Wednesday, November 16

Before And After

Broken blot transforms in to:

Dip trip, flip fantasia!



So, with a few amateur clicks in Photoshop, I made (unintentionally) an inkblot that looks, to me, like Jafar from Disney's Alladin staring in to a crystal ball that he is clutching.  Neato!  Or one of those Plague Doctors.

Sorry for my absence, I have been fooling around with another project, which I won't jinx by mentioning here at this time.

Thursday, November 3

WTSP: It's All The Way Up

My apologies to Caio Vinicius (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Klw3_x7PHq0), I lifted his art test/project with ink blots to use for my "brainwashing video."

The pickings were slim this Sunday. I have to try to make/get time to do this when there are more random strangers on. As I get a little more accustomed to the applications I am using the "Uh...uh"s will stop.


rant: I understand that everyone expects shlongs galore on Omegle or Chatoroulette these days, but the fact that they think someone would go through THAT MUCH trouble just to flash his happysacks... Well, as one chatter (female, I think I should note) put it: "It's really quite primal. They want to stand out so females pay attention to them. I saw a guy that had an outfit for his cock and a make-shift marionette dancer rubbing on him." Hmm. Does that mean I have competition?

The penises I perpetrate are only in the minds of the person observing, but if there are masturbators putting on penis puppetry then I need to step up my game to keep people's attention.

All of those thoughts raise another question: If there is nothing but Johnny McCockrockers banging their collective penis heads to the beat of self-pleasure, then what are these sparingly few honest-I-just-want-some-random-chat chatters doing there? I have come to my own conclusion: my little Sunday forays on Omegle and Chatroulette have shown me that there are regular, non-pervy, interesting and intelligent people looking for something random in their spare time. Unfortunately they are the scattered casualties, like some horrible "cruise liner disaster metaphor" that I didn't really think out, clinging to floating debris in a sea of masturbators.

I really hope they hear me when I say, "I appreciate your time."