Saturday, June 17, 2006

Anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job. - Douglas Adams

Thanks for coming back. If, indeed, you are coming back. If not, I suppose thanks for coming by. Or not. Whichever the case may warrant. I can't figure out how to use the fershlugginer counters so, I don't know if anyone is reading this at all.

Anywho... So, the president. Yeah. What a douche. Yep, I said douche. Him and his 'New American Century' Cabal. Recently, Mr. Bush made another attempt to pass the Gay Marriage Ban. Probably the worst part of this to me is that, he doesn't even give a shit about gays. It's pure politics. His party needs something to unify the base and since no one likes the war anymore, and running around like Chicken Little, screaming "Terrorism! Jihadists! Muslims! Oh NOES!!!1!1!" isn't doing it. So, he decides that after 2 years of ignoring gay marriage pretty much altogether, let's do that banning thing again. It's bullshit. I'm so tired of these Neo-Con bigots running this country into the ground. It kills me that POLITICIANS are gonna try and govern us by MORALS & RELIGION. Politics, morals & religion are three words that should never EVER go together in the same sentence. Once you start imposing your values and beleifs on other people, you begin a slippery slope towards totalitarian rule.
I guess what really chaps my ass is that people keep placing these people in power. And I don't mean the electorate. I mean the guys with real power. The people that, given the proper motivation, can hand a candidate an election. And no one gives a shit. It just galls me. Thoughts? Opinions? Put 'em down in the comment section.

It's art time!
Well, tomorrow's Father's Day. I'm not a father, but I do have one. So, Dad if you read this, Happy Father's Day. You're ugly, you smell funny, and you're short, but I love ya.
The pic today was gonna be a father's day card for my dad, but I never finished it. Sorry, dad. The character is Monty the Mallard. He was created by my grandfather a long time ago, and now, I've kind of adopted him. Hope you like it.

Saturday, June 10, 2006

My work is a game, a very serious game. - M.C. Escher

It's that time again. Thanks for coming back.

Well, it's Saturday, and I'm at work. Judging by some of the posts on the GDF , I'm not the only one. Being a graphic designer & illustrator, I think today's quote holds special meaning. I love my work. I love it so much that it's also one of my hobbies. If I couldn't do design as a job, I'd probably still do it at home. Now, lots of people are designers, and some of them are better at it than I am. Many of them are members of the aforementioned GDF, and the HOW forums. These are two forums that are about the same profession, but are completely different in their ideologies. GDF is a forum that exists to help build up designers, and make them as good as they can be. They do this through constructive criticism and supportive comments. They make one feel like they belong. I like that. HOW, on the other hand, is like the other side of GDF's coin. They are, on the whole, rude, argumentative and snobby. They make it a point to alienate and belittle anyone who sets a virtual foot into their domain. They do this with unconstructive comments, and rudeness, and are very often vulgar and demeaning. This is not to say all the members there are rude, there are a few who are genuinely there to help it seems, but the vocal majority seems content in making themselves feel good at the expense of others. These others are often new designers in or fresh out of college, who may very well be scared off the design field altogether after being lambasted for an (in their eyes) inferior design. Recently, while surfing the HOW forums, I came upon a post ridiculing the website of a friend of mine. The comments were unsolicited, and unconstructive. This man makes money vectorizing logos so that they can be used in many applications. He does not design the logos in question. However, the designers there made no attempt to understand the content of the site, or the owner's intentions. They mocked the design of his site, his business model, and the work. The thread author's own comments pretty much admit to the fact that he was just looking for something to bitch about. Now, there are designers on that site who's work I admire greatly. But it kills me to see them jump in and kick a person when he can't defend himself. That's bullshit. Some people need to be knocked down a few pegs, methinks. Mr. Glitscka, if you ever read this, I'm a great fan of your work and style. You are one of my biggest design influences. But, to do shit like this demeans yourself and the profession you represent. Please consider that when next you decide to pick on someone who is not harming you or your source of income.

I'm posting two pieces today. These are advertisements for O.B. Tampons. When I was out of work, and looking for a job, I was referred to a woman who runs a yarn manufacturing company. After a length review of my portfolio, it was determined that my style was 'too masculine.' However, she decided that she'd give me a chance to prove that I can do a 'feminine style'. So, in lieu of doing up an ad for her company that she might have stolen, I did ads for tampons. In hindsight, they may have been a bit too risqué, but I felt that they deal with a very true to life occurence. Any man who is close with a woman, has had to go to the store to get feminine products. I know I have. And any woman who sends her man out to retreive these products knows the frustration of describing a pink or purple box among the wall of pink and purple boxes. Thus, the idea behind these. O.B.'s boxes are white with a band of color indicating their absorbency. EASY TO FIND. So, here you go.

On an unrealted note, the U.S. House of Representatives is trying to take away your right to see this and anything else on the internet. The telecom lobbyists are paying your legislators off to give them complete control over the internet. Thereby limiting what you can and can't see without having to pay. THIS MUST NOT HAPPEN! To stop this, click the link on the sidebar labeled 'Save the internet.' (or, you can click here if you're lazy ;))

Saturday, June 03, 2006

There is still no cure for the common birthday. - John Glenn

Sorry I haven't been updating regularly.

Well, it's my b-day today. The big 25. Yippee. So far, it's a bit underwhelming. I'm a quarter of a century old, and I just feel tired and worn out. Like a piece of cloth thats been stretched really tight and rubbed against some rocks.

It's days like this when you notice how alone you are. My wife & I moved to Tempe in January of 2005. Last year's birthday came & went with very little fuss. My wife took me out to dinner and got me a gift (an awesome one, btw. Thanks again, Babe). My coworkers at the time didn't care, but that was alright because I didn't like them anyway. My family didn't call. My friend's from back home didn't call. But, I had my wife (who spent my birthday arguing with the Cingular wireless customer service rep.), and that was enough.

For some reason, I expected this year to be different. My wife wished me Happy Birthday this morning as I was getting ready for work. My friends at started a thread doing the same. I appreciate it. But, once again, no calls from friends or family.

Maybe I'm just being a crybaby. Maybe I should bite the bullet and grow the fuck up. But screw that. I spent too many years trying to regain some childhood. I grew up too fuckin' fast to wanna spend anymore time as an adult than I absolutely have to. I want my present, my card, my cake and my Chuck'E Cheese's party, Goddamn it! Is that too much to ask?

Alright. Pity party off.

This week, I started a cafepress shop called Monkey Minion Press ( There's nothing there yet, but there will be soon. Keep an eye open. This illustration will be the inaugural design. So far, people seem to like the bottom one best, so that'll be the one to be printed. I may use the other as a poster or something at some point.

End Transmission. Dane out.