Foray into Young Derfs Mind #1

It occurs to me I've something like 300 old ass drawings from the mind of Derfs of Christmas past and thought hey! What a great way to waste peoples time without actually putting any real work in! That said, let's try to understand what the fuck was going on in Young Derfs head by examining the scrawlings left behind:

Okay...okay. Dude was a bit of a miserable cunt, wasn't he? Or he really liked sandwiches and cursed the genius who invented sliced bread. Man, how fucked up would it be if bread had eyes. I'd still eat it probably, but at the end of the day the act would eat at me so I think it all balances out. What's next.

Alrighty. One might deduce that he was shit at word spacing and spelling. I'm not even sure that's a goldfish either. Onwards!

 

Okay, this kid clearly read too much Jhonen Vasquez. Get your own style, and learn how to draw hands you fucking pleb.

Now we're getting somewhere. That left nipple looks way off but who am I to begrudge wonky, headless boobs? Fuck me, that might be the worst thing I've ever said. Alright, this shit is getting upsetting so let's do one more and call it a day.

That's more like it! I wonder if that dive into portraits was to make up for the headless scribbles of days long past. Whatever the case, Young Derf clearly had a problem with photography and image cropping. Should we tack on a half-hearted message to the younguns of this generation? I think yes. Ahem.

Dear chitlins of the world,

        If you ever feel like your skill is not progressing in your chosen interest, it's because you're expecting results too fucking soon ya little fucks! Give that shit time and maybe one day you'll find you came a long way from doom driven bread and end up pumping out headless boobed creatures like me. 

 

No wait, that's shit. Le me start over:

Dear chitlins of the world,

        If you ever feel daunted by the world around you saying what you're capable of right now is not enough, fear not! One night, a headless boobed creature will wander into your bedroom window while you're trying to sleep and BRING YOU THE SEXY DEATH!

Hmm...no, that's no good either. Third times the charm:

Dear chitlins of the world,

       Never let anyone tell you what you were born to do. Say FUCK YOU to the town criers prattling on about things requiring natural talent. Whatever you choose to do, it'll be as great as the effort you put into it so don't ever find yourself half assing your passions. Because it's not just you you're doing a disservice, it's a disservice to the world. Log your 10,000 hours and be the big fuckers you little fuckers wanna be. If you don't, a headless boobed creature will fucking cut you. Aight? 

 

Love,

         Derf McDerf

Mr. President, we need to talk about Nimona

Good morrow, fair internet! It is I, that most procrastinatey of bastards, Derf. And I'm here to say!...

Shit, guys. I'm sorry I've put so little effort into this thing. There haven't been any impeding circumstances behind this neglect either, unless you count your run-of-the-mill lack of faith in ones own works. I'M A WALKING WORK IN PROGRESS, BACK OFF MAN!

Rest assured, in my own arty absence I've found other ways to kill your time while I struggle to convince myself any of those sketches from that pile in the corner are worth posting, and one of those ways is to point you toward more dedicated artists who definitely deserve some love. 

That said, feast your looking balls on the wonder that is Nimona.

It's a lovely bit of magic created by the blood goddess, Noelle Stevenson(may not actually be a blood goddess but a man can dream, can't he?) that showcases an adorable art style and an almost offensively charismatic take on the subject of villainy.

The story initially seems to revolve around the halfhearted villain Ballister Blackheart, who as you can imagine must get through a fairly good cross section of nameless henchmen and women in his campaign against the absurdly golden blonde, Ambrosius Goldenloin. Until he pairs up with Nimona, that is. 

This lovable little shape-shifting lump of nightmares acts as a catalyst to Ballisters career, which is tenuous at best, and from there the whole sweater just unravels into a delightful pile of warm, villainous reading. If you need anymore than that to send you on your way, there's no helping you. Check it out though. Seriously. That little shape-shifting creature is fantastic, as is Noelle Stevensons equally transforming art style that seems to maintain its trademark charm throughout.

Now I'm just going to...slink out the back. Pay no mind. I'm doing things. I swear I am. Maybe. Shut up.

Sincerely,

               Derf McDerf

ps: are Blood Goddess' a real thing? They should be.