The Mawwidge of Pwincesses, Pencils and Paypah

Now that I've finished the main, non-baddie cast, I thought you folks might enjoy seeing the character drawings from the movie The Princess Bride that I did this week. I started with Pwincess... er... Princess... Princess Buttercup. This is from the scene where she dreams she married Prince Humperdinck and gets booed by her royal subjects...


And here is her true love, Wesley (in Dread Pirate Roberts mode). He's only lying there because he's been Mostly Dead all day.


Of course I had to do my personal favorite character, Inigo Montoya... (say it with me, folks: "Hello: my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.".... Ah! Feel better now? I do.)


I also thought it would be fun to draw the ever-nefarious Vizzini-- as inconceivable as that might be...


And this morning, I put the finishing touches on the beloved strong man Fezzik, as played by the late Andre the Giant. ("My way? What's 'my way'?")


So now? I must close the book on this post. May your weekends all end up "happily ever after!"  --Jenn

Where Have All the Plural Pants Gone?


It arrived in my Inbox this morning. "The Soft Pant."

The email claimed to be from DressBarn, but my instinctual mistrust of the denizens of the internet suggested to me it probably was porn spam. Because if there's any soft panting going on online, that's usually where it'll find ya.

But no. Further inspection revealed a strange new perspective in fashion marketing. Somewhere along the way, it seems our bum-covers have become all feisty and leg-independent-- lone wolves, toughing it out in a statement of personal destiny, rugged individualism and polyester blends.

I'd seen hints of this leghole-based libertarianism a few months ago. There was one sign in Express, and another in New York & Company, proclaiming the chic awesomeness of this or that particular "pant." I had only just mentioned it to my friend Linda, when she promptly discovered this ad in her own email...


The "tummy control pant." One pant to control them all! 

Ah, if only Frodo had enjoyed the benefits of this singular garment of belly-bulge-bracing resolve, he might have been able to finish his epic journey in the span of a standard two-hour feature film.

I admit, it has me curious just how far the ramifications of the solo "pant" go. I mean, plural pants have been a part of our language for a while now. And I don't know if I'm ready to adapt. For me, it brings up questions of consistency.

Now do we tell someone to, "Put your pant on one leg at time"?

Do we talk about who "wears the pant in the family"?

After a big meal at the SuperPanda buffet, do we lean back in our chairs and exclaim, "My pant is too tight!"?

For my British friends, in a moment of dismay, are we required to exclaim, "Oh, pant!"

And if a film really sucks, must we proclaim, "That movie was pant!"

Also, I want to know if this applies to synonyms for the two-legged garments. Will we soon be up to our navels in "trouser"? On the weekend, will we slip into our favorite pair of "jean"? Do we now go to the meeting in one fashionable "slack"?

Is this some insidious ploy by the shirt and sweater marketing associations, who've secretly felt bitter all these years for having two sleeves yet being referred to as one piece of clothing, forcing them into being united for a single cause? Is this some sly chance to urge conformity among the soft cloth funnel wearing masses?

I want to know.


In the meantime, I glance suspiciously at the "headphone" on my desk and wonder. And wait.