An *Actual* Chicken Cartoon

I love it when I get into the cartooning mood and this morning, I woke up with a couple of crazy ideas for cartoons. Cartoons involving chickens.

But before I get to that, I'd like to present a little Two Beans Or Not Two Beans trivia factoid for you lovely readers: did you know that if Hanny the Coffee Bean hadn't had the brilliant idea of using Microsoft Paint, my blog posts wouldn't have had cartoons at all?

I'm not joking about that.

At the very dawn of founding our corner of the Internet, I expressed to Hanny that I wanted to have cartoons to explain my blog posts. Actual pen-and-ink drawings that I crafted with my own hand.

However, I fretted about it due to one minor technicality: I didn't own a scanner.

"How am I supposed to make cartoons if I can't scan them?!" I asked my partner-in-crime. "Do I draw them and then take pictures with my camera? Do you know how dumb that will look? I mean, who wants to see a picture of a drawing?"

"Just use Paint," Hanny coolly reasoned.

It's hard to believe, but until that painfully obvious suggestion came, I had not even considered making my cartoons using a computer. It was a foreign concept to me and a daunting one at that. Ditch paper and pencils for pixels and a keypad? Will I even be good at it?


Turns out that I don't do such a terrible job at it and I have since embraced being able to make full color cartoons in a few clicks without developing a severe, crippling cramp in my right hand.

Lately, though, I was at a loss for doing that. Even if I had an idea, no matter how insignificant it was, I couldn't be bothered to open Paint to make the cartoon. It wasn't until I woke up this morning when it hit me. Just for once, I'd actually like to make a cartoon by hand, not on Paint, as if I wanted to get back to my cartooning roots. It's just what felt right and realizing there are no paradigms to creativity is something that I have to constantly remind myself.

So, for the time-being, here is one of the dumb cartoons that popped into my mind. 

(Oh, by the way, even after so many years of living in a world filled with technological advances, I still don't own a scanner. In the end, I've taken a photo of a drawing, the very thing I avoided doing right from the origin of this little blog. Ha. Ha. HA.)

Sorry, son. You've been cock-blocked.

I'll admit that I wasn't trying hard to make an excellent cartoon. But I came to the realization that my artistic skills are a bit rusty, meaning they have totally deteriorated to a level which embarrasses me. Here are some drawings from my past so you can compare them to the simplistic chicken and rooster:

Sea turtle

Multi-tasking octopus. I remember that the word "multi-tasking" was very in vogue back in the day.

A lobster and a shrimp (prawn)

Even Atlanteans need a few arrows of love.

A Florida Marlin. Gotta root for the home team.

Clown fish with an anemone, circa post-"Finding Nemo"

Sea slugs that are clearly snails *head desk*

A Flamenco dancer to represent Spanish class...

...and a frog to represent French class. This was WAY before I realized I would one day live in France and come to utterly despise the whole frogs = France stereotype. 

This Killer Whale/Orca was my favorite of the cartoons. Probably because it was a bitch to color in all the dark areas and it gave me a sense of accomplishment after it ate up two ballpoint pens in the process. 

I did these drawings for my high school's nautical-themed yearbook when I was a Senior. I was seventeen. Turning into a responsible adult who can't even draw a below sub-standard chicken makes me want to tear my hair out.

Anyway, I did say I had ideas for chicken cartoons (plural). Whether or not I will express myself by sitting down and drawing them, or chicken out and rely on Paint once more, will be determined in the future. Rest assured, though, I will continue to make all the lovely, wonky pixelated illustrations you've grown to love.

Translation: that means that I'm too broke to buy coloring and art supplies, let alone a scanner.

Barb the French Bean

Nineteen Year-Old Self Vs. The Present Me

If I had a time machine, I would pay my nineteen year-old self a visit. Once I see her POW! I would punch her right in the face. The reason for such a thought is due to the fact that my nineteen year-old self was a brat. This behavior was most noted in relationships, especially when it came to a "certain" someone. This "certain" someone really liked her and eventually they started to go out, but she was immature about many things. I mean this girl was just cruel in her ways, not that she was trying to be, but what do you expect from a resented girl?

Well as many good things, the relationship ended.

(It wasn't all her fault, but not the point).

So in the end, he ended up breaking her heart, which turned into a mad vicious cycle.

(Translation: She kept getting hurt throughout the years).

Ever since then, I have been stuck in this mad vicious cycle of getting my heart broken...

The following daydream may or may not consist of blood. Please note that the author of this post is not responsible for any damages or staining of clothes, utensils, and anything else that might get damaged or stained.

As a result of these tormenting thoughts, I ended up daydreaming with hunting down my nineteen year-old self.

The Daydream. June. 08, 2010, 12:25 am.

As I made my way out of the time machine, I saw a familiar place called "school". This "school" was exactly the way I remembered it; from spider webs on the corners to mold covering bits of the walls. It was all too familiar to me, but as to where my nineteen year-old self could be? that was a mystery to me. Oblivious to everything going on around me; focused on finding my nineteen year-old target, I bumped into what I thought was a wall. "Babe, are you okay?" he asked. My eyes widened as I choked on my own saliva; it couldn't possibly be, but it was. It was my one and only "certain" someone. I looked around me to see if my nineteen year-old self was anywhere around me, but everyone had dispersed. "You okay?" he repeated, as he looked at me with curiosity. "Uh yes I am," I said taking a few steps back. "Then stop backing away, silly." He said, as he took a few steps forward and grabbed me by the waist. He looked into my eyes and softly kissed me on the lips...

*Falls off chair*

BAM!

*Gets up from the floor*

sorry where was I...

So I went around the gym to see if my nineteen year-old self was there, but she was not. Where can she be I wondered as I turned the corner. Just then the bookstore door opened, and there she was with a bag full of books.

And that is how I ended up beating up my nineteen year-old self.

I am in no way responsible for my lack of telling a story, and punctuation mistakes. (Ok I am, but at least you got a nice picture!)




Hanny The Coffee Bean