Originals

Do you wear black turtlenecks? Black berets? Black socks? Do you curse in French? Do you also curse in other languages? Do you sneer at puppies? At defenseless children?

If you answered ‘yes’ to all or most of these, then you must be an artist! Reward yourself with this self-portrait!

SOLD AT AUCTION. Sorry!

Even when you’re a rather large man with a very long scarf, you still need to get the opera on time. Even if your motorcycle is especially small. Even if all you have for a hat is a funny little bomber helmet.

SOLD AT AUCTION. Sorry!

The world is full of things that bite and scratch and howl and prey, so when you find a hole in a tree, it’s good to spend a moment there, catching your breath, peering out, clinging to whatever you can find. On the other hand, it’s bad to have a long yellow beak that protrudes like a beacon, in spite of your best attempts to be inconspicuous.

This is an illustration by Robbi Behr of Idiots’Books, who lacks a beak but draws attention to herself anyways on account of her horrible haircut.

For now, this illustration is only available via our Ebay auction, but we will post it here for sale next week.

Captain A-OK is the best kind of superhero. He's not a hyperbolic drama queen. He's the kind of superhero that reassures you that things are, well, just okay. Just like Oklahoma is OK. Not great. Maybe not worth stopping anywhere if you're driving through, but you probably won't get carjacked either.

It many be true that no man is an island, but a whale can surely look like one. Alligators and wildebeests might benefit from tiny birds to clear the insects from their backs, but whales prefer to sun themselves unhampered and unlanded-on.

SOLD AT AUCTION. Sorry!

Listen up, parents: eventually you have to stop sitting on your offspring, even if it leaves you with a cold rump and no one to devour the things you regurgitate.

SOLD AT AUCTION. Sorry!

It has happened to us all. We lift the jug to our eager lips and take a swig only to discover a moment too late that the milk has gone bad, our mouths are full of clotted chunks, and the heavens are just a bit more calcium enriched than they were before the expiration date. Note that the reverse side of this illustration features Robbi’s original sketch for the piece, in which the departed souls of a number of badly overripe food items are seen departing the earthly host. She ultimately decided the illustration worked better when simplified, the same of which is often true for Robbi herself.

Sorry, SOLD at auction!

Our mission accomplished, we’ve decided to leave. There’s nothing left to do or see or harvest. The factories succeed us—our heirs, our shining legacy. We’re off to share our efforts with some other lucky place.

This is an illustration by Robbi Behr of Idiots’Books, who has never been to space, and is utterly confounded by the notion of infinity.

Sorry, SOLD at auction!

Beware the calm you sense, the stillness of the air. All seems well at the edge of camp, but on the wind, the scent of smoke, a distant crackle as the green wood hisses, then explodes into a beautiful manner of abandon. This is an illustration by Robbi Behr of Idiots’Books, who does not start forest fires, at least not actual ones, at least not knowingly.

For now, this illustration is only available through our Sorry - SOLD!

It is often observed that women love flowers, but perhaps the fascination extends beyond mere aesthetics. What happens when lines are blurred? What does it mean to be fertile? What kind of dry cleaning bill is this woman going to have? If we were to pour water on her head, would we be doing her a favor? Have you ever beheld a more provocative image of a woman with flowers growing out of her shoulder?

SOLD AT AUCTION. Sorry!

Life isn’t fair, and no one feels the sting of appearance-based inequity more deeply than the lanky lagomorph. While cute white fluffy cousins hide colorful eggs and elicit joyful shrieks from wide-eyed youths on Easter morning, the homely hare does his best to find an empty corner from which hunker and gape wide-eyed at the angry world of better looking bunnies. Inviting scorn and fearful of the dentist, he dreams of being caught by hounds that his misery might finally draw to a close.

This is an illustration by Robbi Behr of Idiots’Books, who had a rough go of it in middle school and occasionally sublimates her lingering pain through drawings of creatures even more pathetic than her adolescent self.

Sorry, SOLD!

For those who long to get away from it all (but cannot seem to make it happen), just hang this illustration on your wall and dream of life in your peaceful cottage on the banks of the bubbling blue river. Just remember to be careful when you step outside, lest you plummet to your death. Sometimes paradise is treacherous, however green and full of life the nearby hills might seem.

SOLD AT AUCTION. Sorry!

If your nose is so long that it drags on the ground, then you’re probably an elephant. And you’re probably smiling because it’s just great to weigh eight tons, have tusks, and sport a rosy butt and kneecaps.

SOLD AT AUCTION. Sorry!

Beware the calm you sense, the stillness of the air. All seems well at the edge of camp, but on the wind, the scent of smoke, a distant crackle as the green wood hisses, then explodes into a beautiful manner of abandon. This is an illustration by Robbi Behr of Idiots’Books, who does not start forest fires, at least not actual ones, at least not knowingly.

Sorry, SOLD at auction!

We are an industrious people. We build, we make, we grow, we expand, we colonize. There are lots of us. But there will always be more of them. Robbi saw this very scene on her way back from Toronto, immediately after crossing the border into the U.S. but didn't have time to take a picture.

Sorry, SOLD!

This is Dan. Corn fears him. As do we all. Dan judges fellow men according the size of their rear tires and by whether or not they have houses on the backs of their tractors.

SOLD AT AUCTION. Sorry!

She cannot sleep and so she dives into the sea and looks around. The world below the sky is strange and colorful. She does not rest until each shell is turned, each kind of fish considered. She floats and hides and waits and watches. The thing she’s looking for might not be here. The ocean will not tell her.

This is an illustration by Robbi Behr of Idiots’Books who couldn’t sleep last night.

Sorry, SOLD!

It’s not that nice guys always lose, it’s that they never win. While all the tough guys get the girls and ride with them on motorcycles, the kindly fellow sits at home, polishing his bronze medal, thankful that he’s even on the podium.

For the time being, this illustration is only available through our Ebay auction, but we will post it here for sale next week, provided no one has a penny to spare.

Let’s start with what this week’s auction isn’t: a portrait of Elvis Aaron Presley, King of Rock and Roll. To be clear: this is a portrait of an Elvis impersonator, and a pretty terrible one at that. To be even clearer: this is a portrait of a terrible Elvis impersonator, not a terrible portrait of an Elvis impersonator. The portrait is at least passable, but the Elvis impersonator is inarguably awful.

As further disclaimer: this image is not rendered on velvet, though Robbi admits that it would be a lot more badass if it were.

SOLD AT AUCTION. Sorry!

Bowlers, berets, beanies, and coonskin caps are all outstanding kinds of hats, but none possess the flair and warmth of genuine penguin.

SOLD AT AUCTION. Sorry!

We all hate cats. It’s natural. But sometimes we find ourselves in need of feline support, a thing that cats are always willing to offer in spite of our constant urge to do them harm. The lesson: don’t climb trees. It’s foolish. The other lesson: do not kick cats, however much you might be tempted.

Sorry, SOLD at auction!

Those hoping for scantily-clad coeds in fur-lined pink parkas will be disappointed only for a moment. Zombie rabbits never have to wait in lift-lines and make great conversation over cocoa back at the lodge.

SOLD AT AUCTION. Sorry!

It’s hard to be a monkey when the world has such high standards and your dad is so much bigger and your fur is totally infested. This is an illustration by Robbi Behr of Idiots’Books, who has never had lice, but does have to endure seasonal infestations of barn-based bedbugs.

Sorry, SOLD!

Underneath the sky, beneath the mountains and the meadows, buried by the roots and rocks and clay, the train rolls on along its tracks. The lights are on inside. The people read their magazines. They don’t know where they’re headed, but it’s somewhere.