Design

So I've got this new job. Been here for about 8 months now. So far, so good. It's a lot more creative than my last job and I get to do some pretty cool stuff. For starters, I'm currently drawing a coloring book. Can't really do that in the liquor industry.

Anyways, I'm posting something I've been working on this last week because I think it's pretty cool. Here are the two versions I came up with for a campaign aimed at the college crowd, advertising the local bus 11 that runs from Towson to Canton/Fells Point. Ultimately they ended up going with the second version but, personally, I like the first. What says you?

Version A:







Version B:

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FILET MIGNON!!

So yeah, I'm getting a little better at this cooking thing. The last few weeks Jess and I have been trying to cook different things so that we can break out of our Macaroni and Cheese, Tacos, and Spaghetti routine. I've tried my hand at Veggie Fried Rice with good results, also Chicken Fried Rice I'm pretty good at. Jon introduced us to home-made guacamole and Toquitos by grilling up some flank steak, rolling it up in a flour tortilla with pico-de-gio and french fries -- then dipping then frying them in veggie oil. Yeah, those are pretty amazing.

But anyways, here is our latest adventure: Filet Mignon. Jess does the potatoes and I cook the Asparagus and Meat on the grill. Last night, we nailed it, it was PERFECT. Buttery and tender with potatoes broiled in olive oil in a modest presentation.



I hope I just made someone hungry.

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Destination: Japan

Image up top is a shot Jess took from our first trip.

We're going back.

We couldn't NOT go back.

In a few weeks we'll be on a plane over an ocean. With nothing but a few suitcases between us, our DSs in tow -- the flight will be an eternity. However, we're not going alone this time. No, we've arranged for reinforcements.

Load up: Ricky, Jacy, Jess and Paul!
Form of: SUPER MEGA-GAIJIN!

We're a Voltron of volition. The Captain Planet of... um, nevermind. Captain planet sucked.

We're going to meet up with Tbor, the Heavy Metal Chef Jess and I met last year. He's going to show us the Tokyo night-life and possibly host a BBQ. We're going to some Shinto shrines and to a place called "Joypolis."

I do not expect to come back the same man.

I need this. I've come to a conclusion in my life, where hours blend into days, blend into weeks, blend into months -- there's just something peaceful about being in a place where you don't speak the native language. Everything slows down. The little things don't matter. You disappear. To me, I've never felt so free in my life.

Yes, we're going back. Escaping the maze, together.

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Posting some pics...

So here goes. These are from a while ago.


The boys! Twisp in the foreground, Pino in the background.



The JoCo Show with Paul and Storm! \m/



My wicked-ass Easter basket that the Easter bunny (Jess) brought me!




THE END!

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A champion of companiez!

So, today, the CEO of the company Jess works for announced that after firing 50+ employees, they would be buying a Wii to boost morale.

It makes perfect sense.

Hello, Stacey? Hi, this is Steve, from accounting? Yeah, hi. I'm fine. Listen, my Mii isn't mingling with Barbara's Mii. You know, Barbara, our receptionist? Right, I know, but it's upsetting and making for a very hostile work environment. Yes, I realize that. Isn't there anything you can do though? No, I haven't checked my network settings, what would that have to do with it? Yes, I've tried turning it off and on again. LOOK! I've ALREADY called I.T., they told me this was an H.R. problem!

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In the future.

In the future I envision, there's a vast wasteland of abandoned blogs. Words written in the throws of emotion and too soon forgotten. Empty. The way we think of a wild-west ghost-town in an old spaghetti western. A dried husk, haunted with old, dark, whispered secrets.

The clack of thunder and the smell of an electric-storm heavy on the horizon.

I am here.

I will write soon.

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Pack it up, we're done here.

The planet has officially gone retarded. Below you will find Exhibits A, B and C in defense of my point.


Exhibit A:



No, you're not on acid this early in the morning, this is a screen-shot from the new Transformers Animated Series. Optimus Prime is indeed shaped like a transient from Muscle Beach and Bumblebee has been confirmed to be the Yellow Power Ranger. And what the crap is that big-ass green thing? I mean, are we really catering to this, the lowest of all common denominators? He's a fat robot for crying out loud. I can hear the groaners now.

Optimus Prime to Fat Robot:
"Have another energon-cube, fatobot!"

Fat Robot in comedic robot clown voice:
"I'm not fat, I'm big endo-skeletoned"

It's comic GOLD, it practically writes it's self!


Exhibit B:



Honestly, I'm speechless. I mean, seriously, WHAT THE HELL IS THAT? Everything about the above clip is watered down non-sense. The animation, the voices, the THEME SONG -- all of it wreaks of laziness. This is the same animation style as seen in sub-par wanna-be-anime style shows on the Cartoon Network like Teen Titans. No, scratch that, Teen Titans is years beyond this trash. I mean, who the hell thought this was a good idea? Also, can someone explain to me why robots have freaking TEETH?


Exhibit C:



Click that image above for more images. Be prepared though, have the knife ready. Let me know when you've clicked. Done? Okay, so what you want to do is: stab yourself in the left eye, then stab yourself in the right eye as quickly as possible. This will ensure that you no longer have the privilege of seeing your childhood sodomized before your eyes. Though, I guess if you're still reading this, you either have a braille monitor or you didn't follow my advice. Thats fine. Let's continue.

So, he's got a shield and an axe now? Seriously, a SHIELD and an AXE? What are these, medieval robots? The dude is supposed to be made out of metal, what the hell does he need a shield for? And a shield made from the same material as HIS OWN BODY no less.

Also: notice how Optimus (I shuddered when I typed that) has no hard corners or edges. Notice how he's smooth and made of plastic. This is so little retarded Jimmy can't hurt himself. This is just one of the ways uptight soccer moms are ruining the planet. When I was a kid our Transformers were made out of the same material as our playground slides. FUCKING METAL! They weighed as much as a brick, and let me tell you something Suzie, those bastards made a dent if they ever connected with your forehead. And we were tougher for it. We didn't whine like babies when we got a skinned knee -- and you know why? Because our toys could fucking KILL US!

Take away the possibility of harm, take away the danger, take away the fun. It's as simple as that.

Damn it, I just used the phrase: "When I was a kid..." See what you made me do!

Let's just, move on.


Exhibit D:



For comparison purposes, here's the REAL Prime that sits on my desk. Enjoy your watered down, no taste, no fun world you idiots.

I'll be stabbing myself in the face if anyone needs me.

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