KeepingYouAwake

I won, I won, I won!!!

No, not the lottery…  Even better!  I won Chelle’s contest for a homemade Zombie doll over at Coffee & Zombie Movies !!!

Revel in the hand-made goodness

There were some really nice entries too, which is why I am lucky that it was a random selection.

Check out the announcement page, and if you missed it, my entries to the contest.

Short post?  Yes.  Use the time you saved here, checking out Chelle on Twitter and her website, Coffee & Zombie Movies.

I made a new internet-friend the other day, HellaChella, who as I’ve previously discussed cannot help me move, lend me money or bring me a sandwich…  What she can do, though, is make a bad ass sock puppet zombie.

It is because of that fact, that I am writing this post today.  You see, she’s got a contest going over at Coffee & Zombie Movies to post (on your own blog) the ugliest things you own.  There might have been rules to post only a few things, but I don’t like reading rules.  Rules are dead to me.  And nobody like dead rules, or rule zombies.  This has become a tangent.

A plaster cast of Falstaff from Shakespeare fame. Won this in a random auction box once. Everyone needs a fat guy getting drunk for their desk.

Phantom of the Opera brass lamp. This is a sad entry, as I've known this lamp all my life. It was my grandmothers, and last summer the lens was broken and the face dented... Still, pretty darn ugly.

UGLY crystal lamp that came, wrapped in an afghan, inside an antique dresser we bought.

Kitty Cat Creamer. He's here to pour your cream, then steal your soul.

The Haunted Vent Covers. We have 2. Both are broken and add a special ambience to any room.

This is the actual wallpaper from my laundry room, shot from maybe 5 feet away. BIG pattern... Notice the crazy floral wallpaper theme in the other pictures? We have A LOT of it.

The Wooden Boy. He holds his bowl laboriously, full of fake mustaches. Carved from a single piece of wood, and I am not positive he's not really alive.

Classic Car Dash for your wall. This is a GIANT art piece, made to look like the interior of a classic car. It has working dimmable dash lights, a working clock and (drumroll) a functional stereo and speaker.

The lady of the sea is a mural painted on the floor, just inside our front door. I wonder why the painter saw it fit to make her have some rolls and smallish boobies? Hmmm.. We may never know.

The Faceless Woman. This is the inside of our stained glass window, visible from the front of our 150+ year old country house. From the front she is gorgeous... From inside, the cold dark hallway, she has no face.

I’m a 10-year student in search of a Bachelor’s.  Laugh if you must, but my class tonight was in the art of sequential art…  Comics.  Who’s laughing now?  Seriously…  I hear someone laughing…  Is it just me?  I hate that…

Anyway, we were given a task tonight that we had to leave the class, go somewhere else in a basically deserted building, and make a comic based on something we saw.  The first panel had to be something we saw, then we build the rest.  I picked up my things and set off to find someone to base my story on.  There was nothing interesting happening, so I based it on some guy in dress clothes, talking on his cellphone.

DISCLAIMER: I drew this crap in about 45 minutes, so it’s ugly.  It’s also not been cleaned up in photoshop, so these are just rough pencil sketches.  Oh yeah, and it’s a bit dark.

No, it's not. It's not the same thing AT ALL!

Angela!!! You're not listening to me! Something is wrong!!!

You've never been so cold. *sob*

FINE!

Oh, I almost forgot, don't use the bath... I left the toaster in there...

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HAHAHAHA…  Get it?  It’s because she’s dead.  Because he forgot to tell her he left the toaster in the bathtub.  Classic blunder.

Thoughts or interpretations?

Do you ever look up your username in Google to make sure nobody else is stealing it, forcing you to have to kill them,  or… you know, just to see your own trail?  Well I did it today.  Although some douchebag is using my name on MySpace, which I guess I don’t mind because it’s fucking MySpace and it’ll go away on its own, my trail looked to be all me.

One thing that turned up in my results was a link to some site called Amplicate.  It’s one of many websites that watches Twitter and shows up when you search your name because they replicate your content, which is fine because it’s all public and if you didn’t mean it to be, then surprise, you should have read the manual.  Word.

Amplicate.com

Amplicate seems to aggregate what you say and look for certain patterns to find what you like and don’t like.  Here’s what mine told me about me:

• Boobies Rock – Given.
• Charity Rocks
• Costco Rocks
• Cruelty Sucks
• Golf Sucks
• Grooveshark Rocks
• Movies Rock
• Nickelback Sucks
• Reason Sucks – This one referred to me hating being back on a college campus.
• Rod Sucks – Rod Stewart.  It’s true.  He does suck.
• Surprise Sucks – Actually, it said suprise, to which I add “Spelling Sucks”

It also suggested people I would like, based on our likes and dislikes:

• Good Morning America – Morning Show
• Tony Hawk – Pro Skater
• Joel McHale – Author
• BBC Click – BBC Tech TV Show
• Demi Moore – Ashton’s Sexy Cougar

I also found that I could enter some of your twitter usernames into the search box at the top, if I know you.  If I don’t know you, it’s nice to meet you.  Make me a sandwich.

You guys are opinionated as hell too.  Damn.  We’re some bitchy mofos.

This did make me think, though, that it’s interesting how some people hold back opinions to keep the peace, and others broadcast it in your ear with an oceanliner horn.  While I want people to like me, and you do too (If you say you don’t you’re lying to yourself), I want to be liked for the weirdo that I am.

I think my opinions above are too vanilla.  I’m going to be even more opinionated and really blow this shit off the charts.  What do you love and hate?

In school I never minded doing something stupid for a laugh.  That’s right, I was a pre-pubescent attention whore.  Nothing has changed.  If it makes any difference I’m doing it all for you.  In that regard, I’d ask you to please leave some money on the dresser and see yourself out.

I love mystery, but I’m always trying to figure it out.  Effectively, I’m trying to kill the mystery I love so much.  When I read a new blog, or someone I’ve read for a long time, I often wonder what they look like.  How old are they?  Are they cooler than me?  Generally, yes and lately I’ve seen a handful of posts where brave bloggers post pictures of themselves and kill the anonymity for me.

Because I’m not much for anonymity and Aunt Becky, posted a self-humiliation post that I’ve been meaning to respond to for a month now, I present to you pictures from my k-12 years + one.  Here they are in order, as best I can tell:

1983-ish

That’s right.  Suede cowboy boots, a chicken leg in one hand, a popgun in the other, diaper and some character sunglasses.  This is probably my favorite picture of myself ever and the one I provide when anyone requests it.

1987-ish

I pity the fool that didn’t get the “I’m a ghost looking at myself” pictures in school.  This is almost as cool as the laser-beam trick that they did with vinyl mini-blinds and gel lights.  almost.

1993-ish

And here’s when the whole thing went downhill.  Note the BUM shirt, which was WAY oversized, the retarded bird’s nest on my head and the smirk that I know what’s up.  You’ll also notice I’m much fatter in this picture AND wearing a necklace that features a dragon holding a pearlescent marble.  Those last two things go hand-in-hand.

1996-ish

Growing into the pimple-faced rock t-shirt wearing dork you know and love today.  Or know and hate.  That’s a Pearl Jam tshirt, and a lovely example of hair that says “fuck you, hair gel.  I’ll do what I want.”

2000-ish

Oh dear God…  I let my hair grow out into what can only be described as a human mushroom cap.  In profile, as a silhouette, I would have looked like a giant penis.  Lots of people would say that hasn’t changed.  Those people are assholes.  Oh, I almost missed the bit of douchebaggery on my chin there.  That’s right, folks.  I was full-on hippie.

2001-ish

I picked pictures at random and they were mostly from k-12, so I almost threw this one out except that I wanted to detail that in my first apartment I was cooking my own food.  It involved car keys and prescription medication, but I was cooking!  I also got a haircut since I was now out on my own becoming a respectable (right…) member of society.

Well, there you go.  I’m sure there are cuter pictures of me before I was capable of completely fucking it up and there are definitely way more embarrassing pictures of the later years, but these are the ones I picked, so kiss it.

What do you look like?  (I’m betting my comments will be really low on this one…)