One "To Do" List I Can Handle.

via We Heart It

Things That Are Rad.

Every so often, the internet is very good to me. Every link followed leads to something unbelievable, or beautiful, or just plan rad. This afternoon has been one of those (rare) gratifying afternoons spent click-click-clicking through links, and my friends: there is a lot of Rad shit out there. I'm sitting here with twenty open internets tabs--a list of shit I don't necessarily want to bookmark, but don't want to forget about either. And I want to share these cyber-finds with you (yes, you!).

It's been a while since I've done a "Things That Are Rad" list. In fact, I've yet to do one here on SCP. I will now remedy this with the first official

Semicolon Comma Period's Ten Things That Are Rad.

Here we go (please note that, while these are numbered, they are not in order of Radness):

10.The Neon Museum
(If I knew the appropriate html to make that header blink, it would be blinking.)

Holy crap I want to hang out here. It has taken Carhenge's place on "The List of Kitschy Crap In The U.S. I Want to See Before I Die" (which would place it only slightly below Graceland, Dollywood, The Giant Head of Abraham Lincoln, and The Mecca of Albino Squirrels).

From The Neon Museum's Website:

"The Neon Museum's mission is to collect, preserve, study and exhibit neon signs and associated artifacts to inspire educational and cultural enrichment for diverse members of our international community."

Apparently, you have to have special permission to photograph the signs, but I want to. I want to photograph those signs. I want to film a movie around those signs. Hell, I want to live among those signs...

They've amassed a collection from the 1930's on, and focus on the evolution of design and pop culture throughout the last century. The above pictures are from a Flickr set called The Neon Sign Boneyard, which could've been a gorgeous set if the light had been better, but is still beautiful.

9.Creative Advertising for "True Blood"



Ok, "True Blood" is awful. It's really not good (or, at least the pilot was terrible. I didn't keep watching after that.) But this is an incredibly clever advertising campaign. I've got nothing but love and respect for whomever came up with this.

8.Disney + Span of Sunset's "Goth Cheshire Cat"



If I was one of those people who thought it was a good idea to get a cartoon character tattooed somewhere on my body, I would get the Cheshire Cat. I wouldn't, but I toy with the idea... Of course, I would get the original John Tenniel rendition, which bears only vague similarities to the Disney version, but that doesn't hinder my love for this piece that's selling at The Sunset Store for $60.

7.Taxidermy



When I was a kid, my grandparents' house was full of taxidermied animals that my grandfather and uncles had killed. Cougars, pheasants, deer, and so on. First I thought they were creepy; then I thought they were enchanting. When my grandparents sold their collection, I was a little heartbroken. I was reminded again how much I love the art of taxidermy when I watched "The Lost Boys" last year. And again every time I listen to the Eddie Izzard bit about trying to fit the whole of the Gobi Desert into a squirrel. And then again today, when I read this article about the modern take on taxidermy in art.

Granted--I'm someone who takes pictures of mutilated birds because I think they're pretty--but there's something hauntingly beautiful about what these artists are doing.

7.a."Trophy" by Caralyn Salas



7.b."Sleeping Bear" by Eiko Ishizawa



(Not really taxidermy, but in the same vein.)

6.Howie's "Hand Me Down" Backpack



There is no way I could ever justify spending £195 on a backpack, but I want it. I want it, I want it, I want it! It's classic and rugged and I want it!

5.The Greatest Way To Say "Fuck You to Your Parents, Ever



From oneplusinfinity:

An 18-year-old has secretly painted a 60ft drawing of a penis on the roof of his parents’ £1 million mansion in Berkshire. It was there for a year before his parents found out. They say he’ll have to scrub it off when he gets back from travelling.

Fuck, I wish I'd thought of that when I was eighteen. I also wish I was the kind of douche-bag rich kid whose parents wouldn't cancel my credit cards upon discovering that I had drawn a 60 ft penis on the roof of their £1 million mansion.

3."New Math" by Craig Damrauer







Baked Fresh Every Monday!

3.Ray Ban's Super Chameleon



Yeah, I know: I'm a total fucking slut for Ray Ban. But I like what they did with this. Also, I still want Wayfarers in every color of the rainbow.


2.RIFLE Blog



Anna Bond (a graphic designer and illustrator out of FL and web-mistress... owner... proprietor... ladyperson of RIFLE) started the RIFLE blog in February. She uses it to post updates about her art and what-not, but also to post some of the things that inspire her. Which tickles me pink, since a lot of the things she's inspired by are things I also love (stamp collections, shit from The Evolution Store (and speaking of The Evolution Store, I WANT THIS!), paper illustration work, old maps). It's nice to find that someone else has done all of the leg-work for you. Which leads perfectly into

1.That Jim Jarmusch Quote That's Making Its Way Across the Interverse




One Thing That Is Incredibly NOT Rad:

The fucking chihuahua/wiener dog beast that I'm dog-sitting this week. Jesus. If there was ever any doubt which side of the "Lapdog v. Cat" debate I fell on, this week has settled it: I'm a cat person.

Tenfour.

Talking About Shit I Know Nothing About.

I don't like to talk economics, mostly because I haven't bothered to remain informed about what's happening and why. But I can't help but thinking that if we were to go to war to solve this crisis--if we go to war in an attempt to fix the economy--it wouldn't work as well as the conservative talking heads seem to think it would. They're claiming that WWII was what pulled us out of The Great Depression, and it's sort of being suggested that the same thing could work now... but would it? I mean, part of the reason WWII helped (notice that I'm not saying fixed) the economy in the States is because it created jobs. But, see, would it now? Since we've outsourced everything? And who the fuck would buy bonds right now? Does anyone really trust that they'll get that money back? Though, I suppose if you put Obama's portrait on them people would buy 'em up, right?

It just seems like a fucking retarded theory. Not to mention the fact that we're already at war. But maybe I should learn the facts before I form an opinion...

I'm going to go skulk back to my dark, ignorant corner now.

...

I've been in the beginning stages of a full-on panic attack for about three days.


I can prevent it (the actual attack) from happening. I've learned to do that much.


But I can't go back to 'good'...

One Part Crafty, The Other Part Carping.

.Part One.
As previously mentioned, I've been contemplating making life-sized, 3D self-portraits in the form of soft-bodied dolls with hard heads, arms, and legs. Originally, I was going to attempt to sculpt my likeness from paper mache, but I think that medium would

a.) be too heavy, and
b.) not lend itself to the fabrication of details (such as my nose), as every paper mache visage I've crafted in the past has ended up flat and misshapen.

After thoroughly researching the various methods of casting one's face, comparing the prices of Plaster of Paris at Michael's, Lowe's, Hobby Lobby, and Home Depot (in that order), deciding that I can't afford latex foam and that it was too late in the evening to hit up a dentist for alginate, I ended up buying plaster cloth wrap, this miraculous little package of stuff called 3D Gel, and an assload of Vaseline.

Here's something to keep in mind should you ever try to make a mold of your own face: it is infinitely easier to plaster over your eyes if you have an assistant. Also, be sure to REALLY COAT YOUR EYEBROWS AND EYELASHES WITH VASELINE, as well as any other facial hair that you don't want to (slowly and painfully) rip out. Learn from my mistakes.

The process:

It's difficult to photograph your near-complete mask when your eyes are plastered over. And this is a messy process. Don't wear clothes you like.

The result:



The outside of the cast is not accurate: the nose had to be built up to seal off the nose-holes I left so I could breath while it dried. I also had to strengthen the eye area, as I miscalculated the amount of gauze it would take to cover them the first time, and was totally blind by the time I realized that I should've prepped more. The last picture is of the inside of the mask.

Currently, the cast is filled with the 3D Gel, which is going to take a while to set. As soon as it does, I'll post pictures.

UPDATE: Here's the finished first mold.




For a first attempt, I'm actually pretty pleased. I'm obviously going to need more 3D Gel, though I probably would've had enough to make a nice initial mold had I been more familiar with it; 3D Gel sets a lot faster than I thought it would, and I didn't have time to spread it around the eye area. I'm going to sand away the bits of plaster that clung to the mold, but I think I'm going to have to make another cast; I need it to be smoother, more accurate, with fewer bubbles. Which means, I'm going to need an assistant. On the bright side, next week I'll be serving another tour of baby-sitting, which means I have a ten y.o. slave at my disposal. Mwa ha ha.

.Part Two.
I was chauffeuring my little sister and her friend around today, and Kevin Rudolf/Lil' Wayne came on the radio. Sister and friend, in unison, declared their love for "Let It Rock", and, being the cool older sister that I am, I asked if they wanted me to pump up the volume. Hm... You know, just typing 'pump up the volume' inspires a yen for Christian Slater movies...

Anyway, I asked if they wanted me to turn it up, and sister said,

No, it's okay. I have it on my iPod.

And friend said,

So do I!

And then they both proceded to pop in their earbuds and listen to exactly the same song that was playing on the radio, in complete isolation from one another.

Now, I'm all for mp3 players. When I was traveling a lot, my iPod saved me from countless awkward situations (Picture me, standing on the Richmond platform, waiting for the tube, pointing to my headphones and shaking my head at the visibly deranged gentlemen trying to talk to me, mouthing the words, "I'm sorry, I can't hear you!"... Picture me, crying on a bench in the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport because everything that could possibly go wrong has, effectively ignoring passersby who stop to ask if I need help...) But my sister does this every time we get in the car. When I dropped her off at Skate World last night, she (earbuds in) hopped out of the car and scurried over to her friends (also with earbuds in), where they all stood around in a circle and made half-assed attempts to converse.

-Side note-

Skate World has designated nights wherein the parents of kids attending the elementary schools around town volunteer to chaperone, thus enabling a sort of school sponsored hang out time for the students. Mostly, it's the fifth and sixth graders' excuse to 'flirt' and/or 'fight' without parental observation. They get to pretend to be grown-ups. Disturbingly, the crowd at Skate World on these nights looks exactly like the crowd at The Badlander on Thursday nights, except shorter. What parent lets their 11 y.o. kid dress up like a prostitute to go roller skating? Jesus.

-Resume original rant-

When she doesn't have her iPod plugged directly into her head, it's connected to speakers. When it's neither plugged into her nor the speakers, she's watching t.v. Or a movie. Or playing "Super Mario Galaxy" with the volume turned all the way up. I'm serious; this kid never enjoys silence. She listens to it while 'reading' (a subject she's failing in school), while doing homework (ok, to be honest, reading isn't the only subject she's floundering in: she's pretty much destined to repeat the fifth grade), while we're cooking dinner, while she's brushing her teeth, as she's falling asleep... The kid never just enjoys the sound of silence.

I can't help but feel like this constant stream of sound has to be detrimental to her learning process. Not to mention her social skills. And it's not like she's an anomaly; having spent time with a couple of other kids her age this weekend, I get the impression that a lot of them are perpetually plugged in...

Before someone points out the obvious hypocrisy of my complaint (being that I'm never far from the internet, that I have owned three generations of iPods, and that the copy of "Super Mario Galaxy" she's playing is actually mine), I would like to point out that I enjoy a lot of 'quiet time.' I don't have a radio in my car (which makes for a lot of thinking time while driving). I don't listen to music while I read, or while I write. Most of the time, I have a hard time finding anything I even want to listen to (which is why I've been listening to David Bowie's "Hunky Dory" on repeat for like, three weeks now). Furthermore, when I was 10, iPods didn't exist. I broke Walkmans faster than my parents could scrounge up the cash to replace them. And 'hanging out' meant, for me, sitting around in the clubhouse I built under the avocado tree, working on the 'newspaper' my friends and I were trying to get published (in the spirit of objectivity, I feel compelled to mention that the majority of the material our clubhouse was built from was stolen from construction sites, and the decorations inside the clubhouse were pilfered from a neighbor's house... which brings us to my criminal record. But that's a blog for another day.)

I'm not claiming that I'm more intelligent, or even more socially developed than my sister will turn out to be. I'm just saying: iPods are making the future generations stupid. And that parents need to understand the adverse effect that this constant bombardment of sound is going to have on their kids and actually fucking do something about it.

I once read that the only reason people have children is to prove to their parents that they can raise 'em better. Right now, I think that's probably the only reason I would procreate. Though, this weekend has made me realize that me + a child of my own= bad, bad idea; I am selfish, and kids need to be constantly monitored and/or entertained. And fuck that; I'd rather plaster my face without any Vaseline at all.

Good Gore-ning!

Yeah, I know: punning is not the best way to kick off your Friday morning, but I couldn't help myself.

I had to get up early this morning and take my mom to the airport. On our way down the driveway (which is half a mile long, btw), we noticed "our" hawk (whom I've nicknamed "Stratos") attacking what appeared to be a wiggling pile of horse shit; upon closer inspection, we realized that it was not, in fact, horse shit, but a pheasant, struggling to live. Alas, fate had conspired against the poor bird! Returning from the airport, all that was left of it was a partial carcass and, a few feet away, a pile of feathers.

Because there is something very, very wrong with me, my first instinct was to take pictures. Naturally, I'm now going to post them here. Enjoy.

In case anyone was wondering, Stratos absolutely fucking terrifies me. One of these nights, I'm going to be out smoking a cigarette in the dark, and that evil motherfucker is going to dive for my face and claw my eyeballs out. I know. I know its m.o. I hear the screams of the bunny rabbits in the field as Stratos rips them to shreds with its pointy beak and razor-like talons.

Speaking of rabbits: I saw the biggest f'ing rabbit EVER last week. I thought it was a dog at first. And then I was confused, because I'd never seen a dog's long, floppity ears bounce as it hopped across a field. I figured it out eventually, of course, by which time it was too late to procure a photo-capturing device, or I would show you. For half a second, I considered chasing it--I still fantasize about falling down the rabbit hole, though I'm pretty sure I fell as far as one can go that time Kit and I found the Portals...

In other news, because my parents are out of town for the weekend, I "get" to babysit my ten y.o. sister. Which means that a.) I now have a bunk-mate, as she 'can't' sleep alone and b.) I will probably go see the remake of that Witch Mountain movie. You know: the one with The Rock. Except, in a desperate attempt to be taken seriously as an actor, I think he's going by his given name, Dwayne Somethingorother. Like anyone named "Dwayne" could ever be taken seriously...

The first draft of "House of Doors" is now 40 pages long, but I spent most of the week revising one particular scene. Which bring the total number of pages I'm (mildly) satisfied with up to an astounding 2.

Um... I started a new skin-care regime today. It was designed for Japanese girls; it's basically bleach in a bottle. I'm shooting for Michael Jackson white, sans the concave nose, bizarrely named children, and post-it notes.





I have the most boring existence ever.

You Were All Dead.

Lately, I've been having these dreams wherein I'm smoking mad weed in the post-apocalyptic ruins of major cities that I have visited in real life (Copenhagen, Prague, London, LA), and occasionally in those that I have not (Mumbai, St. Petersburg, New York). It's clear in the dreams that everyone who inhabited those cities is dead. It's also clear that I'm somehow responsible for this, and that am happy about it. And that the pot is being smoked in celebration.

Which is a weird way to celebrate. I guess dream-Dallas is a misanthrope who doesn't get violently nauseous and pass out an hour after smoking pot...

On My Fingers, Please (Left Hand).

I want this:

The Knuckle-comb, from The Kosmos Project, via oneplusinfinity.

Making Do In The New Economy.

In lieu of actually searching for a "real" job, I've been scouring the interwebs for alternative sources of income. Thus far, here're my best options:

Phone Sex Operator

While I seriously doubt that I would be able to do this without laughing my ass off, the pay off would (almost) make it worth it. It pays 22 cents a minute--for the first ten minutes. After that, it doubles. So, theoretically, if you could hold the caller's interest for an hour, it'd be about $24 an hour... And you get a bonus if the caller requests you, so this there is potential for developing a clientele.

The requirements:

You must be 18 years of age or older. Proof of age must be provided.
You must be a resident of the U.S.
You will need a quiet workspace.
You must have a land line with a corded phone.
You must be open to discussing a wide range of topics and fantasies.

I don't have a land-line, so that could also hinder my ability to do this, but other than that, I think I'm well-suited for this shit.

Added Bonus:

I would finally learn the art of dirty talk.

If I Like This, I Might Also Consider: Getting paid to watch porn, or working as a Customer Service representative at an international telemarketing type business.

Or, if I decide I have absolutely no dignity, I could always do this.




Pet Sitter/Dog Walker

This requires very little explanation. I would walk dogs, or take care of dogs (or cats, I guess), while their owners were off skiing in Vail or some shit like that. It was mentioned somewhere that you can make up to $50 a day pet-sitting, but I think, realistically, it would be more like $20.

Why I Would Rock This Job:

It's hella easy.

Why I Would Suck At This Job:

I have very little patience for poorly trained dogs.

If I Like This, I Might Also Consider: Baby-sitting. But no.





Writing For Online Magazine:s

I keep seeing ads calling for contributions for a plethora of different niche internet rags. I think I could probably b.s. well enough to get an article about hunting published over at PlayerPress. More realistically, Examiner.com is looking for people living in the Billings "metro" area, who could write about certain aspects of Billings. I could do that. Easily. And then there's this totally vague and poorly written call for 'articles.'

Requirements:

An opposable thumb and a keyboard. Though, the opposable thumb is kind of optional. I'm sure there are loads of people missing one or both thumbs who can still operate a keyboard.

What These Gigs Would Pay:

Nothing. Or next to it. But I would be able to use anything published in my resume.

Kind Of In The Same Vein (Though Not Really) is this beauty of an employer. Apparently, they charge a nickel sort of $70 to rework your online dating service profile... Hm.

Of Course, There're Always "The Old Stand-Bys":


-Giving blood and/or selling your body as a medical guinea pig.
-Working as a Mystery Shopper or a Video Game Tester.
-After watching CNBC's special, "Marijuana, Inc," my brother and I discussed moving to Mendocino, CA and selling pot for a living.









I have already contacted the person who posted this "job opportunity," and though it kicks ass, I don't think it pays anything...


But really, when it comes right down to it, I just want to be one of those lucky son's of bitches who gets paid to pretend to sit around and work.