Hello folks,
The time has come to reveal the answers to the most recent installment of Matthew Draws. If you want a refresher before the drum roll, click here.
Unfortunately, there is little mystery this time around. Whether Robbi chose particularly untricky subjects or my drawing prowess has dramatically increased of late (unlikely), most of you had a pretty good idea who I was trying to draw. That, or in light of the particularly public guessing format this time around, most of you are just exceptional cheats. I’ll let the jury remain hung on this one.
So here we go.
All but two of you correctly identified Michael Jackson. The two wrong guesses included Katie Couric (which delights me to no end) and Marcia Cross. Was it the cheekbones that gave him away? I think it was the cheekbones.

Mystery guest number two was slightly more baffling. In addition to several correct guesses of Humphrey Bogart, other offers included John Wayne, Gene Kelley, Frank Sinatra, and the Phantom of the Opera mixed with The Lone Ranger.

Alas, few of you hesitated to identify subject number three as Diana, Princess of Wales. Though several of you suggested that she might be Queen Elizabeth instead. The person who suggested that Diana looked as if she had “a bunch of tattoos” obviously failed to recognize my artful depiction of her lovely lace garment.

My final subject was the least mysterious of all. Every one of you correctly identified jocular filmmaker Michael Moore. I suppose I should be flattered, but instead I find myself feeling hollow inside.

Thanks to those of you who offered speculation as to what offspring might result from the union of Diana and Mr. Moore. Guesses included Pinocchio, Princess Mi, Seth Rogen, the Dinty Moore Mascot, John Cleese, Little Princess Blanket Mike (?), and Idiots’Books subscriber extraordinaire Scott Ellis (who I’m guessing was so implicated on account of his being British).
Thanks, all, for participating. By the time the next installment rolls around, Robbi will be reestablished in her rightful perch on the other side of the studio, and my unpleasant technological shortcomings will be soundly rectified.




Hmm. Am I to be more appalled by beard guy or dead princess? Such choices! Secondary of course to my horror at my current nationality-related issues.
Greetings from Belfast btw, I am surrounded by visiting American professors at a conference confused about where they are/how they got here (“are we in Britain?” “What’s that accent?” “Is this a Euro?” “Can I do the rest of Ireland in an afternoon?”) and I’m having great fun confusing them further. Especially the dude from the University of Northern Iowa. :)