Basic masonism.

Every single god damn character in the hunger games.

Hide yo wife, hide yo kids. They drawin everybody out there. 

Man, this crap is just like the table of genders. I keep adding and adding stuff to it and it still isn't right!

AAAAAAAAAAGHDHAGHKHAGDHA!!!!!!!!!!

NOT FUCKING KIDDING! I FINALLY GOT IT AFTER ALMOST A YEAR OF WAIT! It just arrived and I learned it's not about Mags as I thought. Apparently president Snow is gonna be a mentor in the tenth hunger games? For the female 12 tribute? That's cartainly weird as heck. Anyway I'll get on this one tonight and see what happens. I'll keep you masonian updated, but don't expect me to be quick. It's probably the last lick of hunger games purity I'm getting, and I want to enjoy it for at least a month. I'll just keep on uploading shit comics and stuff as I read it and then have a conclusion. I'M SO FUCKING EXCITED!!!

  Okay, so I'm not done yet, but I've reached part two and this is all I've got to say:

FOR THE RECORD:
 I WAS THE FIRST ONE EVER TO DRAW LUCY GRAY BAIRD

more of my crap.

I have already signed my marriage contract to Nicholas Wilholm, you squints. Though deep down he belongs to Lukey-Lu and viceversa. I'm a masoquist.

sloooow dance with you... iiii just wanna slowwww dance with youuuu... i know all the other boys are tough and smooth and i've got the blues, i wanna slowwww dance with you. oh my god this is so gay i don't even care about adding caps.

i don't know what to dooo without youuu, i don't know where to put my haaands, i've been trying to lay my head dooooown but i'm writing this at threee a m, and i don't need the world to see that i've been the best i can be, but i don't think i could stand to be where you don't see me... jesus i crave for
gayness.

there goes the whorish one of the lisbon family. i actually dislike her, but she kinda screwed nicholas wilholm's alter-ego so she deserves a surreal portrait.

"you left me".
"i didn't mean to, you wouldn't go with me".
"you should have forced me. you were supposed to force me. it was your duty".
"how could i? you wanted to stay and save them all. you belonged there after all".
"do you think they deserve to be saved? that place is full of the worst of the worst. i belong outside, in the clean world".
"i know".
"one time or another he'll be returning. and who do you think will get the blame when he realizes you're not here? i don't think he's exactly the one to have very strong family bonds".
"he won't do anything to you. he's somewhat protecting you from the others, he's done it all your life, so why would he be the one to harm you?"
"you know he can. you know he would".
"yeah, i do. listen, i swear i'll find the way to get you out. i got... people with me right now. big ones. i'm sure we can do something about it".
"you better. and it better be soon".
"you hang on in there. hide somewhere. soon as you notice you'll be elsewhere with me, 'kay?"
"i'm hoping so. see you".
"bye".

  so the whole of my hope in life this year was divided in a) going to london in the summer and b) winning a literature contest. a) gonna be hard after all crap that's been on, and i got the results for b) this morning. it appears like i'll go back to depending on fictional couples to hold me in this land, babbie.

  So I saw some fellas playing basketball at a park's court. Me and my slavie (commonly referred to as friend) started fangirling over them and shortly became genuinely interested in their private lives. They were all topless and absolutely useless at the game. Obviously the first idea that came up to my mind was to nickname, picturize and sodomize them all! Consequently here I honor to present the Shirtless Baskets: a cheap, plotless piece of stalker fantasy that is definitely not a gay callback to west side story. 

Reloader.

  So the idea of making comics is recently a come-and-go in my mind. That's, I've decided to make just one post that I'll keep reloading until it's full enough to be considered a comic bang post.

I'm alive.

Just partially alive, but still. I'm here, live and drawing... a little apart from my dear games since I discovered the hallucinogen of PINTEREST, with which I've been fangirling, stalking and having monoparental attacks over several fandoms. However, I'm mostly unchanged: Joha's boss, Peeta's love, and I was caught stealing a yellow marker 'cause I really wanted it and I couldn't have possibly known that black ball thing was a 360 degree camera.

By the way, being officially in the H13YO cathegory of people, I have already pre-ordered my very own copy of ballad of songbirds and snakes that comes out aproximately six months from now. Do I care it's not in my mother tongue, and so I won't be able to get that natural, fresh sensation of innocence and cluelessness before the plot? Absolutely not. In the deepest, it aches, because I still can feel those summer nights when my heart cringed and swelled with the perfectly recognizable, perfectly understandable... spanish words of the first three books... oh, no... it's coming... 

¡¡¡VIVA ESPAÑA, COÑO!!! 

Yeet, what a tongue of mine. 

You don't choose thirteen life, thirteen life chooses you.

  I just adore bald Johanna. She's cuter than usual about everything (especially Finnick). By the way, I just woke up from Finnick slumbers. How odd, I barely think of Finnick. That's actually the best part of weekends, isn't it? Being able to dream. I was in a kind of shelter in the middle of a huge pool and he was running from me 'cause I wanted to enclose him down in some weird Tartarus. Whatever, here's your stuff.

I actually read more books.

  Yeah, well, discounting the fact I only enjoy books that share a catastrophic amount of similarities with the hunger games, I do read other ones! So I just came across the second volume of this britty-ass chickie Vic James' dark gifts series, and then realized that some years ago I had actually read the first one. So I looked for it in the Shelf of In and Never Out, and it was freaking there! Half its way to rot, because I remember reading the two thirds of it on top of a tree and the other third on a train, but it was freaking there! The case is, I read it again and damn it looked like the hunger games! I mean, apart from the dystopia-young slavitude-rebellion thing that seems to be in every single BFH13YO (books for hormoned thirteen-year-olds), there's this girl Renie that is fucking Rue. Even the names look the same! Anyway, I'm glad to finally get interested in something that's actually ongoing, and not dead as Finnick...
  So I made a sum-up of the first book gilded cage while I bored my guts out inside a classroom.

  November 22nd update: I'm back! I went through the second book now, and I have to say it was a little less family-friendly than the first one. I mean, I was in a website where some girl asked the author about blood and dirty thingies in the gilded cage, and she actually replied assuring there wasn't almost anything that a 13-year-old couldn't stand. Well, it seems like that clean facade went down with tarnished city, because oh boy was it dirty... Stands out whatever company publishing those books can't leave a trilogy hanging. She took advantage of that, surely.
  However, anyone that has read just one of my comics knows I'm not afraid to draw blood, so there it goes.
 P.S.: just saying, I managed to fit thirty-one boiis in one crap quarter of a paper sheet. I rock.
 P.P.S.: please silyen stop cutting yourself.

  December 12th update: I guess I'm now done with these boiis. I couldn't manage to find a spanish translation for the third book bright ruin so I got the original english one from the Archon of Mostly All Zillions of Objects Namable, aka Amazon. Yeah, this' why I haven't been drawing recently. Man, BFH13YOs hook me up like crazy! And, I must say, the ending for this one was just... precious. Say I hadn't surrendered all sort of human emotion to the Queen's hail years ago; I swear every dehydrating kid in the damn Salahari would've gotten their very own water park made from my tears. If I wasn't bottom-dipped into depression just yet, well there I head. Oh boy, I haven't shipped anything so hard since freaking johinnick, and if I had it was definitely not a gay couple... But it's not just the fact that they did kiss, but what happens right in the very last page... He... he... he goes with him... through the door!!! (okay that sounded less utterly irrelevant in my head) He sacrificed himself to wipe off power, but then... then he came back for him!!! And he left!!! He left forever with him!!!
  ¡¡¡Esto es peor que tobi el niño con alas!!!
  Gee, sorry.

  Oh, oh, just one last thing, I swear. I'm just mind collapsed with these books, but this will be the last one (lies).

¡¡¡ASÍ NOS LAS GASTAMOS EN MILLMOOR, ZORRA!!!

silyen has a healthcare fetish because i have assumed complete property of his character for my nightime fantasies

the preciousness of a boy kissing his dead brother's forehead. i'm perfectly sane.

these boys trynna play queens but they're gay af

heh, funny

someone please stop my comic rage

Soft kitty.

Gale keeps on screwing it.

  Just give up already, little fawn.

  I just had to make the easy joke, even though I haven't used any of those social chickie sites once.

Butterfly effect.

   Butterfly effect, apart from something everyone talks about when wanting to look cult, is a damn wicked curse in every single story plot. I mean, look at these until dawn (we love u rami) or life is strange (who cares bout that blue-headed bitchie) or life is strange two (marry me finn) honeybees, all dyin' around like stupid because you flipped yourself the wrong way while sleeping. Look at my hunger games, boy! Imagine, say, Haymitch hadn't upset Effie messing with her hair on the reaping, and thus she would've been in the mood to play with the boys' urn as she did the girls'. She would've stirred the slips and my good old Malarkey would've returned home that very afternoon, safe and sound. And what's the plot without him around? Katniss climbing trees and dying after Cato finally realises they can just burn the wasp tree down? Crappy. No love story. No rebellion. No Johanna. And all because Haymitch was not drunk enough to displace Effie's headset. See? Butterfly.

The Unnamable.

 Well, there's a good load of divine content for you, sweetie. I know, I know, it's intense. But I came with some stuff to lighten the hit. There you have the soft munchies.

Johinnick n stuff.

  Seriously, this ship is sickly adorable.

It's Mags time.

  You had any idea this was up? I've been hyping all summer, you know. And got some months to go yet... Still can't believe it's all about Mags. I mean... Mags? "The ballad of songbirds and snakes", I think it's called. And may you say it's not confirmed it's about Mags, but you just need to do the math to realize she was sixteen when the prequel took place. Sixteen. The wicked age of the reaping (boy, every victor was damn sixteen when they won, except for little Finnick).  I have reasons to believe it's all about her, and it's not what I would've expected. But I'm not gonna complain, since it will probably contain Finnick and Annie and Mason and Mason... and, well, most importantly, it will probably bring hunger games back to life! And I won't be alone anymore! And people will read my blog! No, maybe I've stepped over the line a little.

You realized that?

  Did you notice that, m'babbie? It certainly took me a while to figure out. Great Goddess Johanna was named after one of the Collins' edition dudes! Jeez, I just have to meet that guy someday... he better be at least an eighth part as great as the Queen to deserve her name! That's what you get for reading the acknowledgements, apart from the satisfaction to know that Katniss only had Peeta's babbies because the Collins has got two kids of her own. Phew, for a moment I got to think that bow hoe actually ended up loving m'boii...

I'm reading Mockingjay.

If you hadn't noticed.

Poor Gale.

Well, not actually poor at all. I mean, he's been a jerk, but not so much of a jerk to deserve this. Or has he? However, someone had to be the simpathetic guy who gets fiercely bullied by his friends. Like some sort of Rajesh Koothrappali, but without the black jokes.

Dead memes.

These memes are absolutely perished, six-feet-underground. I mean, they're hunger games memes with dead formats like the Tide pod one. But since I'm partly dead too, I don't really care about it.