Alright, so I've decided it's time to move from my old DeviantArt account. Nothing against the people who have visited me, or favorited me, I just really want a new name and the face that DevArt doesn't let you change it save for a complete overhaul, so... here is the compelte overhaul!

My new site is [link]

That is where all my new artwork will be posted, and definately better copies of the artwork here. I'll still check on this site occasionally, but honestly... not gonna put alot up here anymore.

Thanks for the favs and adds on this site though, hope to see you on my new site.

Cheers!

Well, it's happened. I've moved out of my parents house and into my dorm for my college years. I have to say, it's rather bland but I hear that's in style. Seeing as how I got to move in early, I get the honor of choosing the half of the room I like better. This mean I don't have the mattress that smells like garbage with the skid marks down the front. Infact, my mattress doesn't even smell.

But after sitting my dorm, alone, for about an hour, my paranoid minds tends to jump to conclusions and I think my dorm is haunted. Actually, the banging and moaning is comming from my mini fridge.. not as cool.

Seeing as I have no scanner, art will be delayed. Maybe I can find a scanner to use here at college...

Sohcahtoa.

I got tagged, in a way. Here's the thing, first five people to respond on this journal get a picture drawn by me for them of what they want. Then they gotta post this same thing in their journal and draw something for their first five responders, etc, etc, etc.

So... *shoots off gun* GO!

Aaaaah another day done, another work shift slaved through, and ANOTHER PAYCHECK!! Sadly, my awesome boss Paul has left us for a culinary arts academy in Arizona. Sad. T-T. He at least left me with a gift, free cheezstix. Because on his second to last day at work, I passed out, just my luck. And now I have a new boss, who MIGHT or might not be named Rocco. But then again, his name seems to fluctuate, so I just call him "HEY! NEW MANAGER GUY!!".

Which leads me to this. The man who MIGHT or MIGHT NOT be Rocco is strict, unlike Paul, who left me with this one, wonderful memory.

Anchovvy lady.

I pick up the phone and there is this lady, and she's already in a bad mood. The other store sent her to us, and she's angry at them and taking it out on me, the phone girl. So I sit through her yelling at me. And here's what got me. Her phone kept loosing connection, so I couldn't understand her. The conversations:

Anchovvy lady: I live 18(can't undersand the rest)
Me: Uhhhh.... 18.... what was the rest of that, ma'am?
Anchovvy lady: FOUR! THE FOURTH NUMBER IN OUR DAMN NUMERICAL SYSTEM!!
Me: Oh, sorry, I didnt hear you.
Anchovvy lady: Wow, they're really hiring from the bottom of the barrel over at Papa John's, huh?
Me: What?
Anchovvy lady: You heard me, pizza girl.

Naturally I'm a little bewildered and she proceeds to order pizza COVERD in anchovvies, and yells at me the entire time, calling me a variety of words (all of which mean DUMB), and finally hang up on me. So I vent to Paul, who grins, grabs some sauce and proceeds to add jalapeno juice and crushed red peppers to it.

But the day went through.... and we didn't get the angry call we were waiting anxiously for. So... we took some of the Sauce, made our own pizza and realized... it was delicious.

We just gave the biggest jerk THE BEST PIZZA EVER.

Oooooh the irony....

Paul... I will miss you...

I know, I know. I haven't updated any of my pictures in half and age. And though normally I'd plead the fact that I'm busy, considering that it's summer, that rarely flies.

Frighteningly enough, it's true. I'm doing drivers ed and work.

And that brings me to this journal.

I know that working in the food industry business, I'm not going to be dealing with geniuses. I understand and accept that, but seriously, how dumb do you get? I took an order, which involved the woman's name, number and address. And at the end to be personal I added her last name. The closing conversation went as such.

Me: alright ma'am, your pizza will be there in 30-45 minutes, have a lovely day, Linda.

Linda: *incredulous* how do you know my name!?

At first I thought she was joking. I mean, maybe she thought she was funny. Buuuuut... no. She really was confused. So, I followed up with this.

Me: *deadpan* I'm psychic, ma'am.
Linda: Oooooh....

Horrifying. At least it broke up the monotony. I suppose. I could continue, but I'll keep the Pizza Parlor horror stories for another time.