Whaa

My first 3D model:



(due to my slacking participation in my first ever 3D modeling class)
- and please forgive the crappy quality, I'm re-sizing in Paint.

Now, it doesn’t look anything like the machinic diatom I originally intended it to—surprise, surprise—so I’ve given it a new title: “Potato That Sat in Water Too Long Time Whaaa”.

P.s. Today is my first day of non-sickness for the week. Yay.

Somebody wants to buy my cow coat!

…and I’m sick again. Started up for the third time this last Sunday and has been stuck with me all week. I’m starting to feel like a 90 year old man on the inside-- and I sound like one on the outside too. I have old-man-with-phenumonia voice. Maybe I just need to gum on some applesauce and wear a pair of short scratchy brown slacks with black socks to make myself feel better.

P.s. I’ve also become very addicted to “Lost” and think that Sun and Jin are the cutest couple ever and that Anna needs to be kicked off the island and that Sayid needs to cut his fingernails and then everyone will live happily ever after.



P.s.s. This is the cutest thing I've seen all day. Granted, I've been sleeping almost all day, but still-- wet kitty.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/hyc/sets/72057594097798552/

My 1st e-bay adventure

http://cgi.ebay.com/Black-White-Faux-Fur-Blazer-by-Crisca-from-Hungary_W0QQitemZ9305525613QQcategoryZ63860QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem

Please world, buy my cow coat.

Hello dear world of possibly only other sick people because those are the only people in their right minds that would be up at 4am,

Collapsing chests suck. And freezing fevers… those suck too.

I wish I saw this sign more often.

A quick lesson:

A lesson in lame-ass upholstery:

I have the most uncomfortable computer chair in all of pained-ass from bad-computer-chair history. It originally had a little black cover on the seat cushion (cushion in this instance = particle board covered with cloth). Then awhile ago I covered it in some gray and black animal print.




And apparently, at that time, went through a phase of unhealthy attachment to my dad’s staple gun.







After all the staples were out I grabbed half a bag of stuffing and mashed it all onto the seat.




Then the fuzzy blue material got wrapped around it all and I had a chance to STAPLE MORE!



The finished product. Squishy.



My ass is happy just thinking about it.

No eyebrows to been seen here, folks!

My mother used to be a pretty famous ballroom dancer. We’ve got all kinds of big boxes of awards and trophies in the attic. Today I use one of those trophies in the bathroom to hold my toothbrush. But, she doesn’t compete anymore. She still dances like crazy—mostly in our kitchen while steeping over our three dogs-- but she doesn’t compete. So, lately she’s been working on getting rid of her old dresses.

And that’s where I come in…

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet, your model.

Your headless model.



Mum’s afraid that if someone is able to see my head they’ll somehow be able to track me down (by how you may ask, well don’t) and… I don’t’ know… kill me? Steal the dress she’s selling on E-bay? Not sure. But I did discover that it’s apparently taboo in her mind to take a picture of me and put it up online where someone can see my face. Because the close-up boob shoots apparently don’t bother her maternal mind, but good lord, if someone saw my eyebrows!

P.s. For a tax update: the IRS sucks and I'm about two steps away from beating myself senseless with a big roll of 1040 forms.