wrongemboyo

I just hope he doesn't end up running from the police of london in some high tech, Con-Mobile!

 

John's resourceful. He'll figure it out. It'snot like making him a legal or alive agian will make hi any more accepted, or that he would accept anyone anymore than he already does.

Used to watch it, when it was on nick at nite. I was very small though. Less than 10. Watched it and F-Troop.

Chicago.

 

 

Are the realms the same over there? I stroll in Thunderhorn Normal Realm.

Wasn't that Glenn Fabry?

 

I thought he did all those Garth Ennis run covers.

Im a scout myself, I just never saw something like that 500 600 honor points thing.

I need to bust up to 40 already, then i get to wear mail!

Good game. I go with my Orc hunter. Lvl 39 though. I dont have enough for a steed. We ride Wolves. And as for pics....I havent the slightest idea how to do that.

 

How the hell do you get all that bonus honor????!

I .... will....never....be.....able....to....watch...that...again...

especially without thinking of Michael Jackson.

i CHANGED THE pOST tO iNCLUDE these other drawings. I have a few that i would want critiqued.

here's a john im experimenting with......

This was an attachment mistake.......sorry dont know how to delete this whole pointless post now that I can't get it to work, not a big deal..i hope.

This is a little story I wrote like a year ago...

 

 

 

It’s late and I am fucking tired. I’m sitting here with my seven dollar mocha coffee, which tastes pretty bland. For seven dollars I expect a flavor explosion, but this…this is nothing. Why am I here to begin with? This job is hell. Late night tailing is a bitch. But I’m being paid to do this.

She sits across the room. She’s short, with black hair and glasses and quite a big nose but rather attractive. I recognized her right away from the picture I received. It was one AM when I found her at this coffee bar up north. Some place called Pick Me Up. I was told she’d be here. It is a small place with a huge window to look in from the street. The first half of the small room is raised about two feet higher and the tables on this level are short, where the young Turks can sit Japanese style, waxing intellectual all night.

I walked past this part of the room to the lower half. I saw where she was sitting with three men. One was tall, in all black and reading a travel book about London. The one talking to her, and boring by the look of it, was a turtle-neck-wearing-fucker with a beard and a beret. The third guy was short, a little pudgy, and rather unhealthy looking. I suppose he has a few bad habits that make him look that way.

When I recognized her, I quickly looked for an empty seat. I found one in the corner. I looked around for a book case. Places like this always have a book case, in case some young college kid decides he must explore new ideas or learn new things while drinking his blend and smoking. I found the shelf and walked over to it.

“Can I help you?” said some small, attractive waitress, with a nose ring.

“Sure, I’m going to grab a book, then I’ll have seat in that spot over in the corner, and I want you to bring me a mocha cappuccino. Thanks.”

“Ok.” she said, rather unenthusiastically for someone who lives off tips from friendliness, but it doesn’t bother me much.

I grabbed the first book I see on the shelf, some big hardcover picture book with photos of Rome inside, and sat down on my chair. I’m not reading it, but I open it up and fake it. Every now and then I glance over at the girl. She is currently talking. I can’t hear what she’s saying over the goofy sitar song playing, probably some one’s idea of a mind expanding episode because I can smell pot in the room, but I assume it isn’t very important because the turtle-neck fucker is yawning, the guy with the London book is still reading, and the Druggy is looking around the room. No doubt trying find the source of the marijuana.

The short waitress comes with my mocha. “Ever been there?” she asks.

“Huh?” My mind was focused on the girl, now she’s thrown a spike into my concentration.

“Rome…Ever been to Rome?” She says pointing to the book I am pretending to read.

“Oh, no I haven’t. In fact, come to think of it, I’ve never left the county. How ‘bout you?” I fake interest. She’s cute.

“Oh yes, I’ve been traveling my whole life, I’ve been to Europe twice actually.” She says with snobbish pride. I’m not surprised really. You come to a place like this and this is what you get. A bunch of young neo-communists, vegetarians, know-it-alls, pseudo bohemians, whatever the hell you like. I still smell the pot and I’m getting rather tired.

“Really?” I question her with fake interest once again. I have a talent for it.

“Yes, I like Paris the best. People say that the French are snooty but I like them very much. Here’s your coffee.”

“Great, Well thank you. I’d love to go someday but I am quite busy with work.” I lie again.

“Really, what is it you do?”

“I’m a writer,” I smile and give a short humorous snort, “Well I try to be but really I have only published one book as of now.” Which is bullshit.

“Really what about?” She actually says with interest. If I keep this up I’ll be in bed with her by the end of the night but I have work to do with the other young lady I’m following, which reminds me to glance over. She is still talking.

“Snobby, upper class coffee bars, and the wasted unintelligent youths that work there.” I say with a sneer and a smirk.

“Asshole,” she says and turns around. Good riddance.

I put the book down and raise the bowl shaped cup full of coffee. I sip some up as I look over at the girl again. She seems deep in conversation. Probably about something important to her as well, like the influence of Marxism on American culture during the industrial revolution or some horseshit. I can see she’ll be there awhile. So I drink my seven dollar cup of bland mocha and wait.

I finish my coffee at the same time she finishes talking. About an hour. The person offering a rebuttal is the turtle neck fucker. She stops listening. And why not. All these college kids want is to hear themselves talk. They don’t even mind if you listen. Then once they’re finished they stop listening and begin to think about what they’re going to say next. The room is rather dark and I wonder if anyone believes that I’m actually reading in this neon light behind my head. I don’t think anyone is really noticing me though which is my plan. Boredom inspires me to look at my watch. It’s about 2:30 AM. This brings out a yawn. I am tired. The coffee doesn’t cure this, all it does is make you sweat. But I have something that will cure it and I decide that I have long enough to go to the bathroom for this fixer.

I place my book down and turn my coffee over so the waitress will know it’s empty. Then I walk past the four people and they don’t notice me at all. The black haired girl with glasses has an attractive quality I can see from up close but can’t put my finger on. I walk past them and into the bathroom.

The bathroom is a small, one toilet no urinal, unisex bathroom. It has a sink with a small puddle of brown water under it, coming from a pipe and a bit of the same water not draining near in the basin part. Directly opposite from the toilet is a condom dispenser. It looks like the only clean thing in the house. The toilet isn’t flushed and someone pissed on the seat. No bother to me though because shitting isn’t what I’m here to do. So I pull my little metal Altoids container from my pocket, (which has been empty of Altoids for quite some time) and open it up. I make up a little line on the top of the toilet, after rubbing it clean with some toilet paper, and snort it up. That’s a pick me up coffee is unable to give. My eyes open wide and I look in the dirty, foggy mirror. Good job I say to myself as I wipe white powder from my nose. My heart races and I’m wired. Now to go back out to my tail.

After closing the door I see the girl and her boyfriends still sitting sure enough. This time London Man has decided to put the book down and talk. No one really is listening as usual. I’m excited now though and when I get back to my table I whistle and wave a hand for the waitress, which causes my tail to look at me. Fuck, I think, but it can’t be helped. It’s ok though, she probably just thinks I’m some asshole as she turns back to her coffee. In this light she probably couldn’t make my face out anyway.

The waitress arrives with a pissed off look. “Yes, what?”

“I see we’ve thrown caution to the wind when it comes to politeness for potential tippers…hmm?” I say, wired and excited. She looks even better when she’s mad. And when I’m doped of course.

“Look asshole, you want another coffee or what?”

“Yes angel, I’d like the same as before, and if it’s quick there’s a big tip in it for you.” I say as suave as possible. Now that I’m doped I’m willing to flirt. My charm switches on and the coke acts as a sort of Viagra, making me hard as a rock. But my jeans conceal all.

“Fucking dickhead,” she says, but I catch a slight smile which means I have something to work with. A spark that says my charm is working. She turns around to fetch my coffee. I don’t really want another seven dollar bland coffee but I have to stay here as long as black-haired-four-eyes does and I need to be a paying customer and look like I’m here for coffee instead of her. It’s hot in here though. I don’t know if it’s the steaming coffee, the neon light behind me, or the coke, but I’m sweating, and I can feel my forehead heating up. I look at my watch. It’s only 2:45 and it doesn’t look as if four eyes is ready to leave with her boyfriends just yet. But I should be alright now that I’m flying.

The smoke of everyone’s cigarettes is giving the room a foggy look, and blackening my lungs at the same time. The smell of marijuana is only getting stronger and is obviously being ignored by the staff. The Druggy at my girl’s table is still looking anxious to find the source. The London man wraps up his side of the argument, places his head back into his book, and gives the dark-haired girl another turn on the soap box. A couple comes into the place and I wouldn’t even have noticed them except they decide to sit at my table, blocking my view of the girl.

“Mind if we sit here.” They say. It wasn’t even a question because they just sit down. Damn it. These fuckin’ bastards. Well there’s only one solution.

My eyes begin to twitch and I start to scratch myself in odd places. I give a fake gag and cough.

“No gahead..” I say in a Ratso Rizzo voice. “You guys want some drugs?” I sniffle and rub my nose. “I got all types. I get ‘em cheap off the niggers on Western. Probably be more rat poison than real stuff though, you know niggers, but works for most, am I right?”

The act works as they look around and ,without a word to me, go sit somewhere else. My darling waitress returns with my cup o’ bland crap water.

“Thanks doll face” I say and slide a ten to her.

“The bill is fourteen dollars.” She says matter of factly.

“Of course it is. But that’s for you, I’m sorry I was being so rude earlier. I’d like to make it up to you.” I flash a grin. “When do you get off work?” This makes her smile a little more but she still looks as if she’s not ready to forgive.

“I appreciate the tip, and the apology.” she says and turns around without answering my question. It’s alright though, I’ll break her by the time my party leaves. Which reminds me to look over. Still there of course. I wonder how there conversation is going. By now they’ve probably moved on to how Media and Television are destroying creativity in youth these days, or some B.S. Something new is happening now though. The young man with the London book is speaking and the other three are listening.

Something in this conversation changed. I imagine they hear the same heated debates over and over, but some once-in-a-conversation thing is being said to these people and I think I need to hear it. The London Man has hunched himself over and is beginning to speak to the rest of the stooges. They all lean in to listen. I have got to find a discreet way into this conversation. Even Druggy has stopped sniffing around for marijuana long enough to be at attention. Hopefully their attention is focused strongly enough so that they don’t notice me.

The coke is making my heart beat fast as I sneak off my chair. The coffee will have to wait. I take my first step and the cute waitress with the nose ring returns. Smiling at me.

“Hello angel.” I say without taking my eyes off the table in front of me. I am trying to read their lips.

“My names Dixie.” She says smiling, and half-blushing. She now looks younger than twenty. “and I’m sorry about everything earlier. I know we got off on the wrong foot. Can we begin again? My shift just ended.”

Damn it! Not now Dixie. The London Man’s lips said something like “wear out,” but I was never a lip reader. I need to see my way into this conversation. Behind their table is the mucky bathroom I was in earlier. I have an idea that will kill two birds with one stone.

“Yes of course, sweet heart. I was afraid I had hurt your feelings and I immediately felt ashamed. My names Reginald, Reginald Taylor.” A phony name, just in case. Just in case of what? I ask myself. I am just too used to telling lies. I put my hand out for her to shake it, and when she does I turn her hand towards me and lift it to my lips. Her hand tastes likes cigarettes.

She pulls her hand away quickly and I glance at Four-eyes’ table. Everyone is still leaning in.

“Excuse me, Reginald,” she says without hurt. “I am not used to this kind of behavior.” Her face turns red as she begins to ramble. “I mean they say chivalry is dead, and I would believe it. And just a second ago you were being such a -”

“Asshole, I know. I feel terrible. I’d hate for you to think I meant what I said.” I interrupted. My stud-voice is turned on.

“No one has ever kissed my hand before.”

“Really? That’s really a shame. You really are quite beautiful.” Thanks to cocaine, coffee, and bad lighting. I chuckle out loud.

“What? What’s funny?” She asks.

“ Nothing. I was thinking of how right you were about chivalry being dead.” And women fucking killed it. Not this girl though. This act -if I’m lucky- might work.

“Perhaps it’s not all dead” The girl smiled. I know this smile. It’s the smile of submission. I need to make my move toward the table.

“Perhaps you’re right.” I suavely smile back. She is looking doughy eyed at me and I plant a kiss on her. She doesn’t fight it. Her lips taste like cigarettes. When I’m done I raise my head to let go, but she pulls me back for more. I was not expecting this. This girl thinks she’s in control. I can’t say I do not enjoy it though, all except the cigarettes. I grab her body and begin to move us toward the table where Four-Eyes is. We are still kissing when I slam her against the bathroom door. Close to the table now, I could hear the London man saying “Tomorrow. Around four o’clock in the afternoon.” But now the coke controls my hands and I reach for a breast. I grab her right one with my left hand. My cock and the coke work together against me. I try to listen to the conversation some more but this is taking everything I got.

Dixie pulls my hand off her breast and stops kissing me. I prepare myself for a slap but I see desire in her eyes instead. She pulls away from my face and gestures “Come on” with her finger. She uses her left hand to open the bathroom door that was pressed against her back and her right hand to pull me with her. No, I know I have to hear this. But yes, yes, the mixture of coke and penis say. I am pulled through the door and it closes. This time she presses me against the door and in the second she takes to bring her lips back to mine I overhear through the door, the London man. “100 S. Sangamon.” is all he says then Dixie is full on kissing me again. I rub my hand up and down her back as she unbuttons my shirt. My hands take control when I find the little latch through the cloth of her shirt and in a second, pop the bra open. She slides her shirt off and the bra goes with it. Those are really nice tits, I almost say out loud.

“Reginald” she gasps between a breath. “Get a condom.” She lets go of me for a while. Jesus, what a succubus. In a rush I reach both hands into my slacks and turn my pockets out. Change and cash falls all over the floor as well as my little address book and Altoids can. I managed to grab a hand full of quarters though and I put two in the dispenser. I grab the generic, all white condom that falls out. It just says PROTECTION on the label. She takes it from me and rips it open. She drops to her knees and undoes my belt buckle. She slips it on me and stands up. I take my pants all the down to my ankles, and throw off the rest of my shirt as she slides her panties off. We look at each other as we rise. Amazing how just a while ago I had this girl pissed off at me. I almost laugh but it’s just a smile. She sees it as a good sign and jumps me. She’s riding me hard and my heart beats like crazy. She’s a pro it seems and her loose pussy only supports this. She squeezes my cheeks together as she kisses me and I’m doing my best to hold her up. This feels so good…oh shit.

I look up to the ceiling but it blurs as I let out a moan simultaneously with my come. The coke over excited me. It had to be that. I lower my head and the blur fades. Now I can see the shitty walls, puddles of brown water, a pissed on toilet. The girl doesn’t look pleased. Her face twists and she grumbles under her breath.

“What?” I sincerely ask.

“I said, Fuck chivalry!” and she pulls her clothes on. She looks at the change and cash on the floor and grabs a twenty. I guess she feels a bit cheated. She also grabs the little can of Altoids. Too bad there were none in there or I would have given her one. She opens it as if reading my mind and her eyes grow wide when she sees what’s inside. She looks up at me with what I read as disappointment.

“Do you mind?” she says.

“No,” I almost stutter. What a mess.

The girl takes a little coke in her finger nail and snorts it up. Then she closes it and hands it to me. She finishes dressing and with the same hand she snorted the coke with she pulls the condom off my pecker and takes it with her. What the fuck?

“See you later, knight in shining armor.” She says as she walks out the bathroom door.

“It was the coke.” I try to explain before realizing how pointless it was.

I look around once more, and put my clothes on. I pocket the address book, my Altoids, and my cash, but the leave the change for anyone who ends up in a similar situation. Just as I grab the knob of the door my mind comes around to the important thing I came here for. The four eyed girl. Shit. I leave the bathroom. The girl’s table is empty.

I walk back to my table with shame and disappointment. My coffee is still awaiting me but with a pleasant surprise inside. A nice gooey floating condom. Shit, what a night. I have to pay for this stuff still so I go up to the counter, and pay the lady at the register.

“Can I borrow a pen?” I ask.

She hands me one. I take out my little address book and open to the first page. On it I write: 100 S. Sangamon. Tomorrow. 4:00.

“Thanks” I say and hand her the pen.

“No problem, stud.” and she winks at me. Fuck.

All at once the coffee, sex, and cocaine wear out and the time comes crashing down on me like a huge weight, settling around my neck. I’m fucking tired.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 2

“Hello, Mr. Speck.” said the teenage door boy outside my building. I offered him one of the six glazed donuts I just picked up for my breakfast, if you can call donuts at one o’clock breakfast, and he accepted it with a smile and a “thanks.”

Last night was a late night. I got home around four in the morning. I walked in my building at the same time the fucking street lights went off. I took the elevator up to my floor. I almost fell asleep right there in the elevator. I wasn’t quite slumbering when the bell dinged on the fourth floor. I got out and went into my apartment. I run my office out of it. It’s where my bedroom should be and I sleep on the hide-a-bed couch. Friends call my mobile phone and customers call the house line.

I kicked off my sneakers and got into bed without a shower. I immediately fell asleep. Ten minutes into my sleep, the damn phone rang. I let it ring. I couldn‘t be coherent that early. After about ten minutes of ringing I couldn’t ignore it anymore. Friends call the mobile, who was calling my phone at this hour? It had to be Kip Linch, the man I tailed four-eyes for. He couldn’t wait to know what she’s been up to. He probably sat up thinking of the mischief she was getting into. She wasn’t even his wife. Mrs. Four-eyes was Mr. Linch’s secretary. He told me this much about her. The rest I still had to find out.

One time I stepped on the lil monopoly cannon. It was great pulling that out of my foot.

 

I was getting out of a car and I forgot my friend was in the backseat so I swung the door closed at the exact moment he decided to clime out of the two door. It bashed 'em good.

 

 

When i was six I was trying to fit in my toybox - which was a plastic football - for hide n seek. I got stuck and almost flipped out from claustrophobia.

 

Also I dropped The sandbox lid when I was 5 on my 4 year old sister's face and she split her lip open and needed to get stitches.

 

I'm sure I can dig up some more repressed memories eventually. I do some stupid shit.

 

One time I thought it would be cool and impressive to backflip off of a swing. ...................................................my back still hurts. 10 years later.

"Then why are you smiling?"

"Because I know somethingyou don't know."

"What's that?"

"I am not left handed."

 

 

"I do not have to miss y'know"

 

 

"To blave, which we all know means to bluff."

"Liar!"

 

"You have six fingers! I know someone who is looking for you."

 

 

ummmm....

That apocalypse now one was pretty high....top ten i think.....smells like victory.

 

"I thought you were eddie dane's sycophant."

"Yeah well a guy can have more than one friend, jesus Tom"

Coen Brothers quotes can go all day. ----- TURN TO THE RIGHT!

good god.

 

Like the brains one though.

Kiefer should not play Constantine. woof. Horrible actor.

 

Hmmmm. Michael Caine....wait what? No No. John Huston as Lucifer....

 

 

 

 

Um....Sting is basically Constantine. Acting lessons....Bam he's automatically as good an actor as Sutherland.

 

Im amazed to see all the picks of people that look like john. but thats not hard, give me a Cig, no shave for a day or two, die my hair, a coat, and some low key lighting, and Im john......Hey that gives me an idea......

 

So with that said..... (Actually that sean bean photo looks more like David Beckham to me)

......Hugh Grant as John Constantine.....yes dedfinitely...all of us Americans love good 'ol hugh. Plus we all now how bumbly he and John are....

 

 

in all seriousness, Id go with a no name and a lower budget....

because a cult following would serve hellblazer better

 

for the purposes of this thread........um......hmmm.......Tim Roth/Mr. Orange

John: ~Takes a big drag ~ Coughs~

........................

 

John: Hi, my name is John Constantine..

AA Group: Hello, John Constanteen.

John: Yeah Hi.

...............

 

Chas: My Favorite Run was Carey's

Gemma: What are you kidding? The best is Ennis. Have you read Preacher?

The First: You're both wrong. I like Ellis.

S.T.: I dislike that comic, now if we go back to #37 of My book I must say Alan Moore -

...........

 

John: I said you're damn words now hold up your promise and send me back!

Ancient Wizard: Yes the Necronomicon Can send you back but it's useless to us.

John: Klatu Verata Necktie!

...................

 

 

Lord Elrond: Someone needs to take this ring.

John: Send the midget.

.....................

 

CuriousParty: Mr. Constantine, so why do you smoke, don't you know it cause all sorts of problems?

John: To Calm me Nerves.

CP: Wy do you drink then.

John: To numb me feelings.

CP:What's the point in using magic?

John: For a good excuse to drink and smoke?

...........................

 

Cassidy: Jaysus! Who are you?

Constantine: Who are you?

Cassidy: Um, A Bastard quick witted Irish Vampire who just shit on his only friends. You?

Constantine: A bastard Quick witted Magic weilding englishman who just got his friends killed.

Cassidy: Right. Have a fag?

Constantine: Aye. How about a pint?

Cassidy: My kind of guy.

Constantine: I have a feeling this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

 

Eh --- so maybe im not that funny.

Anyone see this on TV?

 

 

Go to AFI.com to take a look, I have no linking abilities...

 

but I was slightly upset about a few entries....

 

Top Ten...

1. Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn. - Gone with the wind.

2.I'm going to make him an offer he can't refuse. - The godfather.

3. You Don't understand I could have been

a contender. I couldve been somebody, instead

of a bum, which is what I am. --------------------On the Waterfront

4. Toto, I've got a feeling were not in Kansas

anymore. -----------------------------------------------Wizard of Oz.

5. Here's looking at you Kid. --------------------------Casablance.

 

 

 

I was unsatisfied that Jaws was only once while Casablance was eight times on the list. Also Star Wars was once and Jerry Maguire was like three.

 

 

SO these lists are a tad BS. Give me your own favorite movie quotes.

 

Foreground my Ass! - Chief Martin Brody - Jaws.

Our precious Bodily Fluids Mandrake - General Ripper - Dr. Strangelove.

Kick a Buck. - Luke- - - Cool Hand Luke

I feel so Funky. -- Dr. Peter Venkman - - ghostbusters.

 

 

Those are a few of the ones I like to quote.

Honor Blackman!!! I widnae tooch 'er wee yers.

 

"I must be dreaming" - Sean Connery as Bond. James Bond.

 

Xenia Onnatop is definitely one of my favorites. Ahh women who half orgasm while pumping rooms full od people full of lead are right up my alley.....

 

 

 

what!!?

Ive googled myself, and I get nothing but an old German who invented a rocket or summin like dat.

sorry to hear this man. My god.

 

I was a lonely young man, about one year ago, and sinking lower and lower with sex, drugs, and rock -n- roll. Until one X-MAs at night I was looking for love in Central Park New York, when a strange man came to me in a vision. He said I would be visited by three spirits, and an egyptian mushroom goddess... (A different Story altogether...we had to beat them to death wif their own shoes..)

Then finally the man showed me what the world would be like had I continued on my path....then he gave me his name...only his name and dissapeared into darkness.

He said "Spiderlegs"

I just finished Red Sepulchre and I liked the art. Story was fine. I agree with the Map remarks, I like him so mysterious.

 

I hate that I only have blurbs of Hellblazer so far, because I get lost often. But it takes a while to follow up on all the goods with john Constantine. He's all over the place.

What are the CRUCIAL tpbs? Probably all of them right. Or the crucial Story Arcs?

 

I mean I have issues.. 1-3...58 - 68...the first of Haunted..134? and then 184 and on until 206.. because that's when I started... and recently ran out of comic funds.

 

then Ive read .. Haunted, Good Intentions, Freezes Over, Red Sepulchre, Hard Times? (The Prison One...didnt much like it though..) and Dangerous Habits.

 

I also have a tpb of Swamp Thing#37 until Swamp thing destroys all the fictional characters. that was good. I really enjoy that JC, with his quips and manipulation.

 

Anything so crucial that I am missing, before I can become truly knowledgeable about the subject?

This is a hard question. I like that he ages because it sets him apart from other comics, but I don't think a sixty year old constantine still sporting blonde hair and doing magic would be great.

 

I am too divided. I like the idea of little glimpses of John that JMcMahon said earlier.

 

Also, I - like most here I'm sure - would love to do something with Hellblazer. But that's not likely to happen. Movie, series, tpb, anything would be cool.

 

So, if you wrote hellblazer... who do you want drawing for you? is it the same as your favorite artist...? Or is it someone from another comic? I'd like to know.

 

I know one thing about him aging.....I'm not ready to see him go away yet.

Not good. I fear change. FEAR IT!!

 

Lately, the comic I started buying not so long ago has been changing before I could really get a good grasp of everything.

First - M. Frusin

Then - M. Carey

Now - Tim Bradstreet

 

But because this is now the only comic I read and JC is still the best, I will continue on and wish for the best. ~sigh~

 

HAPPY TRAILS TO YOU....Until we meet again....

j/k

Great Covers, man. Will miss 'em a lot.

Liverpool!? nuts.

Well... the one copy I DO have is on reversal stock and can only be projected.

The other, I only had one copy of and I handed that in to my instructor to grade. I don't mind about the last one, it was badand I wouldn't share it anyway most likely. The first one is without sound as well.

 

The others I shot were for other students and they keep all their copies and rarely do they make them for others....which sucks.

 

So basically - no. But I am sorry that I can't.