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Risky Pictures

Mandy Panda is an Animaltown character who represents my wife. She is from the Pandalore Islands and speaks Pandalog as well as English and a little bit of Spanish. With her on my laundry basket is my middle son, Henry Panda. Both of them are in their paper doll Avatar form.

Albert loves reading in the nude. He does it whenever he can be alone in Dad’s home library. Here he is reading his personal copy of Watership Down. Of course, he has noticed that all the main characters in that book are naked. They don’t wear clothes at any time in any chapter. He has also noticed that they are almost all rabbits, one seagull, and some cats… all naked!

This is a tattooed, red-headed lady with evil intentions. This is a risky picture that my wife didn’t want me to draw, let alone post here.

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Animal Town in Daylight

This is a place I explore in cartoons and daydreams.  It is a little town known as Animal Town for fairly obvious reasons.  It is populated by silly anthropomorphic animals who wear clothes and keep naked people as pets.

Animal Town

Animal Town is one of the all-time silliest places to visit in the cartoon dreamland of Fantastica.

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Mandy Panda and little brother Dandy are my constant companions and guides when I tour the dangerous streets of wild Animal Town.  In my cartoons, Mandy is an immigrant from the Pandalore Islands.  She is also the cartoon version of my wife.

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Three of the Town’s most important head monkeys.

It was Mandy who introduced me to the government officials who run Animal Town.  Judge Moosewinkle is the head of the Animal Town court system.  He is a hanging judge, so I am very careful about littering and loitering when I am in town.

Constable Geoffrey Giraffe does all the arresting and police work.  He used to work in a toy store, but quit his job there when he couldn’t get them to stop writing the R backwards on all their signs.  Grammar infractions annoy him more than any other crime.

Linus the Kitten-Hearted is the mayor of Animal Town.  They wanted to crown him as king, but he always says that’s only for when he’s in the jungle.  In town he prefers to be a democratically elected leader.  Of course, if you refuse to vote for him, he might eat you.

Most of my dreams in Animal Town are about the school there.

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                                                                                                                                                         Yes, this is a yearbook picture from Animal Town Elementary School.

Miss Ancient’s Class of 5th graders is usually rather rowdy and difficult.  You may have noticed there is a bare bear in the old buzzard’s class.  The fact is, the bears in Animal Town are all naturists and refuse to wear clothes.  This disturbs poor Miss
Ancient greatly, and it is therefore a real godsend that a fig leaf just happened to be drifting down through the air at the time this picture was made.  Bobby Bare is not shy, but some things are better not put into a cartoon.

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                                                                                                                                                   Yes, this is another yearbook picture. And I am in it twice, since Mr. Reluctant Rabbit is also me.

As a visitor to Animal Town, Cissy Bare took me to Mr. Rabbit’s class as her pet for show and tell.  She is also a bare bear, and she also benefited from a passing leaf at picture time. You may notice students putting rabbit ears behind each other’s heads in pictures… something that human children do too in real life.  But when I study this picture, I can’t help but think that maybe Mr. Rabbit started it.  Now, Animal Town is located in Fantastica, a part of the Dreamlands.  So that sort of explains how I ended up in school naked.  My dreams are like that.  You are in school in the middle of lessons before you realize that haven’t got a single stitch of clothing on.

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When I am inevitably charged with public indecency for being in school naked, I can turn to Animal Town lawyer Woolbinkle Moosewinkle.  He is totally incompetent and not very bright, but unlike most of the animals, he is friendly and on my side.  Spot Firedog is a Dalmatian who knows how to use a newspaper.  He is a reporter, publisher, and all-around good dog.  He wrote an expose on me being naked in the Animal Town Elementary school.

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Big Bull Beefalo runs the local hamburger emporium, which might seem like collusion to cannabalism, but Bull is a very gentle and very large soul.  He is himself a vegetarian, but he is a gifted fry cook and chef.  I can go to his restaurant when I get out of jail, though hopefully not as food.

So, Animal Town is a very different kind of place.  It is the result of dreams and goofiness and uncontrolled spurts of cartoonist creativity.  It is a cartoon sort of place where spontaneous and random humor happens.

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More Digital Art Practice

I like drawing classrooms. This is a British schoolroom, possibly a photo from the Harry Potter movies. I think the girl in the middle is Emma Watson. This was made from a small internet photo and my eyesight is having setbacks from aging and glaucoma. I can’t be sure the colors are right either.

This picture has an interesting brick wall pattern to play with. I think in pink and purple, but I can’t be sure it’s not brown and gray instead. I do know that Ashlynn likes to show off her wardrobe that never seems to keep her belly button warm. Which is alright with me. And I am not using her real name here, or even making it look like her. Nobody is going to find her on TikTok based on this drawing.

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A Day Late and a Chocolate Egg Short

Eggsy Chocobunny has arrived a day late.

“Late for what?” You ask.

“For the Bunnies with chocolate eggs in their wicker baskets full of plastic grass. It is Eater Day yesterday,” he answers.

“Didn’t you leave the S out of EASTER?” you shout.

“What do you mean? How does Easter make more sense than Eater? Kids everywhere eat chocolate eggs and other candy on this holiday!”

Well, you can’t actually argue with Eggsy because he is profoundly stupid.

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The April Fool

I am a fool. I am a fool who tells stories. The stories are made up of lies about things that never happened to people who don’t really exist. But I am good at it. I have had a few successes with a few readers. I have even won awards that don’t translate into earning any money. Ah, well. A fool gets what he deserves. And though they are lies… my stories are always about things that should be true. You can tell the real truth with real lies.

Grandma Gretel in this book is based on a real woman and holocaust survivor I knew as a boy. It is one of my best books because I tell lies about the twin girls who told me they were nudists, a brave old grandma who survived Nazis in World War II, and fairies I believed in as a child and once were real to me.

Another book that I consider one of my best is full of lies about fairies and a teacher I once knew whose classes were more like her own children than mere students, even though she never had a child of her own. And she faced troubles in keeping her job that teachers actually face in the modern classroom.
I consider this one to be the finest story I have ever composed. It is full of lies about a killer blizzard that I experienced two different times in my childhood. Once in grade school and once in high school. And the children who survive this blizzard are all based on kids I actually taught during my teaching career. Definitely filled with lies, but lies that bare the scars of real experiences.

These are all book links to Amazon, just in case you are fool enough to want to buy any of these lies. You can’t go wrong reading wisdom from a fool who doesn’t know anything. Knowing you know nothing is the beginning of wisdom.

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The Girl and the Golden Horse

Use the comments to tell me what this story is about. Who is she? Why the golden horse? What happens. I promise I won’t steal your idea. I will probably write my own in the future.

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Kookoo Pix

There are many goofy people on social media. Here are a few of my own interpretations of a few of them. Starting with these twins. Did you know they are naked under their clothes? They assured me that if they took off their clothes, they would be naked. I didn;t let them prove it. You can’t do that on Facebook and Instagram.

This is Mel. Short for Melanie, I think. She is goofy enough to wear sunglasses indoors. She insists, however, that they are “shades,” not sunglasses.

Mel has intensely blue eyes. She can look right through you and see what’s inside you. At least she thinks she can. She can’t read my mind. Too many cobwebs and bats in there.

This is one of my best works of fiction. You can use this link to check it out.

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The Perfect Picture

Of course, there is no such thing as a perfect picture. I struggled with the fingers on this one. I made it from a photograph. And the photo only showed three visible fingers on each hand. The pointer finger on each hand is tucked behind the rest of the hands with the thumbs. They make Susu look like a cartoon character. So I tried extra hard to suggest what you can’t see. I had to make the right-hand pointer finger extra long to show the tip in shadow underneath. And then the stupid AI editor made the left hand flip the bird… but with the ring finger… So I had to redraw that even though it was the wrong finger for that. It looked stupid. AI can be very stupid.

But Susu likes it. I should say, however, that Susu is imaginary. She exists in my mind to take the place of the grandchild I lost to an ectopic pregnancy resolved before the Supreme Court made fixing the problem illegal and threatened the life of the poor mother. But Susu makes it easier to live with the loss, and everything that makes her happy is a pure healing miracle for my troubled mind.

“Take my hand, Grandpa. Let’s go take a walk in the park.”

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Never Give Up, Never Surrender

I have lately been feeling like the Grim Reaper is lurking somewhere near again. Can I whip him in a game of chess again? Debatable.

Derfentwinkle, the Necromancer’s Apprentice, turned out to be a good student.

As a teacher, I have always been one of those who sincerely believes,

You must never give up on any student. They all can learn. They are all worth teaching.

And reflecting on that philosophy, in spite of the fact that I have been having a hard time getting things done and writing very little, I should not give up on myself.

I am not yet done telling my story. There is more to do, and more life to live.

Here’s the book about a teacher who doesn’t give up on a student and is proven right the hard way.

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New Directions, New Ideas

Up until now I have been doing little but writing stories and working on getting a lot of them into a published form. Admittedly a self-published form. For the most part, I am the only reader who knows how good my writing is. Well, there’s an editor from I-Universe who thinks I am as good as many authors on the best-seller lists. Not better than… as good as. And the editorial and marketing staff at PDMI Publishing (a publisher now out of business for over eight years) know how good my novel Snow Babies is. And a lot of nudists here, in England, in France, and in Germany know how good Recipes for Gingerbread Children is. But my reputation is tiny and the splash I have made is limited to puddles.

If the literary agent I have been talking to actually gets my book Catch a Falling Star republished by a major publishing house, things will change for the better. However, the current marketplace still puts most of the burden on the authors to promote and make their books succeed. The only difference would be having an agent on my side instead of me doing it all with no one on my side.

Most of the best writing I have done includes strongly realized female characters. Particularly Valerie Clarke, the female protagonist of Snow Babies. Good writing builds on previous writing. I may have already written the best things I am capable of writing. But as I continue to write, I can deepen characters that already have been established. And I can add new ones. For example, the character depicted in the Paffooneys of this post is Charlotte Robbins. She is a complex young lady with an anger management problem. She is also Valerie Clarke’s hated rival, one who beats her out for head cheerleader, but only because Valerie quits cheerleading in her senior year. She is destined to become Valerie’s best friend somehow in the course of my manuscript He Rose on a Golden Wing.

Of course, none of that happens if one of my health problems croaks me before my 70th birthday. I don’t mean to end on a downward note when everything has been looking up. But there it is, in spite of myself.

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