Wereboy and the Death Of Tomorrow

One day, that will be the title of my comic book.

It's about a werewolf, you see. Except he doesn't have any superpowers. In fact, he's not even a werewolf anymore and I think he's probably racist. Everyone loves a racist...

This hypothetical graphic orgasm is just one of many things that I intend to do, but out of all of them it will definitely be the most awesome. Racist werewolf!

There's something really juvenile about wanting to write comic books now that I'm, arguably, full grown. I'm supposed to stop wanting to be a rock star and have an amazing job like video game tester or comic book writer but really, the longer I go without these things, the more I want them. Time, I suppose, is slipping from the top chamber to the bottom... of the hour glass... the hour glass of life. Metaphore.

What needs to happen is that I go into a chrysalis and then come out the other end with totally badass drawing skills. The only other alternatives are that I draw it now with my completely inept drawing skills or I actually practise drawing my characters.

The latter option is preferable, but I know myself too well to put money on it.