Instead of finishing the last piece I posted as I said I would do, I decided to instead start a new one and then not finish it either. This one got a lot closer - and perhaps technically it is finished, since I probably won't work on it any more...
...an astute observer commented in the last post that Freud would probably have more to say about the woman's phallic neck than the tiny tyrannosaurus appendages...and now it seems I've done it again. I suppose I could argue that THIS woman has no neck...Her body connects to her head without the use of such a device! Which begs the question, where then does her boyfriend give her hickeys? Or does he? He obviously has issue with her breath, so perhaps he rarley even gets closer than pictured here...and so the vicious circle! She becomes stressed out because she doesn't feel loved and her breath gets worse! What with the worse breath, he (let's call him Mr.Hatsworth) can't be within a 3 meter radius of her without vomiting! She smells said vomit and vomits herself! Now her halitosis is lined with the aroma of vomit! He becomes continually frustrated until he leaves her and moves to Boise, Idaho where he drinks himself into a stupor on cheap vodka and falls down a flight of stairs breaking his neck..(he has one)
...She doesn't hear the tragic tale until several weeks later when Patricia Hatsworth (Mr. Hatsworth's sister) drops by with the news. In a fit of despondance, she drinks a bottle of toilet cleaner only to find it gets rid of the halitosis once and for all. She goes onto become a model on a cheap Canadian game show and has a torrid affair with the host. Then she gets hit by a truck.