Photoshopped poorly on a pile of books, my arms crossed, and a big fuck you look on my face, with giant blowups of other angry fuck you expressions.
Though maybe it's not a fuck you face, but more of an "I've grown weary of you and after evaluating your artistic output I'm trying to decide if I want to projectile vomit in your face."
I'm going to spend today practicing that look.
Actually, maybe not.
I've always assumed that I would grow up to be a DILF, so maybe the look should have more of a "Look, I've got shit I've got to do and I should spank you for making me put up with your crappy art but you'll probably get a boner so I won't" sort of vibe.
(Picture is taken from Vice Magazine's overly-fawning interview with Harold Bloom.)
