My wife just said this out of nowhere. Just thought I'd share.
Unrelatedly, I almost bought the Ratt album "Out of the Cellar" yesterday at Amoeba and noticed "Invasion of Your Privacy" which I'd completely forgotten about. Isn't the album art and concept crazy? Do the invaders intend to assault or just watch this woman? Anyanka, how would Bitch magazine weigh in on this one?
How much to use the urinal adjacent to Mr. Getty at the Balboa Cafe?
I had the privilege and I can tell you it was absolutely pro boner (that's "free" for you morans)! His wallet isn't the only thing that's big! I'm kidding. I didn't even look over. Sorry this was a strange post. Hope his people don't come after me.
Babies are incapable of blowing their noses so parents are confronted with the problem of how to get the boogies out of their little one's little noses. At the hospital, the nurse gave us an aspirator; a tiny, rubber bulbous device with a needle-like protuberance that's inserted into your baby's nose. You squeeze and release and, much like a turkey baster, the boogers are then sucked into the cavity of the aspirator. It's effective, but you have to stick it too far up the the baby's nose and the powerful sucking action scares the child. The NoseFrida, developed by Swedish otolaryngologists, is a less intrusive, gentler device. There's a long tube and mouthpiece attached to the cylindrical cavity and you suck the boogers into this chamber.
My little Claudsie does seem less freaked out by this new device but she is still afraid of it. She knows it by sight now, and whenever we break it out she turns her head and crawls away. Very sad. Anyhow, I thought this would be a funny ad campaign for NoseFrida. Should I send it to them and see if they pay me a million dollars?
What is Condo Nastee? It's a new business venture catering to well-heeled, philandering men of leisure; the Tiger Woodses, the Eliot Spitzers and the Mark Sanfords of the world. Condo Nastee owns an impressive roster of well-appointed condominiums available for lease. Please contact our concierge for details.
...I'm not going to make any money from my NoseFrida graphic. You wonder how I know that? Cuz the owner of the company responded to my blog posting dummy (see below)! So now I have another idee-er. You know those ads you always see on the internet for the silly wordplay T-shirts? Like this one:I like this one too: You think they'd buy this one?I'd have to find some better fonts but I think this one might catch on with the booming young Sikh community we have here in the Bay Area.
Just had a thought: there should be an antidepressant named after the word "effervescent." That's how most of us want to be, right? Light and bubbly--capable of working a room like a young Bill Clinton. So this is the graphic I came up with for the ad campaign. I like how the dot of the "i" is part of the serotonin molecule and how the serotonin beneath the logo is trapped. And then, after you take Effervesix and "unleash the 'tonin," you'll feel like this young and beautiful Sandals-resort type couple! I know, I know--the fact that I had to explain all of this to you should tell me something; this graphic doesn't work at all. Bit of a stretch--but thought I'd post it anyhow because it's been almost a week since I've posted.
Working in media, I'm well aware that the final product that sits on shelves sees countless redesigns before it gets the green light; but I was heretofore blissfully unaware of the alternate cover art for The Beautiful Struggle. Brooklyn-based rapper Talib Kweli is known for his enlightened, conscious take on the African-American condition; his voice is a refreshing departure from the adventures in nihilism championed by most of the industry. But Kweli, to use the immortal words of Jennifer Aniston, seems to be a lacking a sensitivity chip when you look at the initial design of his second studio album:The final version is a bit more subtle:
Outside my living room window is the entrance to the USF dorms so I wind up doing a lot people watching. It's a yearly cycle that begins in the fall; the students arrive with their families in tow. Everyone helps lug the crap out of the U-HAUL. Next you see the Doors and the Dali posters go up; then all the floormates team up for a group drinking night; then you see people starting to pair up--like this couple I caught in a light moment: Then I realize they caught me (sorry for blur)!
designers to use royalty-free images. Frankly, I'm not sure why this should be a requirement. As you can see below I've managed to free the image of royals by filling them with a nice check pattern; a bold, blue stroke contrasts the fill quite nicely.But, again, in all honesty, I think the original image below works much better.
I sound like a cult leader by saying that, huh? I'm reposting some old stuff now because I have an informational interview today and this will need to serve as my portfolio until I can get it together and build a proper one. So just ignore these old posts; or re-read them if you like and get schooled by your leader! Look for some new stuff soon.
...they will be exposed... and they've got a sudden case of the emperor's new clothes.
Jaw-dropping segment on Maddow when Rand Paul wouldn't say he agreed with the Civil Rights Act in its entirety; he takes issue with the portion of the bill that forced private businesses to serve black people. From David Neiwert at Crooks and Liars re: Paul and his public face: "...camouflaging real extremism with a pleasant facade of mellow libertarian reasonableness." Looks like Paul's gonna need some new fatigues.
I lost my job last Tuesday. My reaction to the news surprised me--I'm not angry at all. I'm mostly sad. Sad that I'll probably never see most of the people I worked with for the last six years. Wonder why I'm not angry. Last time I lost my job at like 24 or 25, I wanted to firebomb those bitches. Now I guess I'm happy to be able to spend more time with my daughter. We'll go to the Zoo and eat some cotton candy. Maybe check out a county fair. Oh and we'll go to Kinder Boogie too. Had to sneak that in there cuz it's so hilarious sounding. That really does exist, actually. My mom's taken her a bunch of times; now, I can!
Think Jared's and Subway might tender an offer for this little gem? Laugh now but I may be onto something. They could do a whole series of commercials with him and his fiance--planning the wedding, with each other's in-laws; going to Subway and then to Jared's to buy the ring. Commercials are missing that serial, cliff-hanger element these days; just like this old one:Man that was sexy.
I became enveloped in a warm wave of nostalgia the other day. It was so intense that it turned wistful within moments. It was all because of Tom Selleck. I was watching TV when an orange juice ad came on and I realized he was providing the narration. My initial reaction was one of confusion--why use him? But his voice sounded sunny and familiar; confident. This is someone who could lead men into battle, emcee a roast for George Clooney, and take your boy to a ballgame. There was a bedrock of truthiness underneath it all, though. This man was no empty suit. Think Wilford Brimley delivering his homespun avuncularisms for Quaker Oats. That's how effective he was. Anyhow, the first memory this ad brought on involved Magnum P.I. of course; a show I didn't even watch. But my friend Sean Miller from grade school did. I remember, quite vividly, the title sequence with Magnum holding the snorkeling woman in the bikini while glancing down at her derriere; my thoughts turned to a day spent at Sean Miller's house when he showed me his dad's gun in the basement and his stack of Penthouses.We were in the Indian Guides together. Does anyone remember the Indian Guides? It was this YMCA-sponsored father/son thing; you'd get together with other fathers and sons and have an activity in which you'd make something or play a game and then you'd have a snack afterwards. Lastly, after our sugary snacks and juices, us boys would band together and challenge the dads to a Battle Royale WrestleMania match. I remember one time my dad had like three boys draped on his limbs and I was overcome with this need to protect him so I switched sides and battled my friends. Dads were called "chiefs," sons were "braves," and your group was a "tribe." Everyone wore a light-tan colored suede vest pinned with Indian-inspired flair. I've just now realized after doing some research on Seattle PI that "Y programs (have) shed Indian trappings now deemed racist: 'Indian Guides' will become 'Adventure Guides,' 'Princesses' will be 'Explorers' and 'tribes' are to be known as 'circles,' as the program's curriculum shifts to a more generalized one based on nature." Normally I'm not one of those Bill O'Reilly anti-PC guys, but this seems a little dumb.It seems I've gotten sidetracked; my main point was that this OJ ad got me thinking about this generalized idea of youth and the attendant existential vicissitudes of our time here (did I manage to sound smarter than I am with that sentence?); life is just really hard now and when I think of my childhood it all seems so gorgeously honey-dipped and golden-hued and perfect. Like how my folks went nuts come Christmas time; they'd do up the house like a goddamned circus and lay out their hundreds of christmas cards on this humongous shiny silver platter (between me and the wife, we get like three christmas cards!). Presents from my parents were wrapped but presents from Santa Claus (the big shit, like a bike) were left out unwrapped in the middle of the night; I'd always get up at like 3 am and go see what Santa brought. My dad knew this so he'd construct booby traps; he'd string together a bunch of pots and pans and pull a nice taut trip wire across the hallway. I usually managed to stealthily avoid his I.A.D.s (improvised alert devices) but he did get me one time I think.They took us all to Africa and we went on safari when I was like 11. How the hell are we going to afford to take Claudia to Africa? My mom would lovingly design our birthday cakes with our favorite pop culture figures of the moment. The one that really stands out was my brother's Kiss cake. She absolutely nailed Paul Stanley and his makeup. She'd make our Halloween costumes, too. She sewed my bro's Luke Skywalker costume and even created an R2D2 for him using a small wastebasket on wheels with a painted basketball on top for the head! Who has time for that kinda shit these days?Anyhow, all these thoughts rushing back served as a cathartic closing of the book on my childhood--it really is over now. I have a child now and it's time to man up and make my way in this fucking world. I'll take you and mom to Africa some day, Claudia, mark my words!
My wife just said this out of nowhere. Just thought I'd share. 
I want to start an urban/hip hop social media site called "Livelyhood." Any angel investors out there? Talk to me.
$17,600.
What is Condo Nastee? It's a new business venture catering to well-heeled, philandering men of leisure; the Tiger Woodses, the Eliot Spitzers and the Mark Sanfords of the world. Condo Nastee owns an impressive roster of well-appointed condominiums available for lease. Please contact our concierge for details.
I like this one too: 
You think they'd buy this one?
I'd have to find some better fonts but I think this one might catch on with the booming young Sikh community we have here in the Bay Area.
Just had a thought: there should be an antidepressant named after the word "effervescent." That's how most of us want to be, right? Light and bubbly--capable of working a room like a young Bill Clinton. So this is the graphic I came up with for the ad campaign. I like how the dot of the "i" is part of the serotonin molecule and how the serotonin beneath the logo is trapped. And then, after you take Effervesix and "unleash the 'tonin," you'll feel like this young and beautiful Sandals-resort type couple! I know, I know--the fact that I had to explain all of this to you should tell me something; this graphic doesn't work at all. Bit of a stretch--but thought I'd post it anyhow because it's been almost a week since I've posted.
The final version is a bit more subtle:
Debatable. Better appreciate me while I'm here though... cuz it'll be an armless man with chopsticks trying to fill these shoes.
Then I realize they caught me (sorry for blur)!
But, again, in all honesty, I think the original image below works much better. 
I'm freelancing for PBS now and have been working on a logo for their new talk show Penetrating Perspectives. What do you think?
I sound like a cult leader by saying that, huh? I'm reposting some old stuff now because I have an informational interview today and this will need to serve as my portfolio until I can get it together and build a proper one. So just ignore these old posts; or re-read them if you like and get schooled by your leader! Look for some new stuff soon.
...they will be exposed... and they've got a sudden case of the emperor's new clothes. 
good Kix was. Great cereal of my youth. Just got a box from the corner store. Big ass box for only 5.99!
I lost my job last Tuesday. My reaction to the news surprised me--I'm not angry at all. I'm mostly sad. Sad that I'll probably never see most of the people I worked with for the last six years. Wonder why I'm not angry. Last time I lost my job at like 24 or 25, I wanted to firebomb those bitches. Now I guess I'm happy to be able to spend more time with my daughter. We'll go to the Zoo and eat some cotton candy. Maybe check out a county fair. Oh and we'll go to Kinder Boogie too. Had to sneak that in there cuz it's so hilarious sounding. That really does exist, actually. My mom's taken her a bunch of times; now, I can!
Think Jared's and Subway might tender an offer for this little gem? Laugh now but I may be onto something. They could do a whole series of commercials with him and his fiance--planning the wedding, with each other's in-laws; going to Subway and then to Jared's to buy the ring. Commercials are missing that serial, cliff-hanger element these days; just like this old one:Man that was sexy.
I became enveloped in a warm wave of nostalgia the other day. It was so intense that it turned wistful within moments. It was all because of Tom Selleck. I was watching TV when an orange juice ad came on and I realized he was providing the narration. My initial reaction was one of confusion--why use him? But his voice sounded sunny and familiar; confident. This is someone who could lead men into battle, emcee a roast for George Clooney, and take your boy to a ballgame. There was a bedrock of truthiness underneath it all, though. This man was no empty suit. Think Wilford Brimley delivering his homespun avuncularisms for Quaker Oats. That's how effective he was. Anyhow, the first memory this ad brought on involved Magnum P.I. of course; a show I didn't even watch. But my friend Sean Miller from grade school did. I remember, quite vividly, the title sequence with Magnum holding the snorkeling woman in the bikini while glancing down at her derriere; my thoughts turned to a day spent at Sean Miller's house when he showed me his dad's gun in the basement and his stack of Penthouses.We were in the Indian Guides together. Does anyone remember the Indian Guides? It was this YMCA-sponsored father/son thing; you'd get together with other fathers and sons and have an activity in which you'd make something or play a game and then you'd have a snack afterwards. Lastly, after our sugary snacks and juices, us boys would band together and challenge the dads to a Battle Royale WrestleMania match. I remember one time my dad had like three boys draped on his limbs and I was overcome with this need to protect him so I switched sides and battled my friends. Dads were called "chiefs," sons were "braves," and your group was a "tribe." Everyone wore a light-tan colored suede vest pinned with Indian-inspired flair. I've just now realized after doing some research on Seattle PI that "Y programs (have) shed Indian trappings now deemed racist: 'Indian Guides' will become 'Adventure Guides,' 'Princesses' will be 'Explorers' and 'tribes' are to be known as 'circles,' as the program's curriculum shifts to a more generalized one based on nature." Normally I'm not one of those Bill O'Reilly anti-PC guys, but this seems a little dumb.
It seems I've gotten sidetracked; my main point was that this OJ ad got me thinking about this generalized idea of youth and the attendant existential vicissitudes of our time here (did I manage to sound smarter than I am with that sentence?); life is just really hard now and when I think of my childhood it all seems so gorgeously honey-dipped and golden-hued and perfect. Like how my folks went nuts come Christmas time; they'd do up the house like a goddamned circus and lay out their hundreds of christmas cards on this humongous shiny silver platter (between me and the wife, we get like three christmas cards!). Presents from my parents were wrapped but presents from Santa Claus (the big shit, like a bike) were left out unwrapped in the middle of the night; I'd always get up at like 3 am and go see what Santa brought. My dad knew this so he'd construct booby traps; he'd string together a bunch of pots and pans and pull a nice taut trip wire across the hallway. I usually managed to stealthily avoid his I.A.D.s (improvised alert devices) but he did get me one time I think.
They took us all to Africa and we went on safari when I was like 11. How the hell are we going to afford to take Claudia to Africa? My mom would lovingly design our birthday cakes with our favorite pop culture figures of the moment. The one that really stands out was my brother's Kiss cake. She absolutely nailed Paul Stanley and his makeup. She'd make our Halloween costumes, too. She sewed my bro's Luke Skywalker costume and even created an R2D2 for him using a small wastebasket on wheels with a painted basketball on top for the head! Who has time for that kinda shit these days?
Anyhow, all these thoughts rushing back served as a cathartic closing of the book on my childhood--it really is over now. I have a child now and it's time to man up and make my way in this fucking world. I'll take you and mom to Africa some day, Claudia, mark my words!
