hell, I haven't been sleeping well anyway.

I has another game coming up! I designed a poster for it:





















Art Department co-head Ryder Hard said, That's OK, but this is better:




















I have to agree! I like how she took my pseudo-new wave attempt and made it look old school east LA boxing poster-esque.

My team FINALLY got new uniforms, too. We look purty(well, most of us. At a recent photo shoot showing off our new threads, I look like a transvestite. SRSLY)! I think we'll do well in this next game.

So mark yer calendars: Saturday, March 28! See me skate!!!!!

Moar fun stuff: I'm on the flat track Ri-Ettes all-star team!! We'll be skating in the Big One tournament in mid-May, which features California leagues Angel City, BAD Girls, Sac City, Sacred City, and...LA!! We're uber stoked about this, because as far as I know it's the first time a banked track league has been invited to skate in a flat track tournament!

I'm also an alternate again for the banked track Ri-Ettes this year. Why the discrepancy between the flat track and banked track versions of the roster? Not all the Ri-Ettes wanted to skate flat. Win for me! And frankly, I find B teams to be more fun anyway. Though I do hope to go to this year's Battle on the Bank tournament in Austin this June in any capacity possible.

Welp, I gotta go get ready for my early rising tomorrow, as well as getting together something resembling a lesson plan for this weekend's Blood & Thunder camp in San Diego that I'm supposed to be coaching at. Lourdy!

You Need This...

Yeah, you really do, 'cos Hurricane Ken says so. Check it out and bid on it here.

Bait and Switch

Here's a rough drawing I did while in the latest round of Freelance Hell:





















Probably won't end up using it for anything, but oh well. She has a nice butt.

Lately I've been pondering the direction of the new wave of roller derby. Especially since I don't want to start to contemplate the fuckedness that is my choice of day career. I'm skeered to death on that front.

Anyway...

On one of the rad sites I frequent, there's been a lot of discussion about mainstreaming the sport in various ways.

Which is ironic, since one of the greatest appeals of the new wave of derby(hell, just derby in general)is that it's not a mainstream sport. OK, I'm SO NOT SAD that the penalty wheel isn't used by most leagues...in fact, I'm SO DAMN GLAD that my league never did it. It takes away from the pacing of the game, and ironically, it generally doesn't make the players look good.

It's interesting to see more and more leagues go from a very loose interpretation of the concept of a team uniform to seeing everyone not only in the same uniform, but just having numbers on the backs of their volleyball jerseys, without the names to go with it. This drove me nuts while watching the WFTDA Nationals over the interwebs, since me and many other people who tuned in don't know all of the players from all of the leagues skating. The sport isn't there yet, people. I'd like to be able to see both name and number so that I can identify and identify with the skaters.

Which brings me to my grandest of sadness: the decision by a small but growing amount of skaters to stop using "skate names".

I love my skate name. And even though everyone says that my skate name is really just little ol' me, I need the separation of Tara Armov from the rest of my brain. Tara's even more angry than I am, and I've had to admit to myself that by nature I'm an angry person. I have to be angry about something to function. Tara is a way to channel that rage into something somewhat constructive. And I think a lot of derby players need that separation, too.

Why?

Here's my theory...let's look at the average coverage of new wave derby. It's mostly comprised of, "calm, meek librarian by day, wild rollergirl by night". The ol' madonna/whore syndrome. Society still has issues about its wimmins being loud, brutal, and able to take care of their own business.

I think the skate names offer a "safe place" to let out the agression women otherwise aren't "allowed" to have. Well, the entire sport of new wave derby offers that, too. But the skate names add something...oh...I dunno...fun about it all. So does the not-quite-uniform uniforms.

And here's a secret about fun...one generally willing to work harder if they're having fun doing it, whether it's derby, day job, or whatever. TAKE NOTE OF THAT, all you companies out there that expect more work for less pay from your employees. You'd better at least make it fun, dammit.

Ahem...

Women can really tap into the fun aspects of this whole thing, and then can end up applying themselves to the sport when they get hooked on having their butts firm enough to set drinks on and endurance that'll compete with most men.

It's really a bait-and-switch. People hear about this derby stuff. They find out the skaters are women. And that the women have skate names that are usually puns and can be rather risque and wear non-typical uniforms. So these people come to games with a Playboy-influenced idea in their heads about what "roller derby" is like. Then the game starts, and by gawd, it's a REAL FUCKING GAME. These women are actually hitting the living bejeezus out of each other. And they're competing. With NO pillow-fights. And they're having FUN while doing it. OMFG. WHO KNEW?!?!?!?! Everyone's minds are BLOWN. Their minds have been tweaked just a tad...for the better.

And if it's a league that's able to add some production value with lights, good announcers, and a great venue...it's an EVENT. And people come away with a good impression of derby, and a good impression of the skaters, with a twist in its non-comformity of the usual sports on ESPN.

I think the current new wave derby is like early punk. It's shaking up perceptions of what playing a sport should be like. So to see those within derby wanting to go "mainstream", I think that takes away the very aspect of what makes derby the wonderful-horrible beast that it is. I never would've gotten involved in the sport if it were "mainstream".

Not that the sport would've suffered if my wondrous presence was absent, but it does make me wonder how many other amazing skaters wouldn't have gotten into it if everything about the sport was "mainstream"?

Well, all this thinking is making me tired, which isn't good since I have to go to practice and then drive to Bakersfield to do some announcing. Two things I wouldn't be doing if I wasn't involved in derby the way it is now. Wow, interesting to contemplate.

Yeah, I'm busy...

I'm in the homestretch on the current freelance.

In the meantime, lookit these:

Love Random Pix? Here's yet moar!

My hand is sore from drawing so much. As I scan away, here's some more stoopid stuff to look at:

Moar Random Pix

Random Pix

Still on ugly deadline. So here's some random photos.

Enjoy!

Cranky

Yes, I'm cranky.

This monkey was the first image that comes up when one googles "cranky", but he looks more pensive than cranky.
















This kid has cranky down better.



















This is so NOT cranky. Too pretty to be cranky:






















Bleh. I want to be non-cranky for once.

Really.

New Teams

In case you don't have plans in LA next weekend, check this out:




No, I'm not skating in this one...hopefully I'll be able to watch and "coach" from the floor.

VDay '09

Thought:





















Execution:





















Used some new brushpens that I picked up on Friday. The black line was done with a Copic Sketch Too. I really liked using it. I also picked up a little bag o' colored brush pens made by Faber-Castell. The pens themselves were OK, but the colors didn't make much sense...they were kinda pastel, kinda primary, and overall kinda lame. So I had to go back in with my dying marker set to help out the final result.

Now I'm off to search for a white shirt so that I can go to a scrimmage in Newport Beach. Then I gotta work. Yayyyyy...

Crass Glasses

This is the reason why I needed new glasses. The old ones were...OK. And by "OK" I mean, "Well, I've seen worse...on a dead and mangled hooker who was missing her head."




















I thought it was neat when I got the old glasses frames ten fucking years ago that they matched my hair color perfectly. Now, not so much. And the shape? Yawn. I bore myself into a coma. I look like an angry, boring librarian.

So Monday I went shopping for new glasses.

What.

A.

NIGHTMARE.

First, there's my prescription. I have a stigmatism in both eyes. And I'm nearsighted on top of that. You know what that means? Yep, Coke-bottle-lenses. I am living proof that guys don't make passes at girls who wear glasses if they're actually blind.

Then there's my ugly mug. I have a long, narrow-yet-square-jawed face, and so most glasses look weirdly huge on me. The bug-eyed Paris Hiltonesque sunglasses? Um, NO. Even if I could afford them, I wouldn't be able to wear them due to severe retardation on my part. And my eyes are close together. Couple that with a nearsighted stigmatism, and you have eyes that virtually disappear behind the lenses. NOT A GOOD LOOK.

And last but not least, I think the only people eyeglass designers want to design for are Tina Fey and Sarah Palin. I don't think they're one in the same, but they may as well be considering the selection...or lack thereof...I had to choose from.

Imagine if you will, a big schlumpy redhead who's squinting a lot because she can't fucking see in an eyeglass store. She has her prescriptions for her new contact lenses and glasses in her sweaty paws, she's set to burn the credit card for said new contacts and glasses...and she hates almost every pair of glasses she tries on.

The salespeople wisely stayed out of the way. I trumped through the store, carrying four, five, six pairs of frames at a time, trying them on one after the other, whipping them off my face in frustration. Too big. Weird color. Doesn't sit on my nose right. Doesn't sit on my ears right. Fits crooked. Too small. Dang, why do those wire-frames not come in a nice, sturdy plastic version?

I was in there for well over an hour.

Then finally, I narrowed the search down to three pairs.

Then two.

Then one.


TA-DAAAAAAAAAA!!




















Earth-shatteringly cool, aren't they?

OK, maybe not.

To be honest, I don't know if I like the new glasses any better than the old ones. The new ones are certainly more interesting than the old ones. They have a nice tortoise-shell pattern on the front and have cute lil' rhinestone thingys on the earpieces.

The overall shape? I'm not totally sold on it. They may be a little too sharp for me. I doubt if I'll leep these babies ten years like I did the last pair.

I'm amused that they happen to be made by Juicy Couture. First, I neverNEVEREVER thought I'd buy anything by that brand. Second, my sister does travel for the owner/founder/president/whatever, so she gets free purses from them all the time. And they're apparently worth bank. I probably could've asked to see if I could get the frames direct from them for cheep!




















So now I look like a slightly less boring angry librarian.

But I still look like a librarian.

With designer frames.
Ugh.


But I got a swank carrying case:
















Complete with swank cloth to wipe clean said Coke-bottle lenses.
















But hey, at least I can see!

Birthday

Yesterday was the Husband's birthday. It was low-key for the most part...he had a party on Saturday that went on til 3am, but other than that, he kept himself on the dl.

Since Hurricane Ken has been attempting to tutor me in all things Fink, I decided to put his advice into action by doing this:

















It got the Hurricane Ken stamp of approval, so I'm stoked. And even the Husband liked it! OH JOY!

Blustery

This morning I woke up to darkness and rain. This afternoon the wind has kicked in and it's bright and sunny albeit very damn cold outside.

I think I prefer the rain, though either way I'm going in for a semi-annual eye exam this afternoon. The horrible part of that is where I'm going to shop for new eyeglass frames. It's been about...uh...eleven years since I've done that. It's not that my current eyeglasses are so damn flattering(though they match my hair color perfectly), it's just impossible to find eyeglass frames that will work with both the shape of my face and my horrible eye prescription.

I'm blind as a bat and I have stigmatism in both eyes. Which means the glasses prescription makes my tiny little eyes virtually disappear behind the lenses. NOT A GOOD LOOK.

So I'm happy to be ordering new contacts, but the glasses...oy. Expect to read about my extensive whining about that later.

In the meantime, enjoy some goofy photos that were taken of a bunch of us from Rink Rash Skatewear modeling the latest in really cool t-shirts:























































Ok, I'm totally stoked that in this last photo it looks like the Tarametrics and burpees have been paying off for me! Woohoo! I don't know about the whole smiling thing, though.

Allegedly these photos will appear in some European fashion mag. No, SRSLY.

I'm laughing, too.

Quick and Dirty

As I've talked about before, the LiveJournal photo feed is a fascinating and occasionally scary and VERY NSFW place. But sometimes I'll find something save-worthy.

A couple weeks ago I found a photo of a skanky-looking woman that was intriguing. She looked skanky mainly because of her hair and makeup and the tramp stamp just above her butt...and the fact that she had her g-string down around her knees. However, the pose was nice, so I drew it:




















I cleaned her up pretty good, trust me.


I have this week off from work so that my tiny little brain can recover. Thinking is hard for me, people.

So I get to clean the house and pet the various cats that hang around...there's my own and of course the king of the backyard, Kitty. Yes, Kitty is a boy. Now there's the LouC-alike hanging around, whom I call Puddy Tat. I'm SO original, I know, but if the damn cat answers to the name, what am I gonna do? Puddy Tat belongs to the Beavisphere. Yeah, scary. It's surprising Puddy Tat is as friendly as he is(I'm assuming he's a he), though the Husband can't get near him. Or near Kitty, for that matter.

LouC hates Kitty. He yowls incessantly when he sees Kitty strutting his stuff outside. But he's fascinated with Puddy Tat, since LouC and Puddy Tat look so similar. Puddy Tat's smaller and slinkier, but other than that, he's a dead ringer for LouC. When the sliding door is open, LouC and Puddy Tat will sit and stare at each other nose-to-nose through the screen door until either Kitty chases Puddy Tat off or LouC gets spooked for one reason or another. It's cute for now.

I predict one of these days either Kitty or Puddy Tat will be stupid enough to try to come into the house when we least expect it. LouC will shit. Literally. All over the floor.

Can't wait.

Chain Reaction

From the Season Opener. Enjoy:





The ironic thing is, my hit was ill-timed. If Lusty hadn't tripped over Maiven after I hit Maiven, Lusty probably could've gotten by me when I was all distracted in pairing back up with Broadzilla.

Ha!

Oh, and guess who just had her five year involved-in-roller-derby anniversary? THIS GUY!!

What a weird, strange trip it's been.