Clients from Hell is “a collection of anonymously contributed client horror stories from designers.” It’s aggravating, cathartic, and very fun to read. A recent highlight:
“I understand that you prefer to use photoshop, but we don’t feel like that program is universal enough. If you could do all of the design work in Microsoft Paint it would be easier for us to edit what you do and give you an idea of the changes we want.”
I haven’t simultaneously shuddered and laughed this much in a long time. You can also follow along on twitter.
Also I took this quiz thing and it has told me that my brain processes and the way I socialize is androgynous and that my "psychological state has prevailed since childhood" (THIS IS NO SURPRISE). It's pretty interesting though.
also these things from oik, dur. 1. naem any rpgs you have actually completed and why Lunar: Silver Star Story: I had to cheat to finish it (I leveled up to 99 with a gameshark, lolz) Lunar, GBA version: No cheating to beat it. I don't know why or how I did it though. I guess it wasn't really long. If Castlevania counts as an RPG (I don't think it does, even though you get levels and equipment and stuff): Portrait of Ruin, Aria of Sorrow, Dawn of Sorrow (relatively short, action-type battling, SOMETIMES RETARDED THINGS HAPPEN, replayability, easy to pick up again after a long absence) Fable II: The desire to try and make my character as evil as possible and the fact that I could still play after the main storyline was finished helped me finish it.
I have a hard time finishing RPGs due to length and the usual type of battlesystem (turn-based, which I hate). I've gotten really close to finishing all of these games though, which shows you how UNMOTIVATED I get after completing like 50 hours: Final Fantasy 7 Phantasy Star 4 Legend of Mana Kingdom Hearts 1, 2 Tales of Vesperia (I am about to finish this one, I got distracted by Castlevania) Lunar 2 Wild Arms THAT'S ALL I CAN THINK OF I AM SURE THERE ARE WAY MORE
2. wat is ur favorat colur BLUE
3. if major ocelot and destroy man got in a fight who would you bet on and why uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh oh god this is hard I would bet on Major Ocelot. He is pretty good at SURVIVING REALLY DUMB DANGEROUS SITUATIONS and Destroyman's laser nipz are a dumb dangerous situation.
4. if u wer in an animu wat wud u have as ur totaly coul theem song
I THINK IT'S ABOUT A GIANT PUDDING
5. me and jen want tshirts for christmas like the lambo one you made, will you do that? HELL YEAH BITCH
hey dudes. here's a poster illustration concept i came up with for school (the idea is that the kid is also a gun)(you probably already got that though):
I'm a little late on the holiday art sales train, but I just put up some original pieces up on Etsy. Some old, some new, and a range of prices. Here're some of the new:
I’ve been pretty quiet on the internet lately! Partially because I still haven’t gotten my computer fixed (mooching my roommate’s right now) and partially because I’ve been busy busy busy.
You may recognize this as a panel from a little comic I shared a long time ago. That little comic was just a test, sort of a rough draft of the first few pages of a big long book length comic that I’ve been writing and planning and thumb-nailing and rewriting for a couple of years now. Anyways, I’m finally drawing the damn thing for real and up above is a little sample of how it’s going to look. Updates may be sparse until I get a little further along with this comic (and until I get my computer fixed up), but hang in there friends!
And hey! Thanks so much to everyone that ordered a shirt! I do still have some left, if anyone is still interested.
so i am all trying really hard to draw and using reference photos and spending a lot of time and playing with smudging that i saw emmy do in that video she posted in her lj of her drawing and i am doing this like forever right and i am like oh man this is some hot shit even zombichicken will think i am not a total slackass about drawing and then
guys i will do better tomorrow i swear but jesus it has been a long day i worked late and there is all kinds of arguing happening
i drew a woodchuck and it looked really good and now it is gone
since this week will be the 10 year anniversarry of me getting laid NO VIRGIN FOR 10 YEARS WHUT WHUT ohgod old i declare it SURPRISE WEEK
well i ahve at least three so maybe i can make up more as it goes along SURPRISE ONE KICK FUCKING
I think this is the right place to post this question being a very large group dedicated to consensual kinky abuse. I apologize in advance if its incorporate, if so please delete. So im wondering if anyone has any experience with vaginal kick fucking. as id rather get a lot more information before experimentation. Im primarily interested in:
The best position: My thinking is on her back, with legs up and wide would work best. Ive considered K9 though the angle of entry in relation to the arc of the kick would not be conducive to successful penetration or balance for the kicker. Where as on her back on the floor would provide almost a direct penetration provided the at the lead foot is positioned near and to the outside of the recipients butt.
What would make a good warm up: I cant help but think that some very comfortable vaginal stretching would be required, probably on the scale of full dilation fisting of all the way in and out with each motion. (witch she's close to now) Though good muscle control would be required as well so that she didn't tense up too much at the moment of impact that would lead to actually damaging the tissue where a large, very aggressive penetration is the goal.
Industrial lubricants: The most appropriate i can think of is perhaps Crisco, witch ive used in anal fisting and found quite sickerly though I dont know how hygienic it would be for vaginal use.
Finally prep. I dont think its important to shave your feet (ive kinda got the hobbit foot going) though i think well trimmed nail, with toes taped together so they dont spread and maybe break the pinkie when caught on a labia. (Can you imagine the shame of stubbing ones toe on a labia?) After taping Im considering just putting a condom on my foot, for hygienic, reasons as well as to minimize any absorption of lubricant by my own skin thus reducing the effectiveness and increasing the odds of injury.
At the end of the day we're looking to achieve, a high impact penetration of about 4 inches (1/3 a size 11) that will only result in general bruising, no tearing of tissues. She's comfortable now with aggressive fisting (after a very long warm up session) that were it not the actual shape of my hand would be considered a punch. This she can endure 12-14 times orgasming almost non stop after the 4th or 5th thrust. We use about a gallon silicone based lubricant and rubber gloves that just about does it though breaks down pretty quickly once she starts squirting, so im hesitant on advancing to the foot with it.
Thanks for any insight, safety advice or feedback you may have.
GRAB THE CRISCO SHAVE YOUR FEET I FEEL A JUMPSTYLE REVOLUTION COMING ON
Originally published at Inkstuds. You can comment here or there.
Kevin Cannon joined the Inkstuds for a discussion about his Canucksploitation epic Far Arden. Be sure to check out his site, he has tons of great mini’s on there to read.
I am tired. This is probably because lately I have decided that sleep is for sillies. Yes.
So people who are named lordpantywaist deserve congratulations and luck and other nice things, because of the play that was tonight that I, regrettably, will be unable to attend (because exams are next week oh god). But I am sure they are amazing. And the next time I see her, she had better sing me that other song that she wanted to sing me or I will be so sad, I am not even kidding at all. I bet you are better than Bernadette Peters at it and I am in love with that woman no joke so that is high praise.
Trufax.
I was going to give up caffeine? I am not doing that ever again ever. I went immediately into, like, deep-spiral-of-despair or something. It was not nice. I was not nice to be around. I got tired of oozing angst from every damn pore or whatever, and now I am drinking coffee again, even though oh god I have no money no money at alllll. (Well, I do, but...Christmas.) It is kind of magically making itself appear in places I would like it to be.
I am also trying to exercise more because I live in a thirteen-by-sixteen-foot shoebox and it was slowly driving me insane. V. is gone a lot more now because her boy is nice to be around and she is happy and so I am, except that it means I spend a lot more time sitting. in. the. box. staring. at. the. computer. screen. waiting. for. death. So I go on walks instead.
Or I will, in the future, when I...feel like it.
Blah.
I rode my bike home and watched stupid television for three hours and ate food and drank coffee and just kind of...sat there, enjoying being in a larger box.
If you are reading this and nice things are happening to you, you should tell me about them a whole lot. And if you are, again, lordpantywaist , you should tell me about how the play went and other such things. BUT you should send me an e-mail, because I like them.
love mail collab with lala!!!! taste the whip, unicorn poniiii (lookit that turrrrd)
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hey and im in this!!!!!! buy it!!!!! & participate!!! it rules!!!! i got mine today !! it's a radical screenprinted zine, made in fucking awesome thick paper! all done under the beeautiful hairy hands of rand rendfrow, who also just released his own zine! CHCHCHCHCHECK IT OUT
Here is page one of a quick sketch comic I want to do over christmas. The plan is to keep it simple, just use pencils and photoshop. So that I can keep on working on the projects I have to do for other people. I feel pretty bad that I've not had any new comics of my table at cons recently so I wanted to get a mini done before I get into The Sea. The story is going to be my first attempt at a scifi comic. Set in a future where aliens use earth as a new casablanca, the main characters are UN weapons inspectors hunting for alien WMD's. For research I went to my local second hand comic tomb and bought a bunch of old 2000AD annuals, one of which includes a little Rogue Trooper full colour story. Anyway it's kind of late and I have a long day at work tomorrow...
Today I'm flying Finnair to Japan. It's been a couple of years, but that's okay; I like to leave long enough between trips for Japan's unfamiliarity and difference to gather afresh. Even if it's just for a few precious hours, I want to feel like a Japan virgin again.
If every time feels a little like the first time, what did the first time feel like? Well, I landed in Japan in 1992 and 1993 into a very particular time, place and culture. Anthropologists of 20th century Japanese subculture call the thing I encountered "Parco-Saison Culture". Press them for more precision and they'll distinguish those terms: the Parco Culture period actually lasted from 1975 to 1985, and the Saison period from 1983 to 1993. So technically, I arrived in "late Saison Japan". All the artifacts I saw and bought (Poison Girlfriend CDs, Sony Walkmans, copies of CUTiE magazine) are technically Late Saison Japan artifacts, bought from late Saison stores (Wave Records, Libro books). Even unrelated phenomena -- the Animal of Airs shop Hibiki Tokiwa kept in Aoyama, the Nadiff bookstore -- had close family ties to the Saison empire. Nadiff, for instance, was started by the manager of the Libro bookshop inside the Ikebukuro branch of Parco. In British terms, that's as if Magma had started life as a spin-off from Selfridges.
The Japan I witnessed in the early 90s consisted of a small hill between Shibuya Station and Yoyogi Park. Here was my hotel, the Tobu. Here was chic department store Parco, and the club where I played my concerts, the Quattro, located (it seemed bizarre at the time) atop a department store and reached by escalators which traversed the deserted sales floors after closing time. Here also were LOFT and OIOI, the Parco art gallery, the record store Wave, and the arty basement bookshop Libro (Saison Culture loves Italian names, clearly). Not far off was Muji, another specialty store owned by Seibu.
I didn't know it at the time, but my first Japan visit was circumscribed almost entirely by a world conceived and invented by one man, Seiji Tsutsumi. A novelist, award-winning poet, and one-time member of the Japanese communist party, the young Seiji inherited the department store business from his father. Yasujiro Tsutsumi founded the Seibu empire in 1912. Typically for Japan, it consisted of a department store (Seibu) and a railway line to bring people to it (the Seibu line). Seiji's half-brother Yoshiaki Tsutsumi, a much tougher cookie, inherited ten times as much as Seiji did when the old man died in 1964, and by 1990 Yoshiaki was estimated by Forbes magazine to be the richest man in the world, thanks to property and transport holdings in bubble-era Tokyo. But Seiji was the artistic one. He retired in 1991, but the Japan I first encountered bore his mark the way quattrocento Florence bore the imprint of the renaissance princes. (Like the princes, these magnates were financially corrupt, allied to the mafia, and autocratic, but that's another story, and one Seiji was well out of by the time the prison sentences were being handed down.)
While his half-brother (and rival) did business the way businessmen all over the world do, refined and cultivated Seiji got to work creating something rather more poetic; a cultural environment in Shibuya, a blend of art and commerce. A department store doesn't need an excellent art bookstore in the basement, its own culture magazine (Bikkuri House, which published 130 issues between 1974 and 1985, and whose readers were called "housers"), a concert venue, or a well-curated gallery. It doesn't need to commission arty postmodern posters and adverts from the likes of Eiko Ishioka, or music from Sakamoto and Hosono. But Seiji wanted Parco-Saison culture to have these facilities, and he had the power to make it happen. It's something we still see today -- look at the way Soichiro Fukutake, CEO of the Benesse Corporation, is revitalising the islands of the Seto Inland Sea with cultural patronage, art tourism, museums by international architects, and a series of commissions.
Seiji Tsutsumi left such a mark on shoppers that one blog account measures the separate impacts he had on a succession of Japanese generations, from the Baby Boomers and the Apathetics to the Juniors and the Blanks, and across a succession of cities (Parco brought Saison Culture to Sapporo in 1990, so the capital of Hokkaido lived its Saison a little later than Tokyo).
The YouTube clips reveal Parco's interest in sophisticated visual culture. I saw some of these commercials on my hotel TV during my first trips to Tokyo, but I didn't catch the earliest, purest phase of them. Art director Eiko Ishioka, for instance, was headhunted to make posters and TV spots for Parco in the late 70s after working for Shiseido. According to The Postmodern Arts by Nigel Wheale (Routledge, 1995): "In 1978 she directed a one-minute TV commercial to promote Parco, a new Japanese department store. The ad showed Faye Dunaway wearing a black dress against a black background, peeling and eating a hard-boiled egg. The department store name was faded up for the last few seconds of the action, and a low-key voice-over uttered a sentence in broken English: "This is film for Parco." The ad was highly successful, and Eiko rationalized its effects in terms of performance art: eating an egg was a totally "global act" done by rich and poor, advanced and developing peoples."
Much later, in 2001, I signed a deal with the Parco label Quattro (located directly across the road from the Loft store on the same Shibuya hill) and made a record for them with Emi Necozawa. It was deeply uncommercial, and sold almost nothing, but the label didn't seem to care. Perhaps that huge empire -- "Saison Culture" -- gave them a certain stability, even if it was achieved by sleight of hand. Four years later the police raided Seibu, and accusations of insider dealing and falsification of share ownership flew. The company was acquired by the owners of 7-Eleven. But Parco still stands on top of that hill in Shibuya. And although the money this time comes from a British University rather than Quattro-Parco concerts, the credit card that paid for my plane tickets carries the Saison logo.
Here's the last of catch up photos from Facebook [October-November] before I post travel photos! I swear! I update my Flickr and Tumblr more often than this. That must change!
My roommates here are so sweet &so much fun. I wish I could bring them back with me.
I feel like I can't even catch my breath here. December 15 I leave Italy. I don't even want to think about that.
Livejournal, my reticence and absence has been excusable! I'm sorry!
I just got home from a ten-day trip to the UK. The circumstances of my leaving make me very, very sad so I was tempted to pretend the trip never happened, but it'd be unfair to all the amazing people I met, and mostly to myself. This is going to be a weird post (posts, actually. a weird posts) because the dude in the post and I are not together anymore so I feel extremely extremely creepy and weird (and progressively creepier as I write this post), but no matter what the weather he and the clouds will still be beautiful and it'd be creepier to pretend like he wasn't there or anything. Anyway, it was great and I worked all summer to afford it and forgetting it would be impossible and unnecessary.
I arrived in Edinburgh on a Friday morning and the skies were predictably grey. James and I took a taxi to his sister Victoria's house where we were staying, and mostly spent the day napping and watching "2001 A Space Odyssey", which is a good date movie because it makes you want to die and throw up both at the same time.
We woke up on Saturday to a great change in weather: grey and rainy. I put on my 80s business suit and we hopped on a bus into the center of the city to see James's studio where he makes the books of comics. After dragging my dead body around on the floor, we took another bus to George Street and I giddily shoved James into every department store in the city. We were mostly searching for haggis, and if you'd think the one place you might be guaranteed to get haggis would be the middle of the, uh, SECOND biggest city in Scotland, then you are so wrong. I got my mom some Highland Koo shortbread from Marks & Spencer and ran through the aisles yelling about Jelly Babies. We bought a swede (THIS IS A RUTABAGA WOW), some carrots, and some potatoes and hopped on a bus back home. Mary is a dumbass and Scottish bus drivers do not abide dumbasses, so when I was alighting from the top part of a double decker bus, it lurched to a stop and I fell and slid down:
If you are thinking "ow", you are right for once. I doubted you when you thought you could get haggis in Edinburgh, but now I know you're really much smarter than I thought because OW. I hobbled back homewards and James drew an upside down face on my face (that's what that Dr. Burgers post was but I am pretty sure no one saw the upside down face) and maybe at 11 we finally started making the haggis, neeps, and tatties. We are master chefs, let me tell you. Instead of consulting a recipe, we sort of just boiled everything and hit it with a tennis racket and VOILA. We sat down to eat it on a beanbag, which is one of those things that are hard to get up from when you are sitting down. You might be tempted to put your feet in some haggis for leverage, and that's exactly what I did. And then James ate it.
On Sunday we went to see "Fantastic Mr. Fox", and it was great! It was a perfect Thanksgiving movie, and something very familiar and American (a Roald Dahl story American?! Noo) when I was so far from home. We came home and watched Coraline in 3D, which is extremely beautiful but not very good!
We really packed all of our adventure into Monday, which we started off with climbing the 287 steps of the Scott Monument (and we did indeed get a certificate for hoisting our lazy asses through the narrow stairways). Every time another set of tourists passed us I was sure someone was going to die, and I hope you guys won't think me a bad person for admitting I hoped it wasn't me. We went to H&M to replace our respective pairs of skeleton gloves (we weren't just getting matching gloves duh shut up). We walked across the bridge to the Royal Mile, and saw the cafe where J.K. Rowling wrote Harry Potter and ate at this crazy place called Frankenstein. It says "1818" on it so you know they actually built this burger pub the year Mary Shelley published her novel, which makes extensive mention of her love of burger pubs.
We went to (THE GODDAMN REAL AND AUTHENTIC AS OPPOSED TO THE FAKE) Mary King's Close, which is a medieval stretch of road in Old City that was built over in the 19th century. It has a lot of history associated with the plague outbreak and ghosts, and the tour involves the tour guide repeatedly scaring the shit out of French tourists by making loud stomping noises. We finished off the day with gingerbread latte!
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