So I'm watching the official music video for the 1991 Van Halen song "Right Now", feeling very nostalgic.
Unexpectedly, there's a knock on the door. I had totally forgotten about the pizza I ordered about 40min ago.

My dog Elly (a little rescue mutt weighing in at 30lbs or so) had been sleeping under my desk. She jumps up and barks loudly in her "big girl voice". I've been trying to get her to not do that, so I call her name sternly as I stand up to answer the door.
She's hopping and spinning in place just inside the door, excited and all spazztastic to smell whoever is at the door. She's very friendly, but can be a bit too forward, so I've been trying to focus her on sitting and waiting.
As I get to the door, I point to the hall and call out "Zuruck! Sitzen!" in what I'm sure sounds like the most terribly American-accented German. She obeys, but the moment I open the door, she comes running back up, so I point again and shout "SITZEN!", and she sits.

The pizza guy is maybe 16-17 and is standing there, white-faced. He stutters as he hands me the pizza and the check. He can't see Elly from around the corner, but he can probably hear her whines and rumbles of protest at having to sit while some new person is at the door, ripe for sniffing and licking.
The moment I sign the check and hand it back, the kid turns and hustles down the stairs as if at any moment I'm going to sic a wild hound on him. He was in such a hurry, he didn't even bothering to take his pen back.

I close the door, and go back to my desk in time to see the end of the music video, Elly laying her head on my knee and waiting for me to feed her the crusts.

I've had this conversation with some of my coworkers lately, and maybe it's just my own brand of introspection, or my tendancy to underestimate myself, but I'm really starting to feel old.

I know that I'm not really that old. If average age is still to be believed (and barring an early demise), I have the larger part of my life still ahead of me.
Nevertheless, I can feel that my youth is pretty much over.

I matured early, and despite some "class clown" behavior in elementary school (my response to being lonely and bullied), I got alone better with adults than with other kids. I can still remember my mother telling me how proud she was that some of my report cards said "very mature" on them.

Maybe that's part of the reason I seem to be aging before my time now. I'm turning into an old man before I should even be at middle age.

My patience certainly isn't what it use to be, and I find myself wanting to comment on things I disagree with (whether it's my business or not). That also could be due to the higher stress from my neew job position. I realized this before, but now I'm really living it - it's actually better in some ways to not care about your job. Because if you care, you stress about getting it right and not disappointing those who have put trust in you.

And with getting older comes adult problems like having to pay money for taxes rather than get a return, dealing with tickets at the court and worrying about getting health insurace. Having to dress up because I need to look professional. I only had three dress shirts before, now it's all I can wear while at work. What about all my t-shirts?

More than any other sign or event however is just my own internal feeling. I feel old.
Someone told me when I was younger that I was an "old soul". Now I can beleive it.

No details as of yet, but according to The Huffington Post, the Blues legend, B.B. King has died in Las Vegas at the age of 89.

I don't want to believe it, but...everyone, even legends, go.

If he is, I bet he's having a hell of a jam session up there in the great beyond right about now.

UPDATE: It's been corroborated via multiple sources, including his official website. The King has left this mortal coil.

I'm going to be a wreck tomorrow.

EDIT: It was raining in the desert today (true story), and all I could think of was "The Sky is Crying". https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UiBOJT38Cvg

I miss the 1990s.

I did already, but after watching some clips from the MTV show "Daria", and listening to some of that era's punk and alternative music (as well as reviewing my collection of 90s Jurassic Park toys), it brought the nostalgia on in full force.

I've always been sensitive to nostalgia, which is no doubt part of the reason I keep around so many mementos of my life, and watching some old shows and listening to some old music brought on the nostalgia-train hard.

Back when MTV was "Music Television". Shows like "Daria", "Ren & Stimpy", SatAM Sonic. Games like POGs were cool, even moreso after schools started banning them. I still have all my disks and slammers.

SURGE! Man I loved that stuff... And yes, my long lost darling, Crystal Pepsi.

Unbuttoned button-up overshirts and jean jackets were cool (I still think they look cool).

And everyone knew that one kid with the rich parents who bought him an N64 and didn't mind if you came over to play Goldeneye for a while.

Nickelodeon was freaking NICKELODEON! "Rocko's Modern Life", "Pete & Pete", "Salute your Shorts", "All That", "Are You Afraid of the Dark" and...yes, even "Clarissa Explains it All" (a guilty pleasure of mine). They had "Legends of the Hidden Temple", which I would have killed another kid to have been on.

I'm pretty sure shows like "Tiny Toons" and "Animaniacs" inspired a whole generation of modern Furries.

It was a good time to not have any responsibilities so we could enjoy the commercialization and entertainments of the decade.

...

...oh, and I bought a 24 case of Surge online. Good times.

With the Patreon issue still large in people's minds, and a resurgence of artists lashing out at fans (and fans returning the frustration to the creators they formerly enjoyed) I've been reflecting on how the relationship between artist and fan oftentimes works.

My favorite band of all time is the late 60's power-trio, "Cream". Going along with them is their spiritual successor, "Blind Faith". The latter is considered one of, if not the anthemic band of the 1960s - showcasing the spirit and failure of the hippie decade.

In the late 1960s, the powerhouse trio "Cream" officially dissolved. The group was arguably one of the biggest bands of the decade, selling millions of albums and filling concert halls on both sides of the Atlantic. But while the financial and musical talent of all three members was never in doubt, the genuine dislike between two of the key members, Ginger Baker and Jack Bruce, meant that every show risked a meltdown. That left Eric Clapton in the middle, struggling to keep his bandmates from fist-fighting on stage.
At the same time, Clapton had worries of his own. His massive fame left him hounded at all turns - from fans hanging on every note he played, to record labels pushing for "more of the same" to keep up sales.

Sadly, Cream broke up in 1968 after releasing four albums. The stress of mediating the warring personalities of Bruce and Baker, as well as his own feelings of creative suppression left Clapton seeking an outlet for his creative expression that didn't leave him chaffing fan's exceptions or record label demands.
His next venture, "Blind Faith" met a similar fate. Steve Winwood, who had just broke from his own group, "Traffic", began looking for musicians to help him in a new project. Winwood and Clapton both had similar goals - playing with some of the best people in the field while experimenting with musical styles and increasing their musicianship outside of the spotlight.
But when Ginger Baker was brought in as drummer, the specter of Cream returned. With it came a rush of expectation from fans and labels.
Before a note was even put on paper, designs were being made for a multi-national tour. Headlines proclaimed that the next "Clapton Power Trio" were coming, and fans and critics alike salivated in anticipation.

This of course put Clapton in quite a bind. He wanted a place to explore his musical talents outside the limelight, without all the baggage.
Unfortunately, his fears were proved true, for although their self-titled first album, "Blind Faith", was massively popular and technically brilliant (as well as being financially successful), it left Clapton once again feeling unfulfilled.
Their were riots at some of their American shows as overhyped fans attempted to rush the stage. Calls were made about a U.K. tour before the American one was even fully underway. Yet it was obvious that Clapton seemed uncomfortable and tried to shift focus away from himself and onto Steve Winwood.

By 1969, barely a year after the breakup of Cream, Blind Faith had also split.

But in a further twist, during the American tour, Clapton was enamored by their opening act, a country-blues group called "Delaney & Bonnie". Their playful, yet soulful sound was just what Clapton had been looking for, and during the tour, he spent more time with Delaney Bramlett than with any of the members of Blind Faith.

Clapton eventually played extensively with the members of Delaney & Bonnie, as well as other experimental groups like "The Plastic Ono Band" before eventually forming his own blues-rock band "Derek & the Dominoes".

Clapton is still regarded as one of the most influential guitarists of all time, and even Jimi Hendrix looked up to Clapton with awe and respect. Yet all Clapton really wanted to do was play music.
Although I myself tend to wrinkle my nose at his singer-songwriter projects of the 1980s and 90s, they are in essence, more pure than the music of the 1960s to which I am deeply attached.
Songs such as "Tears in Heaven" and "My Father's Eyes" are deeply personal to Clapton and regardless of my feelings, he holds them higher than anything he did for Cream or Blind Faith.

I often times get annoyed by artists who have a sudden change of style, or move away from doing one kind of art to another which doesn't interest me. But artists are not machines. Even if you offer to pay them, sometimes no money in the world can equal the ennui that comes when an artist desires challenge or change, and fan pressure only makes the decision harder.
So while I still get annoyed, my better judgment knows that it's not my decision to make. Art is as much (or more) of an experience for the artist as it is for fans. It's an expression of themselves, and we owe it to them to be tolerant of change.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6FYAW_6kAEw

First Steam Workshop starts charging for mods, now this?

>shakes his fist at advertisers and distributors<

Damn you! Damn you all to hell!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7JW133F0AK4&feature=player_detailpage#t=156

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CsbYx6hevoQ

Patreon has been a controversial issue for a while, and though I am generally satisfied to live and let live, I do have an opinion on the service and particularly how many artists choose to use it.

In this case, I saw a submission from an artist (who I won't name for the sake of courtesy) that asked his audience to contribute to his Patreon so that he didn't have to include "stupid" censorship on his pictures.
It took me a moment to convince myself it would be rude to point out on the submission that the censorship was optional. Nothing about Patreon is forcing anyone to upload incomplete or altered artwork - that is purely at the discretion of the artist themselves. Patreon is suppose to be a "tip-jar", not a private paysite.

This gross misuse of Patreon by a segment of the artists in this fandom is quickly reaching (if indeed it hasn't already reached) the tipping point.
What was initially intended as a way for fans to donate to artist they enjoy is being used as a paywall scheme where anyone with even a modicum of talent thinks they can force a living by ransoming their fans.

I do support the idea of artists being allowed to make something tangible for the efforts we put into our work, but the Patreon bubble is bursting. It's the equivalent of the dot-com boom of the 1990s. Everyone wants an easy road to lots of "free" cash, and Patreon promises that. But attitudes have shifted and fans are closing up their pocketbooks and turning their backs on artists who chose to hold their artwork hostage.

The good side of this irrational exuberance is that some artists will get it right. As with every rush, there will be those who spectacularly fail and those who spectacularly succeed. Those in the middle will learn from both and create stable systems that are acceptable for both the creators and the fans that want to support them. That's the silver lining.

At the moment though, we have to put up with the awkward and oftentimes terribly frustrating interim where fans are treated as a commodity rather than a partner.

There is something to be said about taking a nonrushed walk through a small neighborhood. Small antique shops, old buildings, parks with old benches.

Right now I'm sitting on an old bench in the alley between a coffee shop and a German restaurant/bier hall.
I love the look of the old brick. The trees between the benches rustle, occasionally dropping a leaf. It's warm in the sun, but here it's slightly cool. Perfect for a long sleeve dress shirt. I'm sure later it'll only get hotter, but for now it's quite pleasent.

There's a 1950s style ice cream shop that's tempting me, even this early in the morning, and I'll be going by those antique shops too once they open. It's just a good day to be outside.
Later, I have some official things to do (darn adult stuff), but for now it's nice just to be out on a nice day.

No, not real ones. But they do look pretty good, if I say so myself (and I do).

With this journal, I'd like to more or less gauge potential interest in the possibility of my selling some joke diplomas and certificates of achievement.
Considering how much of my artistic energy goes into Photoshop work, it's only logical that I try and use some of that towards items that can be enjoyed by my watchers.

What I would be offering is a customizable diploma or certificate of achievement from the fictional "Cumbridge University" that the client can have hung up in the home, or presented to a friend.
They would be customized by the commissioner as to the nature of the degree or achievement, and what date it is to be issued. Other customizable options include the signers, the name of the institution, and design of the gold seal.

Price would be approx $5USD for a high resolution file. I may also offer physical copies printed out and mailed, but that can be negotiated on a case-by-case basis.

Examples include:

"For Superior Excellence in being a Friend"
"For Outstanding Service in Commissioning"
"For Outstanding Achievement in being a Faggot"
"In Recognition of Achievements in Fursuit Manufacturing"
...and anything else the commissioner decides is worthy of award.

Degrees include:

"Faggotry"
"Douchbaggery"
"Artistry"
"Bitch"
"Social Justice Warrior"
"Dragon"
"Commissioning"
"Friendship"
"Otherkin"
...and anything else the commissioner decides is worthy of an honorary degree.

If this is something that folks would be interested in, please say so in the comments. I will be posting some examples in my gallery shortly.

I saw a comment on another board from a group of people who were claiming that a person "can't be a Furry unless you were a suit" [sic].

Personally I disagree with this strongly. I respect suiting as a performance art and as a costuming challenge, but being Furry is not about wearing a Fursuit.

I've been in this fandom for longer than some of these people have been alive, and there are others that have been in it even longer than I have, and we've never worn a Fursuit before and don't plan on starting anytime soon.

I know that being a Furry doesn't include a rule sheet or an entrance exam, but let's not start creating conditions by which we judge the level of someone's "Furryness" by what kind of costume they wear. What are we, Anime con-goers?

In all the years I've been filing my own taxes, this is the closest to the deadline I have ever cut it. For those living in the United States, the months of January till mid April are the nightmare time when working Americans are required to undergo a gauntlet of paperwork and personal scrutiny to determine how much money they either get back, or have to pay to the Federal government for the services (and hardships) it provides to the nation.

Generally, I have my taxes done in February, since I don't like to procrastinate on such things, and in all other years but this one, I've gotten quite a nice windfall from my tax return. Due to how I file (and my status as a single working-class guy), I usually get quite a bit back from Uncle Sam. This is due to my having more taxes taken directly out of my paycheck each pay period, which results in a larger return when my gross income is calculated later.
I personally find it to be better this way, since I learn to live on the smaller regular check, and get a nice large nest egg by March (usually used to upgrade my computer).
But this year was different. This is the first year I've ever had to PAY on my tax return. I know it's a first world type of problem, but when I am basically paying the equivalent of an entire additional RENT CHECK to the IRS, it results in more than just a few alterations to my daily budget.

I used two separate tax services, both giving me the same information (with only a slight variation in the resulting numbers). I'm not a tax expert, so using what I do know, it seems as though the increase in my gross income is to blame for the sudden squeeze. Personal success coming at a price.
Whereas before, I was a struggling kid trying to make it on my own, apparently I've become part of the rich, white, patriarchy and need to pay my share to "keep 'em down".

Again, I know this is a first-world problem sort of thing, and there are those who would give a great deal to have the things that I have, but it still stings when I have to pay a company just to allow them to tell the IRS that I need to pay them a LOT of money. I'm in no financial danger, but this puts a hell of a dent in my finances, at a point when I really don't need the sudden drop.

Do not try and ink a picture while listening to Game Grumps.

Truth.

http://www.theguardian.com/science/.....e-journey-nasa

When you love something, you don't want to let it go.
That was an era of exploration and adventure that we could really use again.

An interesting article from "The Atlantic" that I rather enjoyed.

http://www.theatlantic.com/technolo.....acters/387556/

Although it doesn't stray into the more bawdy or artless issues that have dominated the debate, GamerGate supporters and detractors alike will find something interesting here - as will anyone else who enjoys video games as an art form rather than just a diversion.

Hello, I'm D.O.P.R., and I am normal.

I am operating precisely the way my chemistry and biology intend for me to operate. I am the result of all the natural and spiritual processes that altogether make up myself as an individual. Moreover, I am mostly satisfied with myself as I am, even though I recognize some areas that I hope eventually to alter for the better (at least according to my limited idea of what is better for me).

Please do not use your words to try and shape me into what you think I should be. I'm quite happy as I am - I am normal. So are you. There may be some things about yourself that you wish to change, but at least you are operating completely normally for who you are as an individual. You are not broken or misshapen, you are normal. Any alterations you feel like making will result in a new normal.

If you feel that you are not yet normal, I encourage you to do what you can to find your normal. Chances are, you are normal already and just need to look past what others are telling you your normal should be and you'll find that you had it all along.

Please do not try and tell me that I am not normal, or that I should feel guilty because my normal is not the same as yours. Not everything that is normal for you will be normal for me, which is fine because diversity is great! But I don't feel that my normal should be forced upon others or marketed, or given up to make someone else happy.
I also do not appreciate being guilt-tripped because you are still searching for your normal. I'm sorry if you are not where you wish to be, but your journey for self-actualization should not be built on the ruins of my self-esteem.

Please remember, labels are the things we use to put a concise explanation to the objects and concepts around us that are too complex to explain in a short amount of time. They are imprecise and clumsy, and most often are devised by others in such a way as to match up with their own limited understanding of the concept in question.
The best way to understand someone, or something, is to talk to them directly and find out - from the source - who they are and who they want to be.
Don't judge books by their covers, and don't presume that you have all the questions to their answers. Every one of us is on our own unique journey of self-fulfillment, and no one has the right to lay out that path except the one who walks it.

What messengers do you guys usually use? I'm not terribly talkative, except in person, but I occasionally feel like chatting with folks.

Mostly I use Skype and Steam, but I also still have a Trillian account which bundles up my ancient AIM and MSN accounts. I'm going to be uninstalling Trillian however, since I never use it, and because on the odd occation when I do, it spams me with notifications relating to some error in my AIM login (even when I turn all notifications off). But I'm not sure what the modern equivalent is other than Twitter or Facebook, neither of which I'm willing to use.

So if there's a good alternative, I'm willing to give it a shot.

It's been a few days since I learned about Leonard Nimoy's passing. It's taken this long for that knowledge to really settle in, and for me to organize my thoughts into such a way that I could attempt a journal. It will ramble some, since I'm a "train of thought" style of writer, but my point gets made (I hope).

When I was a kid, I had a pretty tough time. I know a lot of people complain about how High School was the toughest time for them when growing up, but for me, it was my elementary school days.
I went to a Christian elementary school in a very small town in rural Nebraska, and being a slightly built kid who didn't like sports, loved to read and soaked up anything I could get my hands on about Dinosaurs and Science Fiction, I was a prime target. To say I was unpouplar would be a large understatement. I was the bottom of the totem pole. I cannot stress enough how little I had in the way of friendly support at that time. I would see other unpopular kids get tripped and made fun of, only to have those same teary-eyed victims immediately stomp up to me and push me down because I was "suppose to take it". My unwillingness to fight, or push around others in the same way just seemed to justify my role as the abuse sponge for the other children. I had a really really hard time.
From the time I entered school until I was about 12, I had no friends and only a handful of people who were willing to be seen talking to me (for fear of being bullied themselves about it). I was a naturally solitary kid, and being bullied only increased that. One of the other factors that contributed to all the negative attention is that at that time, I was a whiner with a very short fuze. It didn't take much to get me to start complaining or stomping my little feet in impotent frustration. I still remember a day where I was driven to literal tears by a pair of other kids counting down from ten. I was maybe 2rd grade at the time (3rd at the very outside), and my distress at hearing a countdown wasn't because I had some strange aversion to numbers, but because I knew they were doing it purely to annoy me, and it worked...I was annoyed and frustrated. The more upset I got, the more fun it was for them. The more obvious my frustration, or the closer I got to just outright bawling, the more they loved it. It was after this encounter that I finally made the connection between my reaction and their pleasure. It was also about this time that my parents introduced me to classic Star Trek.

My mother had started watching "The Next Generation", which had started airing just a couple years previously, and my father, who didn't like the "old bald guy", said that the original series was way better.
Being a fan of anything Science Fiction anyway, I ate up Star Trek with a passion. Cool aliens, laser guns, awesome brightly coloured uniforms and sciency-lookiing sets - it was a smorgasbord of radical fun. I latched onto the characters as if they were my very own. When riding my scooter to school, I would talk to myself, imagining I had a tiny Mr. Sulu in my head who I would order to "increase warp speed" whenever I wanted to go faster. When I would wipe out, I would ask myself for a "damage report" while I looked for scratches and bumps.
Every character seemed to have something to teach me. Captain Kirk was brave and would never back down from what he knew was right, even if it meant getting beat up a bit. I wanted to be that brave. Mr Scott was super-smart and loved science and mechanical things. I wanted to be that smart. Lt. Uhura was pretty, but professional. No matter what happened, she would be at her console, trying her best to do the best job she could. I wanted to be that dedicated. Dr McCoy was passionate and outspoken. He wouldn't sit around when bad things were happening to others, he would jump in to try and help and would speak out against anything he felt was morally incorrect. I wanted to be that honorable and upright.

And then there was Mr. Spock. He was so smart. "I" wanted to be smart. He was dedicated to science and learning all he could about the universe, even if that meant going to dangerous places or putting himself at risk. And he was so logical. Unlike me, he didn't let his emotions control him. He didn't get upset whenever McCoy called him a "pointy eared hobgoblin", or some alien mocked his green blood. He didn't flinch when the ship was in peril and he had a job to do. He relied on his logic. He thought through his problems...he didn't fight through them, or cry passed them. I really, really wanted to be like him. And I tried. I tried to be braver - standing up to the bullies and not letting myself be pushed around. I would intervene whenever I saw some other kid being picked on, even though I knew the bullies would likely turn on me instead. When they did, I knew that logic and insulating my emotion would help me deflect their attacks. I could think my way out of problems and not let my emotions rule me.

I didn't have many friends growing up. I eventually gained some once I started going to middle school, but in those early years of public education, surrounded by strange unfriendly aliens and unusual, incomprehensible situations, whenever I would be scared, or feel like I was being tested, I would always pause and ask myself "What would Mr. Spock do here?"

He was my role model. Much of what I am today is because of the character Nimoy brought to life. He will be remembered for many things, but as I write this, I won't begrudge a few tears because, well...it seems the logical thing to do.

Edit: Wow, I started tearing up all over again.
http://i.4cdn.org/m/1425062695246.jpg

Phew. Being an adult sucks!

All those "cherish your childhood" people were right. I miss being 12. Heck, I miss being 20! Growing up is hard...

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2f86R_Z0_xI[/youtube]

When did I wind up back in 1992?

With the continued lack of pictorial updates, I figure that it's only fair if I at least provide a journal every now and again to assure folks that I'm still alive and well.

Work is still the biggest thing I've got going on right now, and it's brought me a level of stability I've not had for a very long time. Oddly enough, the better and more stable the job situation gets, the more I seem to worry about it. It's as if I'm expecting the rug to be pulled out from under me at any moment. I suppose that's a natural response considering how much bad luck and how many missteps I've had in my life, so I try and keep it in check.

Despite not having a terribly active social life, I don't seem to have a problem keeping myself busy. I find that I struggle to find enough hours in the day (or night) to do all the little project with which I surround myself. I have a model that still needs painting (and a bunch more still in storage), a few statues that also need touching up. I need to set up an appointment to get my eyes checked/buy new eyeglasses, get the slide on my 1911 recut so I can swap out to a new set of sights, finish several gigs worth of texture projects I've been working on and organize them into a bundle I can post to Skyrim Nexus - and of course, finish the stacks of sketches and other drawing projects that I've surrounded myself with.
My muse is fitful - and apparently has ADHD in a big way.

I've also been trying to organize some trips to various scenic locals for myself and some of my coworkers/friends. We talk a lot about going to places like Tombstone, AZ, The Apache Death Caves, the Titan Missile Museum and/or Las Vegas, but we never seem to actually do it. I think it mostly just comes down to setting a date and keeping email threads going so that it doesn't get forgotten.

I've been following the updates regarding the new Jurassic Park movie, Jurassic World, and I can comfortably say that I am willing to give the movie a chance, despite all that I've seen and heard thus far.
When I attended ComiCon last year, I spoke with a gentleman who had worked as a designer for the film, and in his words, the movie "isn't worth seeing". He confirmed many of my fears regarding the film being a special-effects smorgasbord with no actual flavour, as well as the revelation of the "Diabolus rex" (now renamed "Indominus rex" ), and that the main character would have a "commando squad" of tame Velociraptors. None of these gave me much hope for the movie being anything more than a shallow "re-imagining" of a classic movie and my spirits sank.
Since then, I've gleaned more information from official and not-so-official sources, and my pessimism has been slightly assuaged, but I'm still leaning towards the negative. The original composition of the I-rex' DNA as including cuttlefish and viper parts has been either retconned or the rumour officially dispelled. Now it's an amalgam of Carnotaurus, Majungasaurus, Rugops and Giganotosaurus - all theropods from the Late Cretaceous, but existing in wildly different areas of the world.
The "Dino commandos" have also been confirmed, so we're likely to see some Dino-on-Dino combat again, but considering how that was handled in JPIII, that doesn't put me at ease. I still question Chris Pratt as a casting choice, but at this stage, I'm just happy that what they've shown of the Dinosaurs themselves thus far look like what they did in the first film. Accurate or not to reality, it at least helps the film's continuity.
Overall, my feelings are 60 to 40 with 60% leaning toward "won't like" and 40% toward "fun for a watch".

In any case, that's where I am at the moment (after some rambling). Still in very good standing, though I could use someone to help me get my ashes hauled.
ComiCon is coming up again, and I plan on wearing my Jurassic Park Security Officer outfit again. It was a hit last year (possibly even getting me into the procure for this year) and I look forward to rocking it again.

I have a great job, and am currently making a very respectable wage. Considering that my car is all paid off, I don't go out much and my general day-to-day needs are fairly low, I have a fair amount of surplus money. Most of it sits in savings, but I am not immune from the hoarding instinct of my kind, and as a Dragon, I enjoy surrounding myself with...things.
I recently completed my collection of vintage Series 1 Jurassic Park toys. But after setting everything up on my bedroom floor (in the same configuration I did when I was 13), I found that there were several pieces that have seen better days. The Capture Copter is missing two blades and it's hook, my Jungle Explorer has a broken wheel, and many suffer from peeling stickers and the scuffs and nicks from a lifetime of loving play.
Ebay has several auctions going with items I could use to get it juuust the way I want it... It's only...$200 for the lot... Or there's another one, more items in slightly better condition for $300...
Oh, and look! This is a neat little thing I haven't seen before, and it's $5.99 (with $12.99 shipping). And this, for $19.99 (with $8.50 shipping)...

No, Ebay...no... Begone, demon! Daemonium, vade!

Every time I stray to Ebay (or Amazon for that matter), I end up finding way too many things that I should be spending my money on... I need to be strong against these consumerist daemons!

But Gods...that Explorer isn't that expensive...

I'm looking for an artist who would be willing to do an illustration for a short story I have been writing on the fictional culture of a group of tribal anthro Equines.

The story itself is a series of faux reports from a human adventurer contracted by her ruler to investigate a race of anthro Equines living in the plains and sparse woods far out on the borders of the kingdom. The duel purpose being to both learn about this previously little-known people, as well as hopefully set up trade and an exchange of culture.

This particular picture would be of the female and male genital adornments worn by these people (you didn't seriously think this would be general art, did you? :-P ).
It would feature a line of anthro equine mares, kneeling with their legs spread and rumps lifted and positioned to show off an assortment of female piercings common to their people (labia, and clitoral). In the background, a few loitering males would be visible, their own genitalia showing some standard decoration.
More details would be discussed with the artist.

I'll be looking around on my own, but if anyone knows an artist who would be willing to work with me on such a pic, please let me know and I'll get in contact with them.

Weapons of Mass Creation

(Stolen from VickyWyman, with permission)

Ladies and gentlemen

Especially you artists out there.

Listen up


The attack on the French cartoonists has generated exactly the response the narrow-minded murderers DID NOT want it to. It inspired artists all over the world to draw cartoons ridiculing the perpetrators --and the supporters-- of this cowardly act. My personal favorite was a drawing showing a line of pencils and pens with the caption "Weapons of Mass Creation".

Personally, I am a great supporter of Weapons of Mass Creation. I have quite an arsenal of them. And I think I might just have to use them tonight.

Would anyone care to join me?

Let's see if this year I can't find myself a cute guy to spent my life with, or a gal that doesn't mind being on top. Mrawr.

Otherwise, the closest thing I have to a "resolution" is to try and curb some of the profanity I've caught myself using.
I used to pride myself on being fairly well-spoken and courteous, but a share of vulgarity has been creeping up in my dialect. Thus are the risks of working in the place I work with the people I work with, I suppose. Not to mention my own unique sense of humour, where profanity as emphasis is common.

In any regard, the start of this year finds me in very good shape. I have a stable job where I seem to be well respected and appreciated, and I legitimately enjoy the job and the people I share it with. I also have a good living space, though it could use another bookcase (which is a good problem to have). All I really miss is the occasional hand to hold.

Journal brought to you by:
"Today I Tried to Live" by Soundgarden
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dbckIuT_YDc

It may be a tad early, but happy Hogswatch everyone.