Everything I draw ends up wearing a bow-tie

I think one of the purest friendships I’ve had was when I was studying in Vancouver- there was this girl who was in one of the other classes who was Japanese, and I met her during the first weeks of being there while orientation was happening and all the classes were kind of bumping around each other.

We smiled and talked a little and after a while she asked “Are you from UK?” To which I said yes, I was, which resulted in her giving me the biggest smile and throwing her arms out wide saying “Yay! We are island buddies!” And I was like damn this is clearly the greatest person in the world so I did the same thing while these people on the street were walking past probably being mightily confused at these two loony kids yelling “ISLAND BUDDIES!” at each other.

After that whenever we saw each other even at a distance we’d wave and yell “Island buddies!” at each other and it was so awesome I hope she’s doing well.

Anonymous asked: I love your lop-sided smile, is that rude to say? I don't mean to be rude I mean it's really nice how it's so different on both sides

not rude at all, in fact it’s time for Story Time with Mod because there’s a very silly reason for that (and it’s one of the reasons I quite like my diagonal grin)- 

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Anonymous asked: so we all know you're actually a cartoon trapped in a 3D felshy realm but how old were you when you had your first existential crisis, exactly?

Okay so you’re joking but I’m not because I remember it and it was during my first year of secondary school which would make me eleven years old.

Biology class, first term: we are all getting to know each other still and today we’re doing genetics- the teacher asks us to separate into groups according to our eye colour, pointing to different corners of the room for brown, grey, green etc. etc.

I, blithe and unsuspecting, wander up to the ‘blue’ corner, being of exceedingly blonde hair, freckle-specked chalk complection and (up to that point in time) thinking that I most definitely had blue eyes.

The blue eyes do not agree; “you have grey eyes, go to the grey eyes group.”

The grey eyes do not agree; “you have green eyes, go to the green eyes group!”

The green eyes then inform me that I have blue eyes and the net result of this exercise was that I, of eleven tender years and no particular intrinsic attatchment to the colours blue or grey or green am left, stranded in the middle of the room like a lone chicken sandwich at a vegetarian buffet. The other groups have by this point solidified, making my abandonment all the more excrutiating, whilst internally my brain begins to fervently question all the other things I thought I was very sure of about myself and how likely it was that I was just as wrong about those things, and perhaps in that case I wasn’t anything at all like I thought I was and who exactly was I anyway?

I am asked, sternly, why I am still stood in the middle of the classroom by the teacher and promptly burst into tears.

I still do not know what colour my eyes are, and to this day I have never found any two people who agree on the subject, the end!

fun fact; as a child I coveted boxes and this one time we got a few huge ones for some reason and my older sister got the biggest and I got this sort of funny narrow one but I could fit in it just fine at the start so I called it my ‘stable’ (because I was super into donkeys and shit) and we had them in our bedroom for absolutely ages as dens and it was great

anyway we kept growing (as childers tend to do), but we loved the boxes and refused to get rid of them and I kept getting into mine somehow in increasingly bizarre configurations I mean I remember basically being slotted into this damned box on my back with my left leg sticking out the top and the rest of my body and limbs flumped in the bottom like some weird noodle snake I USED TO FALL ASLEEP IN THERE I DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW but I also remember it being super comfy and relaxing-????

but yeah people asking me why I like/am pretty okay at drawing people sleeping or being floopy in super weird ways

that me

Anonymous asked: have you always been a tom-boy-ish kind?

Yes! Although I don’t think I was ever cool enough to be regarded as a tom-boy. I think the best way to exemplify that is one of my proudest moments when one of my teachers at school remarked; “Sarah, you make an atrocious lady, but you make an excellent gentleman.”

but seriously once I was leaning on a table at uni in Wales (so I guess you couldn’t see my, er, chest dimensions that easily) and this massive rugby guy came and tapped me on the shoulder asking if I ‘had a light, boyo’ and I sat upright to answer without thinking anything about it and the colour just fucking left his face it was pretty hysterical

Anonymous asked: omg I just read the tags for that Poirot picture you reblogged- #there was this one time someone nearly opened a door into my face and I balked and said #I SAY #really freakin loud #my class didn't let me forget it for months #but yeah I got called Captain Hastings a few times after that #so I have a soft spot for him too ;w; MOD IS THIS TRUE

YES AND I’M NOT EVEN KIDDING I’VE NEVER SAID THAT PHRASE SINCERELY BEFORE OR AFTER IN MY LIFE BUT THAT SURE WAS A THING THAT HAPPENED

Okay, so, true story time.

I once owned a guineapig named after a type of WW2 bomb.

Well, actually, that’s a little imprecise; the guineapig was adorable and lovely, and me being the adorable and lovely child that I was gave it an adorable and lovely sounding name;

Doodlebug.

I wondered at the time why my parents looked slightly surprised at the choice, but I supposed it was just because it was such a fantastic name because I was the genius that all 6 year olds are convinced that they are. It was only later that I learned that this word also happened to be the name for the V-1 flying bomb which featured heavily in the second World War (this unpleasant motherfucker right here), but the name was awesome and to be fair guineapigs are kind of shell-shaped anyway and like hell I was going to change it. So technically it wasn’t named after a bomb it just happened to be called exactly the same thing.

Anyway yeah

explosive guineapig missiles

get that shit.