Friday, September 8, 2006

A Letter To Greg Land

Dear Greg Land,

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I wish your mother showed up in your dreams and spit on you. And all your female relatives turned their backs on you. I wish you'd fall and trip on the sidewalk, and a little girl poured her ice cold soda on your crotch and said 'That's for us girls everywhere!'

It's bad that you trace. It's bad that pictures can be found that are exact copies of what you 'drew'. It's horrible that people keep talking about your so called fucking talent. When in actuality you'd be nothing without Justin Ponsor. It's Justin's color's that make your tracings come alive. He makes them pop. He makes them eye catching. He makes them dynamic because what he does is build depth into a coloring book. That's how empty your drawing is.

But no. On top of all that, your porn face, blow up doll, easy access holes, women never seem to shut their fucking mouths. They're open all the time just waiting for a hard, warm, cock shaft to fill in their empty, brainless cock sucking, cum wanting, dick needing mouths in order to fulfill their destiny as cumslut fantasy whores with superpowers and perky sperm soaked breasts.

Why do your male characters get to smirk, sneer, grin, smile with their mouths closed or when they do talk, do so with the barest breath space between top lip and bottom? But your female characters are always trying to double team the dongs with mouths open wider than if they were at the fucking dentist.

Open mouth for screaming.

Open mouth for sighing.

Open mouth for frustration.

Open mouth for sadness or shock.

Do the hordes of fanboys who flock to your defense have no idea the reason they're so tuned into you, and like you so much, is because you present some of the comic's world strongest women as nothing more than eager, wet, fuck holes, just waiting to be filled by a real man?

Jeeze you peanutbutter on a pogo cheese stick! You can't order a couple subscriptions to like Women's Fittness and Health? Hell even Cosmo has women looking as if they're intelligent to go along with their heaving, ripe tits. There are fashion magazines and erotica coffee table books that have nudes in interesting poses with intelligence in their eyes and closed mouths.

Anita Blake; Vampire Hunter is supposed to be a comic book sometime soon. I suggest you get your ass away from Marvel's actual interesting titles and go do that. Because you could be up to your neck in 'hot wet tightness, so wet, so hot, so tight, so fuckable' in no time at all. Unless of course the comics stick to the first ten books in that series and the strong female protagonist actually stays a strong female protagonist and not someone who's a slave to her sex drive.

The characters you are tracing are women, Greg. Women. Women as in, your sister, your mother, your little cousin. Women in control. Now it's quite possible that other than your mother, your sister and your little cousin you've never interacted face to face, within six inches of a real woman, but they do exist. I'd suggest you start watching tv shows like 'Sex and the City'. Because for all the whining and Jimmy Choo lusting; those are women. I'd also suggest 'The Closer' on TNT. 'Bones' and DVD's of 'La Femme Nikitta'. If you pay careful attention you'll see that these leading women think before they act and when they do act, their mouths are not perpetually open.

I'd also suggest you talk to Jenna Jameson and see if Asia Carrerra is still keeping up her porn website. Asia has been retired for a few years, but she had lovely interactions with her fans and she's a bonified and proud geek. I'm sure she could find the time to explain to you that not even porn stars keep their mouths open all the time. No, Greg, they're not wired open with dental implants and flushed with constant injections of silicon into their lips. They're women with backpain, and gas, and bad days, and stress, and breakouts, and cravings for fried chicken or pizza or chili-dogs, who want to spend time on the internet surfing, who read comics and do cross word puzzles and live in ratty jeans and old flannel in the comfort of their own homes.

Oh, did I burst your bubble? Deal. It's called being a man. Now gather those peanuts you call balls and try drawing or tracing an actual woman for once.

No Love,

[[ This post inspired by the pictures posted and the cluelessness of the defenders in this interaction. I found myself wondering if these guys couldn't see the sexual harassment because Sue's goddamn mouth was open like a porn star just asking for it. And given that men are visual, I suddenly wondered if her open mouth was skewing their perception of the set up going on; if subconsciously they thought, but this is the 'Rebellious Land Bitches & The Ocean King 4: Hot Wet Touches' ]]

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