holy motherfucking explodofuck i'm sorry... did i say i had nintey two cardiovascular animations to do? let me correct myself; one hundred. and fifty. superflying. explosivo. motherfucking. pandarobot. animations.
okay, okay... so i know i've been pretty lame this past week or so at doing any posting at all, but i am one busy motherfucker. for a start, i've just taken on a bunch of medical animation stuff again. not one animation... not two animations, but - count em - ninety two deluxofuck animations. and yes, the word 'deluxofuck' is a recent invention of mine. i had to pick up a folder with the work details in it, and i assumed it was assorted notes, and some notes about the animations. here it is:
and hey! guess what i discovered? there's an animation for me to do on every. fucking. page.
jon and i have also been busy planning exactly how we're going to run our server, designing the gaijin hosting site, and deciding how much we're going to ride those sucker's credit cards. yen also gave us a fantastic tagline: hosting on the INTERNET. if you're looking for hosting in the meantime, this guy will host it.
i am a FURRIEE and WOMYN i hate to be the one whoring somethingawful links, but this chick is out of her mind:
i love Squirrels
i AM a Squirrel
i'm a WOMYN to
and i'm GAY
well, bi
but GAY
see? and exactly how does a human woman have lesbian sex with a squirrel? it has to be a joke... right?
i'd really like to think that the email i received yesterday was a joke too, but thjis guy takes himself, and the subject matter, far too seriously:
not meaning to be rude and nicely made web page! however I have a few er...problems with the jedi quiz, i can see how it is funny and might well make people laugh but you seem to have not realised that the jedi religion is a real religion (please dont laugh this is not a joke). the quiz contains questions that are good questions but the answers are of a slightly less quality:a) they only show 1 answer that would be the logical "you ranked top jedi" answer.b) the other answers are somewhat silly in a slightly 'un-jedi' related way.
please understand this is not critisism as such but more of a pointer. maybe you should try to incorporate some jedi facts and make 2 or 3 answers that are more jedi related(i understand that obviosly you need to keep the funny aspect:-) thankyou for reading this. BEN
notice i didn't publish an email address this time; he obviously believes what he's saying, but should perhaps take some time to lay off the pro-plus and watch some national lampoon.
it was like the whole sky lit up may i just take a moment to say thank god for google's news search which can be found here. without it, how would i have ever found out about the story of the ufo that turned out to be a cat. fucking brilliant.
under a killing moon this is a story all about how my life got twisted turned upside down and i'd like to take a minute just site right there, i'll tell you how i became the prince of a town called getting fucked over.
so last night me and my band had a gig at this place called the shed. we booked it, so we got to say who was playing (although i left that up to the manager of the place), and what time we were going on stage. we get there, start setting up, and one of the bands decided to try and fuck with the running order, but i told them that it was already booked and set. the soundcheck seemed to take forever, although we were set up, soundchecked and off again in about ten minutes. then the first band soundcheck, and pretty much just go straight into their set. and on stage they remained for the next forty five minutes. each of their songs apparently lasted a decade, and they were fucking dire. and i don't mean like the way the white stripes are crap on record, i mean they were tone-deaf, unable-to-tune-guitars, rhythmically-challenged, inbred muppetards from the planet wannabe-emo.
the very second they finished, we're on stage, setting up and ready to go in five minutes. we launch straight into our set, and you know what? we were pretty fucking good. and i can say this with absolute impartiality, just as i can say the last time we played, it was suckfest 2003. them as we're really getting down to it, the sound engineer tells us we can only do one more. the bass player went a bit mental, and we were all pissed off, but we played through the last song and got our shit off stage. we were up there for a total of twenty minutes.
i actually knew the band that were going on after us, and not only are they really fucking good, they're a lovely bunch of lads too. this did not stop me from getting pissed that the sound engineer let them play for a total of fifty. fucking. minutes.
on a complete tangent, let me tell you about the dream i had that woke me up, and would guarantee to wake just about anyone up. i'm sitting in a room with a gruop of people, a group i recognise, but not as individuals; as a collective. next to me, a pregnant woman in a shimmery pink unitard offers someone a cigarette. intially he takes it, then give it back because it has a filter. i take one, light up, and take a drag. as i'm lowering my cigarette, i notice the hot coals at the tip drop off, and although i don't see it, i know that they land in my crotch... and then there's a whumph! sound as i hear the crotch of my jeans becomes an inferno. ding! i'm awake! is it fucking surprising that i'm straightedge?
well, that was brief big changes being made all over the place these days; jon @ phrenzy and me are now on the same server, our server, and yen is soon to join us (i would link him, but i don't exactly know where the fuck he is right now). and since we're on the same server, it means i can do l33t h4x0ring things to jon; for example, using my amazing flash coding skills, i have created this little utility which will always echo the admin password to phrenzy.org, no matter how many times jon changes it:
tee hee hee. i also emailed john peel at radio one with this song (right-click if you want to save it) by this band, because i thought he'd love it. and dig this, if you can... he replied to me. here's his email:
"thanks lawrie. i listened to the mp3 and i have to agree that it is a most excellent track. one might describe it as slippery, and certainly sublime. i am very glad that you emailed me, because it also gave me a chance to look at your website,and i must say that it had me and the studio team in stitches, although none of us are very good at our french and couldn't work out what the title was (something about not having an infection? glad to hear it). we must get on with rifling through our playlist, but thanks for sending the details of the deerhoof's track through; i'll most definitely be ordering their latest lp. and i'm sure i'll be browsing your site again very soon. john. p.s. you're very handsome, if i might say."
(please note: everything after "thanks lawrie" may have been a complete lie)
previously, on clerks... why are we walking like this? ha ha ha. so, here's what's happened: i bumped into a guy i used to go to school with, and he works for one of jon and mine's main competitors; he told me the company was going to hell in a handbasket. tee hee. they're still getting fucking great clients though. bastards.
i went back to my place thisd afternoon to get some work done, and only seconds after i finished microwaving some hot cross buns, the power went out. all of it. and i lost a load of work. angry. so i turned off the ring main that powers everything in the house except my computer, just so i could have my computer on and redo my work. then my mom comes downstairs half an hour later with wet hair and asks why the power isn't on; i go and demonstrate what happens when you turn on the ring main, and i had forgotten to turn off my computer, so i lose all my work. again. and then i found out my eldest sister is pregnant. and then i get to emily's house, and she's got her hair tied back away from her face, and she almost never does that, and she looks beautiful.
and then i had to watch a video of someone's left lung being removed from their body and an artificial plastic one being put in. that was not beautiful.
and then i woke up and it was all a dream. fucking hell, can you tell i just want to go to bed?
welcome to pleasantville i live in a sleepy little village (although the council has deemed to relabel it as a town, and put a giant piece of 'modern sculpture' in the middle of a flowerbed) called oadby. at twenty four years old, i am younger than most of the residents of my suburb by at least forty years; we have more than our fair share of charity shops run by the aging population (including my grandma), and a higher-than-average number of benches for these golden greats to sit down and rest on their way to fetch a newspaper.
let me set a scene for you; it's a sunny spring afternoon and i'm strolling along the idyllically quiet chestnut avenue (it's really called that), past immaculately maintained gardens, pruned by old men in beige and plaid and sunhats, towards my local bank. i walk in, fill out a slip, then get in line. there's only one window open, but clerks are behind each pulled-down shade, frantically typing away at their terminals. i'm waiting behind mr. methusala as he does his best to confuse the girl serving him when a guy walks in behind me, breathing heavily. a couple of times he makes as if to go towards one of the closed windows, making a point of looking around in an exaggerated manner, and huffing impatiently.
i'd put him at at well over twice my age, which makes his irritable impatience all the more alarming; i can see the veins in his temples steadily pulsing faster and his face getting redder. take a pill, man - we're in oadby.finally, after only ninety seconds of waiting, he bangs his fists down on the counter and shoutrs "can't somebody else please help, for christ's sake!" and one of the tellers at the end of the row jumps, quickly yanks her shade up and her voice wavers with a trembly "can i help?". of course, the problem is, i'm the next one in line, and nobody else saw this crazy old man throw a strop, so as i walk towards the window, the teller starts apologising profusely. i would like to be able to say "i'm very sorry, but it wasn't me; i'm really quite nice and relaxed. it was that crazy old guy behind me, who now appears to be remarkably placid." and then point an accusing finger at him, but of course there are no circumstances in which this would have been a socially acceptable thing to do, especially in a bank the size of a closet, in a village the size of a bedroom.
three thousand dollars for a toilet seat? apparently they have just dedicated an hour of live television to a combination of u.s. marines and iraqi people pulling down a statue of saddam in the centre of bagdhad. an hour. they kept trying to throw ropes around it and pull it down using army vehicles, but had great difficulty in getting it done.
now, i understand the symbolism of this gesture, and how much the american people (and, to some extent the british) needed to see it, but has anyone stopped to think; this is what you're paying your tax dollars for? i mean, it probably cost you half a million dollars for your highly trained marine troops to pull that statue down. couldn't they have saved your money and let the iraqi people pull it down themselves? maybe spend their time delivering some more much-needed aid, or 'securing' the area from dissidents? and who cares anyway? once the american interests have been secured, off go the troops to 'free' another country that may be harboring terrorists.
here's the thing though; considering the american government paid for and trained osama bin laden and al qaeda troops in the eighties, should they start by invading themselves?
custom edible friday fives i did start friday whyday a few months back, but just couldn't maintain the high levels of anger and hatred it took to continually find fault with every living creature, system, service and convenience on this planet. however, i have yet to actually go to fridayfive.org and participate in their made-for-tv-mom-i'm-okay-you're-fucking-well-okay fragmentation of my life into bite-size chunks. so, i came up with five reasons why i hate john grisham:
1: all the films based on his novels are not only better than the original source material, but they are invariably cleverer and have better plotlines.
2: all of his characters are perfect; stunningly beautiful, graduating first of their class at harvard or yale, and oh! they all just happened to have inherited quarter of a billion dollars from their parents who died young, but they still retain their humble sensibilities.
3: this happy set of circumstances comes in very handy when they need to run away, which is the plot to every john grisham book: said perfect lawyer gets involved in seemingly ordinary case; turns out to have massive conspiracy tied to it; lawyer runs away; the end.
4: in the author photo in his books, he looks like a smarmy asshole who will turn around at any second and tell you to get off his golf course.
5: he gives his books the crappest names you could ever imagine. the pelican brief? "...it was not long before she discovered a massive conspiracy the government were prepared to keep covered at all costs... the puffin file." and all that other pseudo-ominous shit like 'the firm'. and his latest one: 'king of torts'? fuck off.
and just to prove that everything i've just said is true, here's an extract from the new book's blurb: "as he digs into the background of his client, clay stumbles upon a conspiracy too horrible to believe. he suddenly finds himself in the middle of a complex case against one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in the world, looking at the kind of enormous settlement that would totally change his life – that would make him, almost overnight, the legal profession’s newest king of torts…"
fucking dot dot dot... ominous. but not as ominous as if the book had been called the tort. or even the tortoise. yeah, i like mine better.
anyone else? go on, pick a celebrity (although i will not accept britney and her superfamous pals - they're too obvious to hate) and write your friday hate five. it feels good.
where everybody knows your name for some reason, this video didn't win an oscar. not surprising when you think about it, since the academy doesn't give bafta awards for music videos, but it would have easily beaten that japanese crap that won best animated feature.
i intend to start work on a little animated feature myself, actually; inspired by one tiny little byline in my sxe page, which is provisionally titled cigarette train: choo-choo your way to death! i know have been slack at updating, but jon and i have been working very hard to get a shitload of work done, and trying with all our might to get our hands on our very own server. hosting anyone? (please note: said hosting will not be free. ever. at all.)
and since i just mentioned him, props (i'm so down with the kids) to jon for his spangly new layout. i would really like to write more, but my head is killing me and i can't think straight. you know what would help? a sixty inch television.
