I Dont Think ANYONE Can Draw John Tbh

I don’t think ANYONE can draw John tbh

this is the closest I ever got and I literally had a reference :/

kicking a wall rn HOW DO YOU DRAW GENERAL JOHN MACNAMARA AND WHY CANT I DO IT!!! I CAN DRAW BARRY SWIFT!! THEY LOOK EXACTLY THE SAME!!!

Mr. Everwoods Unfinished Obituaries.

Chapter 1, Part 1

CONTENT WARNINGS - Depictions of death, insensitive language.

My name is Mr. Markus Jacque. I am a healthy, 46 year old man who lives in Utah after me and my family recently moved from Paris. I am married to an insensitive, gold digging woman named Mrs. Jacque.

I hate Mrs. Jacque. She’s a no good piece of shit who takes all my money. That’s all she does, take, take, take. So one day I planned to kill her.

It was 4:17 AM when I woke up - my alarm not set to go off for another hour and a half but my brain already fully functioning and pumping excitement through my restless body. Today, I would kill my wife. I slowly get out of my bed - not one I shared with her, since I had recently been too disgusted by her existence to sleep with her.

I silently grab my coat to protect from the chill of the morning air as I step out in the driveway, cracking the door but not closing it. There was no need to make unnecessary noise. I forgot the keys to the car, but I didn’t need them. I found another way.

I got down to the ground, my face pressing against the cool, frozen over pavement as I pushed myself under the car, as far as I could get before I was stuck. I reached up as best I could and felt the underside of the vehicle, taking a hold of the first thing not metal - a chunk of wires and tearing them out. I hope it would stop the breaks, as planned.

When we drove to get breakfast this morning, the breaks would cut and she would fly through the windshield due to her hatred of wearing a seatbelt. At 6:17 AM my ugly piece of shit wife was finally awake, and we loaded into the car. Our son would stay home with his older sister - as much as I wish to bring him, he always wore a seatbelt and I didn’t want a witness.

As we drove down the road I couldn’t help the chemical excitement in my brain, almost tingling my own soul with sparks of joy. My brain wasn’t the only thing sparking. I hadn’t noticed the leaks from the wires I pulled, or even known what I pulled had not been the breaks at all - all I knew is as I sped up the car at a red light, there was a horrible shocking sound below the vehicle and then a barely audible bang as the front hull of the car exploded into a tornado of fire, silencing just as fast as it started.

In my dying moments, I hoped that piece of shit I called my wife died with the inferno.

Mr. Everwood drew a small little image of a car on fire at the bottom of his page, chuckling quietly as he finished off his wonderful story. It may not be accurate, but it was true in spirit.

As far as he knew, Mr. Jacques had actually been quite a nice fellow who died when his car ran off the road and over an exposed gas line. But Mr. Everwood really did hate Mrs. Jacques. Or… ‘Ms’ Jacques now. He laughed again at the though, and was grateful for his solitude.

To break up writing boring obituaries all day, he wrote more interesting stories on his spare paper. After all, why let these deaths go to waste on boring, pathetic people? Nobody would care about a random gas fire death, they wanted to hear about murder and anger and desire. He stamped the paper with his precious, hand carved red stamp and carefully placed it into the second drawer on his desk, on top of all the other short stories and poems he had crafted this week. He diverted his attention to the actually obituary he had to turn in, his expression souring. Unfortunately, he would be fired if not turning in the correct paper - he was hired to draft real obituaries after all, not his stories, as good as they may be.

Working for rich slobs who wouldn’t even take on the simple mantle of sending loved ones off with hand crafted stories…

He loved his job.

I’m beating both 😎(/j)

I’m not beatinr the autistic allegations

uno reverse card

*bites you* (affectionate)

*bites you* (affectionate)

*bites you* (affectionate)

*bites you* (affectionate)

*bites you* (affectionate)

save me a piece 🥺 /silly

im so bored i need to be someones attack dog i need to kill someone because my friend told me to

Here I’m sicing you on various Hatchetfield characters

go tear mr. Davidson apart like a small mammal /j /silly

im so bored i need to be someones attack dog i need to kill someone because my friend told me to