![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEjd4Dv_fJbOZjEyjXXK6T3hQn3yqP_12uA9fyMlKdthjn3jN47WTzsQzUbA1i79_iuaD2lrFOIJlMngnzNlKaA9xswMqbkVxkoLMT9Gkiothq3oM33e-Y2pdedSK0IMXErCfBszxwD5k/s400/punchface_dorse.jpg)
I was sketching in a coffee shop the other day, and some blabbermouth was yammering away on his cell phone at the next table. I can usually tune people out when I'm drawing, so after a minute I forgot he was there. No problem.
But the artist friend I was sitting with was obsessed with the guy. She kept leaning in, her dyed-black goth hair tangling in my pencil, whispering, "Look at that guy. Will you just look at him? I wanna punch his face." I'm on deadline, so I ignored her. But she kept it up for ten minutes! "Look at his face! It's exactly the kind of face you just wanna punch."
I knew I wouldn't get any work done if I didn't look, so I turned around. You can tell by my caricature this guy would crack like an egg if you hit him. So consider this sketch a public safety announcement. If you have this face, look out. There's at least one crazy art chick who's looking to clean your clock. -v
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