Medical Whiskey is a sketchblog dedicated to sharing our creative endeavors.
A brief introduction to the Medical Whiskey – by panties
We’re Medical Whiskey. The name came out of random name generator. I am not sure which one of us are the alcoholics.
We we draw shit. Sometimes it looks a little better than shit. Most of the times it is at about par with shit. Sometimes we actually draw shit, but most of us are bad at doing life studies. We eat corn all the time.
Our members are many with goals intertwined, conveluted, and possibly opposing. World domination, feeding the poor, freeing the oppressed, get money, get paid, get bitches, undisclosed homosexual urges, and comradery could all be possible motives.
And now I will talk about the members of this heroic fighting force:
Has lead a successful hostile takeover of MW. It was decided that being cofounder was not enough, it would have to be all or nothing glory. Lies were woven, doubt was spread, and an uprising started. Few good soldiers were lost, as most of MW lacked a soul or shame, which lead to a very mellow dramatic handover. Still a validation seeking whore, panties now seeks it on behalf of Medical Whiskey and revels in the shallow fucks that are thrown its way. Drunk with power because alcohol is no longer enough, panties now seeks the world.
Is sort of like the hermit on the mountain. He may be the only one of us capable of growing a substantial amount of facial hair, and on his trips to the town will destroy the soul of some impressionable loli. We are not sure if he does not enjoy the taste of vanilla, or simply prefers his flavors in the categories ranging from painful to broken. We try to keep him from the local schools, as most of his advice will be of against moral standards or an awkward declaration of his perversions. Few weaknesses are found in his character; likelihood of tsundere is low. Likelihood of tsundere survival in care even lower. Pretty cool guy.
Is not very threatening or conducive to catastrophe as his name would imply. We are unsure if he has any notable fighting ability at all. There is no evidence of his existence prior to the collapse of Chernobyl, and dinosaurs have spoken of somebody fitting his description. It was later found that he had not yet been born at the time Chernobyl, and the dinosaurs merely describing Jesus. He has LEGO’s, but he is not an engineer or good at maths. Maybe he is just a huge irony.
Has a fanclub. Panties have been wetted over the sound of his voice, rifts have formed in friendships over the color of his glasses. So great is his power over the hearts of this generation’s backstreetboys fans that he has removed himself from civilization to protect humanity. In the far unmapped North wilderness that is Edmonton, he creates his love letters to the world in painfully slow tedium. Those occasional glimmers of his existance are like touches of a catholic priest.
Seemingly wallows in her ample endowment. While some are reserved with slight jealousy of the fact(s), the rest of us are wary to the inevitable childhood traumas such a girl would sustain. She lives in the same city as Rift, after all. The subject matter of her drawings does not alleviate our concerns and we have repeatedly tried to intervene at the behest of Raemz. We think she’s broken, but we do not know how to answer these perverse cries for help.
Visits when her parole office allows it. We speak softly about what happens offline. They are dark moments. We’ve seen things, unspeakable things. She’s killed a man. Tetsu used to have a kitten; Kaname said it looked at her funny. She’s even taken on the Crypts and the Bloods. At the same time. There were no winners. We’re not allowed to say much more without putting ourselves at risk. Please be nice to her. For our sake as well.
Ponies. Fucking ponies man. He’s not having sex with ponies, not that we know of… But yea, those are ponies. He’s eyeball sexing you with small horses.
Is not quite as good as the rest of us. Please excuse our young Kohai if her art just isn’t up to par with the other posts. It was a long and arduous journey for Ippus, climbing the summit of Medical Whiskey. How could she possibly compare with the titans at the top of this mountain? Our fame, swagger, and undeniable skill puts our standards out of reach of most artists, especially the lowly plebeians of just one or two million pageviews. Even the great classics would have trouble approaching without trial. We were initially unimpressed by her meager attempts at gaining our attention. The rudimentary set of skills displayed only the most minimal understanding of form, color, and context. The slightly overused dead expression, textbook color saturation, and mildly delicious thighs felt merely commonplace among peasants. We had no need for another scrub on our heroic fighting force; we can only be as strong as our weakest link. Still, we applauded her efforts as a young and inspired artist. Putting herself out there for the inevitable criticism of being compared to the juggernauts of MW takes courage beyond the heart of average men. Even after Kaname laughed in her face and told her to “go die with that other faggot, Spike,” she pleaded her case. Ippus’ constant efforts to seek our advice and learn from our teachings have bolstered the testicular fortitude of our collective egos. She inherently knew we were the best and wouldn’t settle for less. She wanted to be as awesome as us. Finally, somebody who recognized the suffering of constantly having to maintain our repressed power levels. We simply could not let such an empowering sensation go to waste. The vain motivations of some of our core members were laid bare with this aquisition. Maybe she is horrible at this drawing thing, but dammit… it’ll make the rest of us look good. We’re like the fat chick keeping an even fatter chick to be relatively skinny. Except it’s just our soul and art that’s ugly. Look forward to the day Ippus becomes as awesome as the rest of us, her intuitive deduction of our true abilities indicates at least some potential. Until then, we’ll just have to carry her weight. It’s what Raemz would have us do.
Is our guidance and life mentor. Many ask how we manage to hold true to our morals in this dark alley of tentacles, macros, and ponies. She’s taught us how to shave with a straight blade, dress a whole carcass, and do our taxes. She steered our lives straight, gave us direction and the father character none of us had. Doom would be sucking dicks for crack if not for her, panties plunged into a world of horse fucking perversions, and MW a sad pit of sociopathic deviants. We owe our upstanding lives to this woman. What would Raemz do? She’d do right.
Wants a new bio written up for her. What am I supposed to say? She’s a little asian girl, but that would describe almost half the members of MW. She’s a little asian girl that cosplays and draws a lot. That narrows it down a bit more. She’s a little asian girl that cosplays a lot and draws and has dere dere moments. That seems specific enough.
Is a recovering addict. Not from alcohol, but a far more condensed evil. She traded her soul to destroy a tower. She sold out her friends for an extra creep kill. “I wanna shoot something,” she said. “Nothing can hold me back.” But no, as true brothers in the battle against gay shit, we are trying to save her. We promised to be friends for more than forty minutes and not scream racist threats at each other. Instead, we prefer to slander people more specifically. Like EU.
Has left us, that beautiful beast. Our busts were not enough.
Could possibly be a figment of our collective imagination. A mass hallucination brought a long by rampant alcoholism, wild sex orgies, and incidents of ultra-violence. We’ve watched tons of movies with those themes, so it was only be a matter of time before our rotted minds and internalized shame fabricated a pure distillation of modern faggotree. So potent was this tree that consumption of its fruit blessed the individual with an imaginary friend of mildly excessive awesome. Raemz was the first to consume the fruit and called it her sister. We called it Gebyy.
Has forced panties to change his bio description of a flat chested little asian girl, as it was just describing Kiriririn. A childhood friend of purely platonic origin, she is just as confusing as her name implies. Is it Kiririririn? Or Just Kiririn? Most of us have struggled to figure it out, and very little can be found of her online. So we kept her as a secret weapon for MW; for when Kekekekeke faced inevitable demise, we would have Kiriririririn.
We had originally wanted a fellow horse loving friend for our beloved 123hamster, who was feeling sad with the invetible declining popularity of ponies. Also a small chinese girl for gebyy’s birthday. Unfortunately, finding a horse fucker amidst the socially acclimated proved to be a challenge. And despite searching through most of the trash cans of China’s one child rule, finding suitable sacrifice with a body robust enough was unfruitful. All we had available was a furry drawing chinese dude. Close enough.
Yea, I bet you’d love to know more about NaSO, eh? EH?! Not a fucking chance you sick pervert. She’s a good girl. Buried beneath the dead ahegao eyes and heavy mouth breathing is a pure maiden. She might be no good for marriage and she might be the one making other girls no good for marriage, but we won’t let you marry her. Not a chance, neckbeard. We saw her first.
We are organizing a search party to find the body. There have been no volunteers.
Doyora (On the great adventure)
Sometimes life will get even the best of us. Where are you now, sweat prince?
We’ll give them all links and shouts (at their behest) when a link page finally gets made.
all girls depicted in NSFW positions are (hopefully) over the age of consent, depending on your location. We care less about the boys.