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No I am NOT, I repeat, I am NOT :iconmisjudgment:. My name is Sidney, and this my real account :iconrolf-fan-girl:
BUT since Misjudgment deactivated her account a few months ago, I decided to set up a MEMORIAL ACCOUNT in her honor, so we won't forget her and we can still enjoy all the wonderful art she made.
I am not trying to pose as Misjudgment or steal her art, I am merely setting up this account to keep her memory alive, so yes, I will be re-uploading all her artwork to this gallery so fans of Misjudgment can continue to enjoy them.
If or when she ever comes back to this website, I will delete this account.
I know I should have waited a year or two before doing this, but I am a HUGE fan of her work and I miss seeing her art around, she made some of the best and most well-known Ed Edd n' Eddy fan pieces on this site. So this account is just here so we can continue to admire her work.
I hope you guys can continue to enjoy Misjudgment's wonderful contribu
''Had to draw it.
I'm going to guess she would be about one to three years old here...
and if she appears call, it's the outfit she's wearing.
Hope you like it.''
Comments she received on this deviation:
Inspector Wolf The old lady was dead. I could smell it before I even got into the house. The whole place reeked of adrenaline, sweat, fear, copper and steel. He’d dropped her right in her living room. Chopped and chopped until she stopped moving. But I could tell I was getting close. This had been done in a hurry, and the killer didn’t have the time to clean up after himself like he usually did.
Across the room, the phone rang. The shrill sound set my teeth to grinding, but I ignored it. Instead I followed the killer’s bloody footprints into the back bedroom. He’d climbed out the window. If I hurried, I could catch up to him and end this disgusting spree he was on.
Then the answering machine kicked in. “Hi, Gramma! It’s Red. Sorry I’m running late. I kind of lost track of time. But don’t worry. I packed the picnic and I’m heading out the door right now. Love you.”
She’d been expec
The TrundlerThe waste land behind the fire station is always silent. No birds sing there, and even the wild rabbits and feral cats avoid it. Weedy wildflowers nod their seasonal heads in the breeze. Lying fallow in the midst of housing developments, shopping malls, the new movie theater — the vacant lot stands out like a knife wound on a woman’s placid face, shocking, brazen, ugly.
It is always empty. Except for one thing: a ragged heap of old trash, all nasty black tar paper and vicious snarls of rusted wire, car parts and broken glass and other junkyard jetsam. The embodiment of injury waiting to happen, an invitation to a tetanus shot... the city never hauled it away. No one ever wants anywhere near it; it radiates an eerie sense of calculating watchfulness.
And at night, it wanders.
When darkness falls, and the last cars heading into the hives of tract housing stop illuminating the asphalt with moving-picture shadows, it… unfolds. Bitter, broken tangles, grotesquely mov
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More