soft core what?

I think a good way to make a few bucks would be to host a soft core porn website where the only videos posted are of broads trying to put fitted sheets on their beds. It harkens back to the days of.................well, who am I kidding, the days of Olympic gymnastics never leave a dudes interests. Do they? All of those hours of coverage in the 80's and all of those homes and apartments teeming with ladies struggling for clean sleeping quarters.

Let that sink in for a few. 

You agree with me, don't you.

Nod your head with me.


Of course, I came up with this idea while making my bed this evening. I'm pretty sick of getting up when it's still dark to go to work for someone else and the feeling has been shrouding me in its ghostly crosshatches of linen for weeks. So much so that I can't see through it any longer. My vision, for the moment, is marred by the blanket of wanting to set my own hours and answer to no one but myself.  I can hardly imagine a life that is office drama free.  A little slice of somewhere else that's just out of reach.

overworked and static

Right after Christmas I got sick.  Sinuses. Then I got sick again. Then I started working too many hours on too many things and thus, crickets can be heard here.

Poor, poor blog. 


All I can think about is going to the beach. Point Pleasant, NJ to be exact. I've been frequenting that spot over the last 4 years and it began as one day trip with the beau on a very chilly March day, in search of specimens. It seems eons ago that we first met and thus began our ritual of beachgoing, although one year our plans were thwarted by an evil hurricane. 


My mind is filled with projects and trips that I can't yet put into action. You see, I have a list.  Prioritizing is one tool I learned early on to keep my excited mind from losing track of everything. Notebooks are a necessity, although I pity the poor soul who has to go through it all after I've passed from old age.



First thing is first.  The truck needs an oil change.  So mundane..........pfffftttt!


I'd rather be painting.

the other side

I also post on Tumblr. I have to figure out how to merge these two lovelies (aka blogs).

http://themarcellaeffect.tumblr.com/post/73616230062/another-side-effect-of-this-girls-dont-buy-cartoon


This little bit really strikes chords inside of me. This recent blog entry I'm directing you to is entitled "Another Side Effect of This "Girls don't buy Cartoon Toys" Nonsense" written by gailsimone is enlightening and disheartening. I was never one for Barbie dolls. My Barbie's got mohawks and broken limbs, had stitches (needle and thread), and were otherwise maimed or forced to be lesbians because my mother wouldn't buy me a Ken doll. I was more into playing with my little brothers toys, namely the He-Man collection and wrestling figures.

I own a lot of toys. I watch a lot of cartoons.  I play a shit ton of video games. I read comics. My favorite cartoon right now is Adventure Time, created by Pendleton Ward. Adventure Time

We all like what we like and it doesn't matter who we are.


And now, on to stuffing my face full of the ginormous salad I got for lunch.


Update:
I just went online and found out that Adventure Time footed pajamas are 1/2 off!  Good thing I'm going shopping after work............hellooooo Jake jammies!
 Jake pajamas

absenteeism

So, between being ill and the holiday season, I took quite a hiatus.

When I don't feel all too swift, I like to write. Usually that turns into finding new ways to write my name. I love calligraphy of all sorts. To me, it's like a bit a therapy. 

As you can see below, this letter Z is going to be the death of me. I'm not too keen on how it looks.  Granted, I'm at my day job and have limited supplies since I dumped my bag and chose a new one to use, leaving out my pen case so I had to resort to pencil, pink paper, and a purple highlighter. At least I recycled a sheet of paper.

I wish I had something other than Microsoft Paint on this computer.  UGH.


Another thing, I seem to spend way more time designing things for others and neglecting my own things, like my website.  The gods frown upon me for that. It's a mess.

I'm saving up for one of these suckers though, which will replace me trying to digitally draw and paint on my iPad:

Oh baby. I have two small versions of Wacom tablets but they just don't cut it. This. I need this. :)





No bath

Someone does NOT want a bath. 

I don't get it. She is a large, large dog with a menacing bark and yet she is scared to death about being clean. You guys, she seriously needs a bath. She smells like old man cellar and outside. Of course, I just HAD to adopt a white model canine so she's dirtier than the average bear. She also sheds like a fiend. Short hair = hair everywhere. 

She's an American Bulldog and she is the smartest and sweetest dog ever. She's also really protective. I'm not sure what happened to her in the short 4 months she had without me, but she does not like men she does not know. Girls? No problem. Boys? You are going to get growled at and averted at all costs. 

Honestly, I haven't loved a dog this much  since my pug, Shelby, aka Noonie aka Shel Bo Baggins passed away. 

She's pretty rad. Even though she stinks. 

Look at that face. 

When she gets warm, her skin turns pink. 

Ps. I didn't spell check this as I'm going against my rule and posting from my iPhone and while imbibing on spirits. If it's one thing I've learned, stay away from the internet when you've been drinking. 

Muahahaha I'll probably post again tonight. 

Pumpkin lovelies

     I love Halloween. What I love almost as much is that when people think about Halloween or needing an artistic hand in Halloween land, their thoughts zip line straight to me.  Enter my day job. People know what I'm all about so it didn't surprise me in the least when a vote was had and I was chosen the representative pumpkin carver/decorator for our branch of employees in a pumpkin carving contest. After all the shutdown madness involving government workers, this is an attempt to remove some stress. It may not work for many but it works for me. 

Alas, I give you Helga and her two ungrateful children, Boris and Benny. 

No answers, only questions, and it's ok

     Stepping over the pieces of glass strew across the floor, I encounter Sir Filament. He is blackened and blown out, thin antennae dangling at his sides. In an instant I can imagine his last moments, the heat cumulating slowly inside of him to unnatural levels until containment was no longer an option. A spontaneous combustion of sorts then occurs, throwing him into a beautiful bouquet of spark and ash along with his exoskeleton, which is what I am now treading slowy around in hopscotch style stepping to avoid laceration. Even in death, he can cause pain and loss.

     As so can ghosts, which will be my next installation, since it seems I need a break from web designing for a spell or two due to an undeniable urge to spend more time holding hands with introspection.