Anyone here live in Pittsburgh? I'm going to start working there for 3 or 4 months and would like to know if the area around University Of Pittsburgh Medical Center is safe to walk around in. Also we could meet up for mini-swarm beers.
In my continuing attempts to keep playing around in the film biz a bit, I have jumped into a few other short projects.
Time for some venting!
You know I'm a giant meepbag. Me too. I just was sitting listening to Rush and remembered Schelle. We went to school together, and had band, so despite the fact that she meeping detested me, and I never quite go why,we spent a lot of time together.
Jesus meep, it has been some time since I wrote a journal, but I figured I would talk about one of the projects I've been a part of recently and would maybe start doing this a little more regularly.
Thus month's incredibly random project is brought to you by my dear brother's new girlfriend.
I have a job offer in Cleveland and would like to get feedback about school districts and neighborhoods. My job is downtown so where should I move? What suburb will be least likely for my kids to get bullied?
An opportunity arose for me to make the trip across the pond and meet up and make a royal meep of myself thanks to a pretty cool person, but the date clashed with something else happening in my life around that time. It's not all bad though. I guess in a few years time I find out how much girls can make a fathers life more, interesting.
Some time ago, just after finishing the Buffalo and after a couple of incredibly well-recieved workplace babecues, the LOVELY H.R. lady explained to me that I could be fired for "running a business" by charging $10 a head for all you could eat ribs, pulled pork, stuffed jalapenos, garlic bread and sides.
As I mentioned in Spanky's journal here, the Dragonspawn tried to burn the house down last night (not really, he just got a little careless with a cigarette meep and a rubbish bin). Now I have the lovely job of cleaning up and explaining to the landlord why the outside of his house is black instead of cream-coloured.
I think boys are easier to raise.
You know M_A_M, You raised a good question in the shoutbox: Why am I doing this?
Spanky Jr and meself hit Goat's place Saturday, dropped off three chests, took a shot of Jolly Rancher Whipped Cream Vodka (Tastes like a chick's drink. -Punches like a drunken stepdad.) then snatched up the vodka-stunned Goat and Pepper and took them to breakfast at the Otter Rock.
Who here fishes, does anyone apart from myself?
If I recall correctly, the last time in my life I cried was about 35 years ago, at 11 years old, when a grandparent passed away. It wasn't long after that that puberty hit, and I pretty much left most emotions behind. My sister would call me "Spock" at times, when something would happen that would shock the family and I would sit, stone faced, uncaring. When my father died I was 16 years old, and I felt nothing. Over the years, I lived through all the normal tragedies that people normally live through, deaths of friends and family, family members in car accidents, the old "Mom has cancer" or "You're friend is going to live, but he'll never be the same, his brain took too much damage", or any number of other dire proclamations, and even when I felt something, I had no problem hiding it. I grew up in a house where men didn't cry, or complain, they did what they had to do when it had to be done, no matter what. I can remember being a little kid, and any time I did cry, my father would growl, "You better stop that meeping crying, before I give you something to cry about.- He never had to say it twice, he wasn't like one of these 'New Age- parents, who threaten and threaten and never deliver. meep, half the time he didn't even threaten, his justice was swift, painful, and memorable, so getting a threat was kind of his way of being nice. Knowing I lacked the emotions a normal person should have, I was always careful to never have kids of my own. Just because I'm not emotional doesn't mean I'm an meep, a kid doesn't deserve to be raised that way.
My favorite monkey.
so, it's been a while, hasn't it?
Latest batch of shots I've taken. Brief description included.
took a trip back to the clay pit in better weather than last time, hiked along to an abandoned farm, then climbed a big cone/pyramid shaped waste mound, found a hidden lake. a good day out was had.
Erica Jean was born last night at 8:18pm
Sam had only been at his desk for thirty minutes that day when he began to feel that uncomfortable thunder in his bowel. His eyes focused a good ten feet beyond his monitor as he quickly evaluated the commotion from within. "I'll be alright," he thought. "I'll just throw out the rest of my coffee and grab some water instead." He slowly stood up from his chair, his head rising over the cubicle wall like a brown, hairy sunrise. Phones rang, people murmured, paper shuffled, and so did Sam. He shuffled almost the entire distance across the office floor to the water cooler. Almost. Six feet shy and a shot rang out that only Sam heard, but it was enough to make his eyes widen and mouth turn dry. There were several twists and turns between Sam and the bathroom, but in that moment the world warped and contorted clearing a straight path just for him. Before he knew it he was in the men's restroom facing a stall door. He creaked it open with his fingertips and, in a swift motion that defied the common understanding of space and time, closed the door while lowering his pants. His pasty cheeks docked firmly with the seat, and with a quick clearing of his throat he was ready for launch.
As the title suggests, this is more of my arts. Personally I'm feeling more confident in what I'm outputting, which is somewhat odd as equipment wise I started (digitaly) with an entry level dslr, was ok, bought a professional grade dslr for a couple of grand, got a bit better, sold it and went backwards to an even older entry level dslr than the first one, got better, and now I'm using what is essentially a glorified point and shoot but feel like the stuff I've done is what I'm most comfortable with. The gear does not make the man it appears.
Today is the first day of 2012 and despite whatever the idiots who take the Mayans seriously say, it's going to be an okay year. (Seriously folks, things'll work out.)
Went on a quick trip to Beverly Hills for some Cheesecake Factory dining and some good old-fashioned gawking at the posh stores on Santa Monica Blvd.
Today I was hauling meep doing rush jobs for a BOP inspection at work.
Hi , sick as meep here, which rarely happens with me, and when it does, mama makes me this concoction of chopped whole lemons boiled in sugar, honey and filtered water. It is bittersweet heaven. I finished that earlier, and she will wake in an hour and insist I have another batch.
Fine. I'll make a fire sword.
This is the guts of my propane pipe burner that's going into the Buffalo.
I don't know where my fascination with fire explosions came from. Very early in my memory, I can still vividly picture Christmas after the presents were all unwrapped, and we lay on the floor with our loot, bloated with fine foods. The brightly colored foils, bows, and papers piled high around us, we hoarded our toys in front of us, making sure that we could absorb every detail, every pleasure we could from the longed for trinkets at last in our grasp. My Dad would start to gather up all the wrapping paper, and, after pulling the fireplace screen open and spreading out the embers flat, would start to feed the debris into the front. The papers would flare with terrifying intensity, the odd metallic dyes and inks making the flames blue green. Hissing, pulsing clouds of colored smoke plumed out of wrinkles and folds, until, with a pop and a flash, the smoke itself would ignite and the flames rush back into the labyrinth of crumpled papers, illuminating them like an xray. As the last was tossed in, the blackened leaves of ash would glow red on the edges as they slowly lost weight and drifted up the chimney like escaping Yuletide fairies. Maybe the combination of Family Holiday Gratification and the wonder of the unusual (colored flames, so much reduced so quickly to nothing, and of coarse, the sudden heat during the dead of icy winter) imbedded itself. I just knew that fire, although usually utilitarian for heat and camping, could be modified into something else, something magical, if the conditions were right.
took a week off work to go on a fishing trip, took my camera with me. A few shots are from when we hopped a ferry over to France for a day trip.
I spewed this shizz....guess I needed to.
So. Here we have it. The end of the line.
People who hate will hate regardless of your feelings.
So it's my first day back from vacation and turns out one of my co-workers died from a blood clot.
Got this in the mail today:
Gauging interest - who'd like to get together? Propose dates and places.
Montana De Oro camping pics from all the lucky f#ckers that attended.
Been 20 odd years now that my central nervous system still wakes me up to either mess crank or stand the 0345-0630ish watch topside on the Boatswain's Mate of the Watch roster, running the topside lookout rotation.
I love dogs, most everyone loves dogs. Now. what I don't get is how some people treat these animals in horrible ways and see nothing wrong with it. Needless to say, I've seen some pretty sick meep, but I got wind of one fellow who is probably the most sick, disgusting individual I have ever seen and the trail starts at a nice little taboo corner of the internet called gaybeast, which is basically a youtube where the tube means a dog's or a horse's or a pig's or a goat's meep. While most of the stuff seems to be harmless, there was one in particular who I found alittle unsettling.
Because me an my dad are arguing about it. I keep saying that if you have a good, reliable car, you save $2500 every 5 years. He is saying it's not an investment because you're not getting money back on it.
I've been wanting the join the navy now for about a year and a half, i started to lose the weight i needed to be rid of until the woman i so foolishly let control me because i loved her, told me to stop if i wanted to marry her.
Let me get the crotch rocket section of this piece out of the way. Dudes on rice rockets, I know they hate me for being old and gray and fat. Their looks of disgust amuse me as they watch me cut off my motor and ride up onto the sidewalk, pedaling, hit the crossing signal,and ride the crosswalk only to fire up and blast off at 35 mph.
Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess.
I was recently asked to draw some video game porn, using silent hill characters, easy, resident evil characters, also easy, and halo characters, not as easy.
I made some art, please enjoy and have happy fun time. I've tried a slightly different approach to my previous work, trying to mimic what some would call a hipster aesthetic by use of composition, colour and subject.