#WoodcutWednesday

#WoodcutWednesday afterthought: Today's #ShittyWoodcut. I think my tools are dull or that I've regressed in skill.

Belly-shirt Blanche and Two-Face McBackbie couldn't have Athena running around ruining their fun.

Before Copernicus, we were all Bubble Boys.

Fuck shooting for the moon.

Early Quidditch broomsticks weren't brooms at all but shovels as pictured in a Nimbus 2 Monument.

Pretty sure this emblem explains rain as the piss of a devil prostitute dumped on the world.

Adorable.

First woodcut print from Senseshaper Press.

Lions were initially intended to be domesticated, but a good #NotALion defies subjection.

Not sure why Phil is checking out the menu when he has a tasty demon rat on his plate already.

Even the trees seemed to mock Vince when he carried his oversize heart purse.

No need to climb trees when you have an a ace up your sleeve–er, in your arm hair.

Was too tired to make good #WoodcutWednesday jokes today. Stayed up too late. Anyway, goodnight ladies.

Dear Caxton: If you want to spell Cook this way, you should consider changing his hat.

Suck it, Potter. Harry Bailey makes a better wizard.

Dave's soul's complaint was that all these bastards were talking without saying anything.

Mary know he was the Son of God and all, but she still wished the little bastard wouldn't bite.

Mary knew He was the Son of God and all, but she still wished the little bastard wouldn't bite.

The Committee of Poetry Johns (CPJs) elected Herb to tell Lydgate that he was no Gower.

Upon mention of talking animals, little Dale grew incredulous of his teacher's grasp on reality.

Hipster Angel, Eric, was soooo over the Black Death.

Bill, part of Santa's ground crew, was considered redundant after Rudolph joined the flight team.

Note to self: Playing dead does NOT work with wild boars.

#WoodcutWednesday over. I’m out.