Liquid Art

My friend posted this cool picture, the artist (Alberto Seveso) uses colored varnish poured into a fish bowl. He also does some other really cool stuff with vectors and photoshop. Check out these sites to be inspired.

Pictures
Vector People

Stream of Consciousness

I think some people only have a creek (or crick) of thoughts. I was just going to say “I wonder if people ever have a dry spell of thoughts” when I realized that my brain becomes a vast Sahara desert multiple times of the day.

I wish camel caravans would cross it. If they did, I would stop and ask them to lead me to water. Or I’d slice open one of the camels and suck its humped water reserve dry. Then again, I bet most caravans these days carry an assortment of guns, so it would be a risky business, and I’m not making a Tom Cruise reference.

Ben and Jerry's Part II

The other night I bought another Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream. In case you don’t remember, the last carton of Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream that I bought ran away with the neighbors’ popsicles for a cold love affair. This time around, this one didn’t escape. The only escaping it will see is the toilet bowl. I’m just saying.

Price of Glory

I don't normally post stuff like this, but this article is very thought provoking. The other day I was contemplating what it means to "be the best." The thought occurred to me that our culture celebrates only the best, those who dedicate themselves to one task, eliminating practically everything else. Yes, I'm talking about Olympic athletes, among others. Think about the motivational posters in our schools-they are usually NBA stars and celebrities and the such. What does this teach us at a young age? I'll get off my soap box now, but you really should read this article that was shown to me after telling someone my thoughts.
The Price of Glory

When You Try For An Eternal Companion on Facebook

The following is a true story. My roommate Jackie got a friend request on Facebook and after she agreed, this boy sent her this message. Mind you, she has never met him or has any ties to him whatsoever. He is a complete stranger to her and attends BYU. After getting the message, she didn't know what to write back, so naturally I took charge and wrote back for her.Read on...

Hi Jacque,
I am glad that you took the faith to add me on your profile. Should I take it, that you're interested in exploring possibilities for a relationship? I have been long back from my mission in Cape town, and not it is high on my priorities to meet my eternal companion. Don't be shy if you feel like persuing that direction. Otherwise, I am glad to meet you. Ask, if there is anything you want to know about me.
Simon

Sims,
I'm so flattered that you find me as a potential eternal companion. At this time I only am pursuing a career to make money. Although I am a faithful member of the church, I do not believe I am your type. First off, we actually haven't met. Secondly, if you're trying to woe a potential eternal companion, use their Christian given name. Nicknames are saved for intimate lovers; which we are not. You seem like a nice guy. There is something I would like to ask you, how in the good name of Obama did you chance across my profile? I only added you because curiosity killed the cat (my cat died after wondering what it was like to sleep in the next to the engine of my dad's F-150). I'm not saying I've died, if we're still going with the cat metaphor then I still have plenty of lives. Besides all of this, the distance between our hearts and geographical wise would create too much tension that would result in a long car ride listening to Celine Dion songs. And I'm not talking about myself. So to wrap it up like a crazy person wearing only cellophane (to which the psychiatrist said "I can clearly see your nuts") I'm going to politely say thanks but no thanks without giving a long drawn out explanation. You have a good one.

(He wrote this back to her the next day)
I am sorry if l did upset you,
I must mention though, that you're such a gifted
writer. I am not anywhere near your ability, l will
therefore give up the ideas I propossed. If however along the way, you can see the better side of what can come between me and you, you're welcome to throw me a line. Best wishes,
Simon

Who I Am

According to Urban Dictionary.com, Elissa is: A sultry and exotic looking woman who knows what she wants and how to get it. An Elissa is a rare kind of woman who is widely known for her great personality and warmheartedness. She is an exceptionally goodnatured person who has an unparalleled ability to light up anyone's life. Elissas are also known for their unsurpassing cooking skills...and dance skills. A person you won't ever forget. If you happen to meet an Elissa, consider yourself extremely lucky.

Wow. I swear I didn't write this. I guess now it is out for the world to know that yes, I do have unsurpassing dance skills. I wasn't about to flaunt that with anyone, as there are only a lucky few who have gotten to witness this talent. Look up your name. Not promising it will match so awesomely as mine did, but give the fates a chance.

HD sat on a wall

My fellow bloggers, it is with great sadippness (sadly happy) that I inform you of my whereabouts of the last month. I am not a rebellious person, so when the opportunity arises to rebel, I take it by its castrated bull horns. I decided to rebel against blogging for a whole month, and what an even more rebellious act than to not start off the new year with a blog.

There were times, I admit, when I was tempted, but not until tonight has there been a relinquish of my rebellion. It is with great trepidation that I present this short (albeit long for a blog) story I am in the works of, that I may receive your loyal advice to further my aspiring dreams of becoming a hand model. How this story will further those dreams, it has not been revealed to me as of yet. For those of you still reading, I thank you. For those of you who actually finish the whole thing, I thank you more. If I were in the Miss America pageant, you would be my platform. Good luck.

HD Sat On a Wall

HD sat on a wall.

HD had a great fall.

He then underwent trauma surgery at Kingmen’s Hospital and was in the ICU for the next couple of days. Sitting on a wall will do that to you.

Long before the great fall, all the King’s horses told him he needed some activity. “You need some activity,” they said. “Do Wii® fit,” they said. “Sign up for the Biggest Loser®,” they said.

But HD just sat.

And sat.

And sat.

Soon a real estate mogul wanted that wall. He could see his 298.7 lbs. (his last cleanse had taken off a victorious .3 lbs) framed body dressed in a knock-off Armani® suit, chartreuse green paisley tie, three-hair-strand come-over and walrus like mustache, cutting the ribbon for a giant mall. 

It would have everything that the local Family Dollar store didn’t; complete with a JCPenny’s®, Claire’s® and a Hollister®. Hollister® was so very hot to have in a mall. Perhaps an indoor roller coaster…yes, that would bring more customers which would bring more money. But there, right where the food court would go, the mogul’s vision was broken like the interruption of your favorite television show with the news flash of a lame car chase, with HD’s wall.

“I’ll fry him sunny side up,” the mogul said.

“As long as you bring him home with bacon, dear,” the mogul’s wife said. She could care less about a mall, as she was an eBay® junkie who got giddy when purchasing 1975 deodorants in their original packaging.

The mogul decided to offer HD a proposition. “HD, I have decided to offer you a proposition. You get down off this wall and I’ll build you your own little wall out in the country. It will have a nice oak tree to shade it, some luscious blue grass to ground it and stone lion heads to adorn it. What could be better, hey HD?”

HD liked this. The once beige bricks were now a vomit splattered color (not a color found within the Behr® collection). They were crumbling, which caused a multitude of wholes like giant sized pores that even Proactiv® wouldn’t be able to clear up. This led to countless spiders and other varmints that HD considered roommates, but the kind you wanted to give away for free on craigslist.

His wall was covered in black letter and san serif neon graffiti with things like Your mom sits on a wall and Free the Idahoan Potato Snail. Interspersed between the graffiti was an assortment of bubble gum wads, his least favorite being Fruit Stripe®, as the gum’s flavor would hardly last the length of the wall and so there upon the wall it was disposed of.

But it was his home. This is where he sat.

And sat.

And sat.

So he wanted to tell the mogul no, but HD was an egg, so he couldn’t talk, or he’d crack under the pressure.

After the silence the duration of the space between a cricket’s chirps (which is based on the temperature, and the temperature that day was 74°), the mogul threw up his feet and said “your loss.”

Finding his wife anxiously awaiting the results of a 1988 Care Bear lunchbox in pristine condition, the mogul slumped his belly button under the table. “I’ll scramble him,” he said. “As long as you remember the cooking spray on the pan this time, dear,” the mogul’s wife said.

And so, one day, as HD sat on the wall, because he obviously didn’t do anything besides sit, the mogul got a 50 story crane and politely (he was a Southern man after all) knocked HD off.

HD had a great fall.

After being in the ICU for 3 days it was determined he wouldn’t make it. “I’ve determined he won’t make it,” Dr. McDreamy® said. They tried to find his relatives, but no one knew of any eggs that giant. Not even the incredible edible egg knew the origins of HD. “Some incredible egg he is,” said an innocent bystander.

Funeral arrangements were quickly made, for no one likes a rotten egg, especially one that size. The town gathered and respectively mourned, the mogul’s wife wearing an exact replica of Halle Berry’s 2001 Oscar dress. As chance would have it, it was the mogul who was chosen to give the eulogy.

“As chance would have it, I have been chosen to give the eulogy,” the mogul said over the microphone on a make-shift platform directly in front of HD’s wall. “We all saw HD sitting upon this decrypted wall night in and afternoon out and I’m sure we all wondered ‘why?’ Frankly, I don’t know why. 

"Being a Southern man after all, I try not to concern myself with other’s personal lives. Sure, there are rumors that he was raised in a hard-boiled type family, that his daddy Benedict would beat him with a whisk, or that his dear mother just didn’t have time for the whole dozen. He may have not ever gotten a grade A, double A or triple A distinction, but HD was definitely a large egg.”

What the town’s people didn’t know is that the murder attempt, ahem, accident, had caused HD to finally come out of his shell. He was actually just a 20-something kid, trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life. On the wall he was able to ponder the meaning of life and … During his great fall, he suddenly realized pondering the meaning of life only gets you so far, if you’re not actually living life then there is no meaning. 

When all shell broke loose, he ran.

And ran.

And ran. 

He ended up somewhere in Asia in the technology business. There, he was appreciated, especially by the Asians who revered long egg maturing practices. He was no thousand year old duck egg, but he was no chop suey either. His research led him to revolutionize (without Napoleon or his soldiers) a new way at watching television. He decided to name it after himself. “I’ve decided to name this after myself,” he said.

Back in that fateful town, the media mogul had built that mall, complete with the JCPenny’s®, Claire’s® and Hollister®. During the ribbon cutting ceremony, the mogul stood on a brand new wall, but as he bent over all 299.9 lbs (if he only hadn’t had eaten those three pee-can pies that morning) caused him to have a great fall. 

He then underwent triple bypass surgery at Kingmen’s Hospital, only to awake to find that his wife had bought his mall, parking garage included, on eBay® and ran off with the innocent bystander (who, as it turns out, wasn’t so innocent). He was now destitute. “I am now destitute,” he said.

Lying in his hospital bed, he used the remote to turn on the newly installed state of the art HDTV. There, featured on Dateline® was the creator of the very TV the mogul was watching; a man with an oddly familiar egg-shaped head, sharing his incredible (but not edible) life story.

“Looking back on my time on the wall, I consider it a very eggistentialistic moment in my life, one that I wouldn’t trade for all the walls in the world: The Great Wall of China, the Berlin Wall, and especially not Wall Street. 

"And real-estate mogul, if you’re watching, I just want you to know, the yolk’s on you.”