Bogexplosion - Boggys Blog

The Assistant Manager of Hell

I'm​ thinking​ of quitting my job. An assistant manager with a strikeing resemblance to the fedora NAZI from Raiders loves to knock over my shit, talk to me like a dog, and honestly. Her clammy pig like eyes leer at me in a semi-erotic, yet unwelcome fashion. There's a ton of reasons, but she's the sole one. Basically it's like having a will to kick ass and chew bubblegum and kick ass. But the bully tied you up with the string ball tether, and beat you in the courtyard. Everyone appalled on your side. But are three feet smaller then the held back asshole feeding you knees to the cock. Basically I have an assistant manager who likes to mess with us, and berate us, and sabotage our work. So she can't ever be replaced. And while our general manager tries to keep us with carrots. He attempts try to attract assistant managers to get the bitch fired. But he's been fucked for months, and doesn't want to work 100hrs a week. He needs her, we are expendable for his honestly more valuable sanity. But at this point, she has insured I'm basically stuck between her knocking grease buckets around for me to clean up. Or her disgusting stares that have went from being cute to downright offensive. Worst of all, she pulls rank, as a reason to stare at my ass for fifteen minutes at a time. It's fucked. I would honestly take it with way more grace if I didn't know she picked on high school kids the same way. GROSS! I guess in a sense I'm floating a question of my relationship with Ms Wendy? She's kind of a bitch. Either way, you'll probably know I've quit if you see more activity on this blog this week. More art and shit. You'll know I stayed if you just see a ton of activity a week from now if the mega cunt doesn't force this week's new hires to hang themselves either. I plan on trying to post more either way. If the week is me still slapping burgers. You may get some time lapse drawings from my new camera setup I got for you guys! See you all in hell!

Commission I did for @let-it-di3

Buttered for Supper

It had been centuries since the human race was exterminated in World War V. After centuries of brutal Opression, the gift of genetic engineering allowed the entire cornucopia to come to life. Tomatoes, celery, sweet corn, and broccoli. All rose up against humanity and smited them from the universe. But unfortunately we became monsters...

I was on a call at a crime scene near the docks of Mas Santos City. Brussel sprouts dodging my cloudcar as I flew in to the dilapidated Shack in a bad neighborhood. The little spuds just don't know how bad they have it. They just need more programs to save them from this invegetable life. Several of my fellow spuds and blue had placed a quarantine at the shed. Reporters trying to get a buck off of the freak show inside, animals! Sergeant tried to block my path.

"This is a crime scene Detective!" I became bitterly resentful.

"Somebody's got to catch that Bad Apple!"

The sergeant looked at me confused.

"But we got him 'em!"

I looked at him perplexed. I would have thought that guy had ran all the way down to the Banana Republics by now. The sergeant allowed me to follow him into the broken down squatters Palace. Upon entering the building a strong, smell of stale butter filled room. It began to smell like a movie theater on opening night. Every wall was coated with butter, the floor was filled with nearly six inches of truffle butter, twisting and sneaking through every crevice of the hard broken concrete floor. And then came the monsters masterpiece. On an old wooden table like a sacrificial alter, layed the corpses of three slain broccoli children. Each of their randomly growing branches sliced enticed into a highly organized hors d'oeuvre tray. Reminiscent of the brutality or previous Masters. Arranged silver salad bowls there green silky stocks were dipped into gallons of melted Country Crock.

The Rage of the site filled my soul and I wanted to meet creature responsible. And there he sat grinning in the corner of the room with several other officers guarding him from the rest of us. The fully mature broccoli stock tilted his head up with an evil menacing stare, and a grin that made me shudder to this very day. His green leaves unkempt, his body covered in butter and the green vegetable juices of his slain children.

All my life I had never believed in evil. But when you see it in real life changes you. It hardens your heart and makes you look at the world with a cold stare as and stairs at you with the same dark herbivore stare.

#writing prompt by ZO AI

Maur greys

You are incredible! I don't know why you aren't more popular

Everyone starts small.

my tower girl, giant penguin princess, she can crack icebergs with her thighs

just a’little practice on my old intuos.

Some sketches I posted on my Twitter awhile ago. Check out Bogexplosion (@bogexplosion): https://twitter.com/bogexplosion?s=09

some rotoscoping.