Picasso-Esque Gato -- process continues

Eeewwww. The only drawback to having washed my fabrics for the Picasso Gato is that now they must be ironed. Have I mentioned that I detest ironing? It's somewhere down in the recesses alongside drying time. & dental visits. & sweet potatoes. Loathsome spray bottle (just ask Zoe); vile small appliance. Blatherskite wrinkly fabric anyway! [Fabric replies: "NEENER!"] Ironing OVER! Ok, it looks nice, but what's so bad about wrinkles, really? I have some on my face, after all -- I don't hear anyone complaining. [I better NOT hear anyone complaining!] Hung flat to prevent future need for ironing. Smart me. I hate ironing. Also WAAAAYYY out of reach of the feline furrball who shares my studio space. VERY important. Uh-oh, it's the Studio Inspector. & what did she have to say? "A gesso-ing we will go! A gesso-ing we will go, gesso in my chocolate toes, a gesso-ing we will go!" (whew, that means I can proceed.) This is my MuthaTub of gesso. One can never have too much gesso. [Or toilet paper, either -- let's have a round of applause on that one, huh ladies?] I love gesso'g canvas. Unlike my sentiments about ironing. I hate ironing. Every cat, even a Picasso-Esque Gato, requires an alley garbage can in which to rummage, right? But I need a mold to lay my clay over so it will hold the shape. Herein arrives this pony-sized Coors Light, which NO I did not drink before I started this post, but rather asked Double BB to save for me. Not one mold, but two! My pasta machine, strictly for use in smashing the be-jezuzzzz out of clay. This would be the 'crap' model, according to Miss V! Clay says, "Oh my, this is quite lovely - shiny and gleaming, like me. But I have flecks. Neener." "It's a dirty rotten trick! Help me! Help me!" Ever heard polymer clay screaming for mercy? It ain't pretty, kinda like lobsters before they go in the boiling water. Zoe had to cover her ears with her pawlets. "Farewell, cruel world! Remember me!" May spotted an opportunity to practice her Game Show Hostess technique. Not bad, except I think she needs a little work on positioning her feet.Clay meets Coors for a fitting. If all goes well, they might attend the Oscars together. Let's lose those raggedy edges, waddya say? Even polymer clay appreciates good tailoring.The alley cat trash can clay piece, ready to be toaster-ovened. Yes, toaster-ovened is a word -- it happens to be a verb. Yes, I'm sure, I made it up. I'm allowed to make up words; I read it in Poemcrazy. Neener. Sheldon couldn't resist, he's a guy (almost), he likes machinery & appliances. "Whoa, cool, what's this?" Hey, wha-aa-aa? Wait, whoa, hold it, Sister! I promise I'll be good! I'll pose any way ya want, really -- can we just, please, can we just TALK ABOUT IT?


What is Sheldon's fate? Will he escape certain crisping in the fearful toaster oven?

... to be continued.