tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76681494573431865842024-03-13T20:22:24.002-04:00Mary Hart Must Die<a href="http://tvopiate.blogspot.com/search/label/mp3">Music</a> . <a href="http://tvopiate.blogspot.com/search/label/mp4">Video</a> . <a href="http://tvopiate.blogspot.com/search/label/jpg">Images</a> . <a href="http://tvopiate.blogspot.com/search/label/sanity">Sanity</a>royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-63964422501761251192010-09-18T13:58:00.009-04:002010-09-18T15:57:16.517-04:00DIY Street FairI saw two bands at the DIY Street Fair in Ferndale last night. If the <a href="http://diystreetfair.com/">DIY website</a> is to be trusted, the name of the first band was 'Outrageous Cherry.' A particularly suggestive title considering both the drummer and bassist appear to be of fetchingly non-consensual ages.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TJT96_sMoaI/AAAAAAAAAfc/859anQs0fCA/s1600/IMG_2222.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TJT96_sMoaI/AAAAAAAAAfc/859anQs0fCA/s400/IMG_2222.jpg"/></a><br />Once you pop the fun don't stop.<br />(Oh, that's really bad. I actually feel ashamed.)</center><br /><br />Then came 'Goober and the Peas.' I don't know how to feel about this one. They were an entertaining act, and yet...<br /><br /><center><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TJT96DwJmYI/AAAAAAAAAfU/btQhxcTqN1Y/s1600/IMG_2230.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TJT96DwJmYI/AAAAAAAAAfU/btQhxcTqN1Y/s400/IMG_2230.jpg"/></a><br />The band thinks less of the crowd for showing up.</center><br /><br />Afterwards we stopped in at a bar where they didn't serve my kind. Ordering a beer turned out to be too complex a transaction for me to complete without assistance and since no one had an abacus and there was only one copy of Lenin's summary of Hegelian dialectics to go around, I remained thirsty.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TJT950zBWRI/AAAAAAAAAfM/HXAbXV0faak/s1600/IMG_2234.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TJT950zBWRI/AAAAAAAAAfM/HXAbXV0faak/s400/IMG_2234.jpg"/></a><br />Another Goober advertises his wares.</center><br /><br />In conclusion: Someone needs to knock Ferndale down off its high horse. And I'm just the man to do it!royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-68983844159418591372010-09-12T19:58:00.007-04:002010-09-12T20:12:25.339-04:00Flo TVFor those so impossibly, hopelessly, helplessly addicted to the pandering, ignorance, falsehood, egotism, and slow-death of television: Now you can take your killer with you!<br /><br /><center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TI1p4E2Pg6I/AAAAAAAAAfE/RqYyiffyqA0/s1600/ptv_back3_090310.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TI1p4E2Pg6I/AAAAAAAAAfE/RqYyiffyqA0/s400/ptv_back3_090310.jpg"/></a><br />Durrr... I like TV!</center><br /><br />Another 'something' for you to stare vacantly at in the public space while breathing through your mouth and failing to interact with reality. That is when you aren't breaking conversations to stare slack-jawed into your palms, while thumbing a few 'lols,' you fucking twat.<br /><br />Congratulations.royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-59752987371997825622010-09-06T19:44:00.009-04:002010-09-06T20:24:33.311-04:00Touch my MuffinsI expanded my baking pedigree today when I attempted some simple from-scratch muffins. I was only planning to make a loaf of bread, but when I got to the second rising, I thought, "as long as everything's already dirty, why not use this next hour of thumb-twiddling to try something new." Those were my exact thoughts. Verbatim. Note the quotation marks.<br /><br />But I quickly ran aground when I found I had no baking powder. I had baking soda on hand, but no powder. "What's the difference anyway?" I asked the internet. "Well," says the internet, "baking powder is really just baking soda, but with a palette-neutralizing acidic agent added to enable a steady release of the gases that promote rising; usually cream of tartar."<br /><br />"But I don't have any cream of tartar, internet-sama. Would lemon-juice work? That's acidic. I've got that!"<br /><br />"Uh, maybe."<br /><br />So, I substituted 3/4 of a teaspoon of baking soda, added to the dry mix, and 1 1/2 tablespoons of lemon juice, added to the wet mix, in place of the 1 tablespoon of baking powder called for in the recipe. Then, for a filling, I threw in some raisins and brown sugar. It tasted good as a batter anyway. Let's see what we get:<br /><br /><center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TIV9hEfnmcI/AAAAAAAAAe8/QYkETVeb338/s1600/IMG_2179.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TIV9hEfnmcI/AAAAAAAAAe8/QYkETVeb338/s400/IMG_2179.jpg"/></a><br />In the pan.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TIV9gzIJgPI/AAAAAAAAAe0/PqUSQwY3B-g/s1600/IMG_2182.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TIV9gzIJgPI/AAAAAAAAAe0/PqUSQwY3B-g/s400/IMG_2182.jpg"/></a><br />Out of the pan.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TIV9cpIVm2I/AAAAAAAAAes/c_HvYzE1380/s1600/IMG_2183.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TIV9cpIVm2I/AAAAAAAAAes/c_HvYzE1380/s400/IMG_2183.jpg"/></a><br />That golden brown booty.</center><br /><br />So we may have overshot the rising agent a tad. Still, they taste pretty good. At least my pantomime seems to think so!<br /><br /><center><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TIV9cLy4LiI/AAAAAAAAAek/ISOQ8KxRjUU/s1600/IMG_2190.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TIV9cLy4LiI/AAAAAAAAAek/ISOQ8KxRjUU/s400/IMG_2190.jpg"/></a><br />I made pastry!<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TIV9b_qgWtI/AAAAAAAAAec/pY8vyXref2k/s1600/IMG_2195.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TIV9b_qgWtI/AAAAAAAAAec/pY8vyXref2k/s400/IMG_2195.jpg"/></a><br />Was there ever any doubt?</center><br /><br />They could be sweeter, actually. But what do I want for raisins and brown sugar? Anyway, next time we'll go 1/2 tsp baking soda, 1 tbsp lemon juice, and maybe they don't all come out looking like breast implants.<br /><br />But what about the bread?<br /><br /><center><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TIV9bYvLCsI/AAAAAAAAAeU/K3rn-nkGW0I/s1600/IMG_2197.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TIV9bYvLCsI/AAAAAAAAAeU/K3rn-nkGW0I/s400/IMG_2197.jpg"/></a><br />Even my bread looks sexy.</center><br /><br />Best tasting loaf yet! Though I need to work on my shaping method. This rolling it up and tucking it under business gives the ends more lift than the middle.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TIV9bABsFxI/AAAAAAAAAeM/oNAmJyz83mI/s1600/IMG_2200.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TIV9bABsFxI/AAAAAAAAAeM/oNAmJyz83mI/s400/IMG_2200.jpg"/></a><br />That's going straight to my hips.</center>royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-76058056752968696142010-08-31T14:58:00.014-04:002010-09-01T14:13:40.002-04:00Directions of Product (Dollar Store Engrish)Here's a dollar I won't get back:<br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TH1YT2leitI/AAAAAAAAAeE/L_q1PlB1FOo/s1600/IMG_2177.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TH1YT2leitI/AAAAAAAAAeE/L_q1PlB1FOo/s400/IMG_2177.jpg" /></a><br />The front.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TH1YTdJ3tGI/AAAAAAAAAd8/3JU564DnjRY/s1600/IMG_2176.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TH1YTdJ3tGI/AAAAAAAAAd8/3JU564DnjRY/s400/IMG_2176.jpg" /></a><br />The back.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TH1YS3J0oMI/AAAAAAAAAd0/GSxavhd5EQs/s1600/IMG_2175.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/TH1YS3J0oMI/AAAAAAAAAd0/GSxavhd5EQs/s400/IMG_2175.jpg"/></a><br />The kicker.</center><br /><br />For the record - and the search engines - these are "YIN'ER BEST CLEANERS CLEANING SPONGES," and the back of the packaging reads as follows:<br /><br />"<br /><center><b>DIRECTIONS OF PRODUCT</b></center><br /><p style="white-space: pre-wrap"> THE PRODUCT IS HIGH SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY CLEANING TOILET ARTIELES OF INTERNATIONALIZATION. THERE ARE CHARACTERISTIC: DECONTAMINATION IS POWERFUL. NO BRUISE. DON'T BE STAINED WITH GREASE, IT IS LIKED BY HOUSEWIFES OF THE LLNITED STATES OF AMERICA, JAPAN, THE SOVIET UNION, ITALY ALL THE WORLD.<br /><br /> USE: THE PRODUET IS USED TO WIPE ICEBOX, WASHING MACHINE, ALUMINUM PRODUETS, PLASTICS PRODUCTS, PORCELAIN, GLASS WARE, STAINLESS STEEL PRODUCTS, CLEANING IS EASY.<br /><br /> POINTS OF ATTENTION: BE USED TO RINDS OF SURFACE ROUGH WARE, TOILET STRICTLY PROHIBITED.</p><br />"<br /><br />...and I quote. The dollar spent? Totally worth it!royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-73982541674398966742010-08-31T00:11:00.003-04:002010-09-01T14:13:40.003-04:00Simple Neon ArrowIn the course of graphically designing a web page for a new night club that will be opening in Canton, I required an image of a neon sign in the shape of an arrow. After perusing the Google image gallery and finding nothing quite to task I decided to try modeling it in 3d.<br /><br />I found a <a href="http://www.blenderguru.com/create-a-glowing-neon-sign/" target="_blank">very concise tutorial</a>, exactly suited to my level of experience within <a href="http://www.blender.org" target="_blank">Blender</a> and, augmenting it a touch here and there to better meet my mind's eye's beholding, put the effort to bed in under an hour.<br /><br />The result:<br /><br /><center><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/THyDfZe80eI/AAAAAAAAAds/juj4doBxgTo/s1600/neon+arrow.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/THyDfZe80eI/AAAAAAAAAds/juj4doBxgTo/s400/neon+arrow.jpg"/></a><br /></center><br /><br />...Simple but photo-realistic and exactly what I needed. Note that I made the curve 3-dimensional so as to twist the glass tube toward the backing piece. I think that little detail is what sells the image.royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-2462235587772972842010-08-27T13:13:00.007-04:002010-08-27T14:05:33.753-04:00Mosquito in ProfileLate last night I felt a mosquito alight upon my exposed hand - the only portion of skin not hidden beneath quilt or pillow - and work his muzzle deep down into the dermis for a warm draft. And I'm fine with that. Hey, that's what I'm here for! I'm really just a walking, talking, 44oz, blood-flavored Big Gulp, and I accept that fate. I'm not going to spend my whole life begrudging an entire genus of plasma seekers their daily bread, but for the instant of mildest discomfort necessarily associated with the work. Just keep off the face, alright?<br /><br />As I say, I could feel the rustle and occasional pinch of a mosquito making hay atop my right hand as I lay waiting for sleep. But as time wore on the sensation of being bit, usually a solitary event followed by acute stillness, repeated and increased in frequency. Eventually I lifted my head from the pillow and turned to address my hapless nurse who couldn't find the vein, readying a stern lecture on the evils of taking advantage of others' kindnesses. But what do I find here? Two mosquitos! Side by side, working their little noses into the fleshy buffet of my skin in unison; bearing all the aspect of a two-man team alternately humping away at a hand-pumped railroad car.<br /><br />Two o'clock in the morning, or no: this was worth a photograph. Carefully I drew back the quilt and sheets and carefully I lifted my hand from the surface of the bed. And to my drinkers' merits they did not stir as I negotiated my camera.<br /><br />But shooting photos in the dark - and one-handed nonetheless - takes some dialing-in; in the process of which one of my small companions filled his belly to the brim with blood and flitted off in gourmand satisfaction, leaving me but one prima donna to preen in the impromptu shoot.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/THf6kzhRiOI/AAAAAAAAAdU/j_AFpaV7dTg/s1600/IMG_2090.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/THf6kzhRiOI/AAAAAAAAAdU/j_AFpaV7dTg/s400/IMG_2090.jpg"/></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/THf6la4Un-I/AAAAAAAAAdc/ccAhUFv5NyQ/s1600/IMG_2101.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/THf6la4Un-I/AAAAAAAAAdc/ccAhUFv5NyQ/s400/IMG_2101.jpg" /></a><br />See the blood reddening his belly? That's me!</center>royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-7977030511605726032010-08-25T19:21:00.002-04:002010-08-25T19:23:17.059-04:00Vanity<center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/THWllErpv2I/AAAAAAAAAdM/1pXSUBT5qDc/s1600/IMG_2044.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/THWllErpv2I/AAAAAAAAAdM/1pXSUBT5qDc/s400/IMG_2044.jpg"/></a></center><br /><br />I'm going to sell prints of this.royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-29509513365461112252010-08-23T20:40:00.005-04:002010-08-23T21:35:33.137-04:00Bread without a Bread PanI refrained from purchasing a loaf of bread when I went grocery shopping today, despite dire need thereof, resolving instead to conjure some up using my many infernal magics. It was to be my first loaf from scratch and all was coming along well enough until I reached for the bread pan - into which I meant to summon my dark-pastry from the netherworlds below - when I realized that I don't actually own a bread pan.<br /><br />Well, necessity is the inbred cousin of invention... Have at you kitchen cupboards!<br /><br /><center><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/THMaFJxI7dI/AAAAAAAAAcs/RxqM9XwZKOE/s1600/IMG_2033.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/THMaFJxI7dI/AAAAAAAAAcs/RxqM9XwZKOE/s400/IMG_2033.jpg"/></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/THMaFnXkSKI/AAAAAAAAAc0/dEKpI3CtbTE/s1600/IMG_2032.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/THMaFnXkSKI/AAAAAAAAAc0/dEKpI3CtbTE/s400/IMG_2032.jpg" /></a><br />Rise from your grave!</center><br /><br />Matching a square pan with sides of a tolerable height to a longer pan of similar dimensions I achieved full bread pan velocity. I rubbed those sides of each pan in margarine which would make contact with the dough, and continued reciting incantations from my book of shadows. The flames of Hades soon rose to an even 400 degrees and a mere thirty minutes later I was manging on one tasty voodoo sandwich.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/THMaGH2tVPI/AAAAAAAAAc8/k2XIlq41-Yg/s1600/IMG_2035.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/THMaGH2tVPI/AAAAAAAAAc8/k2XIlq41-Yg/s400/IMG_2035.jpg"/></a><br />Fresh from Hell's own Oven!<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/THMaGSu5q0I/AAAAAAAAAdE/cOTd0kMiMQU/s1600/IMG_2038.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/THMaGSu5q0I/AAAAAAAAAdE/cOTd0kMiMQU/s400/IMG_2038.jpg"/></a><br />Cerberus gets the scraps.</center>royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-31622489606381113802010-05-25T16:10:00.009-04:002010-05-25T17:52:35.449-04:00This Day in 1981...By "this day" I mean Sunday before last, and by the trailing ellipsis I mean to say that I was born. Whereas "this day," 2010, I went golfing <i>con mi padre</i>.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_ww42wEQEI/AAAAAAAAAbE/-ONrhf4f7mM/s1600/IMG_1719.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_ww42wEQEI/AAAAAAAAAbE/-ONrhf4f7mM/s400/IMG_1719.jpg" /></a><br />'Old Joe Something was a woodsman and he rowed his boat ashore.'</center><br /><br />After nine holes and 48 strokes at White Lake Oaks I then proceeded immediately to Bay Court Park for 18 holes and strokes-unspecified of <i>disc</i> golf, yet still <i>con mi padre</i>.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_ww5Ap4lPI/AAAAAAAAAbM/e7T9OBoA8Xc/s1600/IMG_1720.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_ww5Ap4lPI/AAAAAAAAAbM/e7T9OBoA8Xc/s400/IMG_1720.jpg" /></a><br />"Everybody get down!"</center><br /><br />As you can surely imagine, after twenty-seven holes and two golf-oriented sporting activities I really needed to eat some Mexican food. "To Mexico Lindo!" <i>...con mi padre y mi madre tambiƩn.</i><br /><br /><center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_ww5rROWII/AAAAAAAAAbU/d5xZa02mwwU/s1600/IMG_1722.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_ww5rROWII/AAAAAAAAAbU/d5xZa02mwwU/s400/IMG_1722.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_ww50GBvQI/AAAAAAAAAbc/5E0Em5n2ouA/s1600/IMG_1724.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_ww50GBvQI/AAAAAAAAAbc/5E0Em5n2ouA/s400/IMG_1724.jpg"/></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_ww6siZp2I/AAAAAAAAAbk/Fdhu5s9gygo/s1600/IMG_1727.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_ww6siZp2I/AAAAAAAAAbk/Fdhu5s9gygo/s400/IMG_1727.jpg"/></a></center><br /><br />Now that I had the whole family assembled we retired to <i>la casa</i> for cake-by-Mom.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_wxq6UQLPI/AAAAAAAAAcM/-PM2ub5k_ro/s1600/IMG_1731.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_wxq6UQLPI/AAAAAAAAAcM/-PM2ub5k_ro/s400/IMG_1731.jpg" /></a><br />Just add homemade whipped cream.</center><br /><br />And you were there, and you were there, and your little dog too.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_wxqmcE-jI/AAAAAAAAAcE/2AXuFG6bUNY/s1600/IMG_1733.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_wxqmcE-jI/AAAAAAAAAcE/2AXuFG6bUNY/s400/IMG_1733.jpg" /></a><br />Andy, the timid.</center><br /><br />Let's open presents! I got a divot repair tool; A crazy prong-ended hand tool whats purpose only my dad knows -- and isn't telling; A deck of cards printed for the website <a href="http://www.omega.com/" target="_blank">Omega.com</a> featuring - instead of naked ladies - ham radio equipment, capacitors, oscilloscopes, multimeters, and other obscure tech; a good hat; And... wait. What's this behind me here?<br /><br /><center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_wxqL64ehI/AAAAAAAAAb8/ZOi-oQ7-6go/s1600/IMG_1734.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_wxqL64ehI/AAAAAAAAAb8/ZOi-oQ7-6go/s400/IMG_1734.jpg" /></a><br />"A brand new car!"<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_wxp7YvvmI/AAAAAAAAAb0/ennUKyiWrs8/s1600/IMG_1735.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_wxp7YvvmI/AAAAAAAAAb0/ennUKyiWrs8/s400/IMG_1735.jpg" /></a><br />No one mention the white Mongoose in the room.</center><br /><br />I recover from the blind-side. Dad goes home. My mom and I have a beer and talk about the good-old days, or the lack thereof, or something. I don't recall.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_wxpgG0IxI/AAAAAAAAAbs/cgTCHCaa9UQ/s1600/IMG_1739.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_wxpgG0IxI/AAAAAAAAAbs/cgTCHCaa9UQ/s400/IMG_1739.jpg" /></a><br /><i>Mi madre con su perro Andy.</i></center><br /><br />Some days later my new license arrives to announce that in four short years I've gone from pudgy, rosy-cheeked stoner, to officer tight-ass, highway patrol.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_wx_TLeMaI/AAAAAAAAAcU/nlJXqsioSBE/s1600/IMG_1768.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S_wx_TLeMaI/AAAAAAAAAcU/nlJXqsioSBE/s400/IMG_1768.jpg"/></a><br />Me thinks, for soothe, the truth lieth here betwixt.</center>royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-91004924471921357892010-04-08T18:02:00.014-04:002010-05-25T17:31:56.526-04:00Easter Weekend - A RetrospectiveSo, okay... So like... Like...<br /><br />On Thursday, dad picks me up, we go to the Big Apple for lunch, or dinner, or something.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cvjsRd5I/AAAAAAAAAaQ/bHrpzQjNgP4/s1600/IMG_1648.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cvjsRd5I/AAAAAAAAAaQ/bHrpzQjNgP4/s400/IMG_1648.jpg" /></a><br />Linner.</center><br /><br />His latkes are over-browned. Somethings always over-browned with him. Then we go disc golfing at Bay Court Park.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cwOmkl-I/AAAAAAAAAaY/y6fAsXLhNvI/s1600/IMG_1649.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cwOmkl-I/AAAAAAAAAaY/y6fAsXLhNvI/s400/IMG_1649.jpg" /></a><br />Put a shirt on, you dirty hippy!</center><br /><br />We drive back to his place in Flat Rock and on a whim he fixes (re-rigs) the yoke on my bike.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cwRODYAI/AAAAAAAAAag/Lk-jPQG5NvQ/s1600/IMG_1650.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cwRODYAI/AAAAAAAAAag/Lk-jPQG5NvQ/s400/IMG_1650.jpg" /></a><br />Egg whites.</center><br /><br />Then he fixes up his own bike and we take a night-time ride with neither helmets nor flashers of any kind.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cw6lRw7I/AAAAAAAAAao/4VIiVKvfJIY/s1600/IMG_1654.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cw6lRw7I/AAAAAAAAAao/4VIiVKvfJIY/s400/IMG_1654.jpg"/></a><br />Safety hazard.</center><br /><br />Somehow we survive, watch movies, fall asleep. Next day he washes and vacuums the Focus.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cbLj2oQI/AAAAAAAAAZo/fOxzfvv5SrY/s1600/IMG_1655.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cbLj2oQI/AAAAAAAAAZo/fOxzfvv5SrY/s400/IMG_1655.jpg" /></a><br />Love of his life.</center><br /><br />We gear up and head out for the links. The golfing begins - the golf-golfing, I mean - at Willow Metropark.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cbaYBbdI/AAAAAAAAAZw/d8TMtXI2aHA/s1600/IMG_1656.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cbaYBbdI/AAAAAAAAAZw/d8TMtXI2aHA/s400/IMG_1656.jpg" /></a><br />Fore. Four! LOOK OUT STUPID!</center><br /><br /><center><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75ccRJEtiI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/qIyMWUgVpxE/s1600/IMG_1657.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75ccRJEtiI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/qIyMWUgVpxE/s400/IMG_1657.jpg" /></a><br />"They're both mine. I like a wide selection."</center><br /><br /><center><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75ccnp_n0I/AAAAAAAAAaA/j-YQHwYSSUg/s1600/IMG_1658.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75ccnp_n0I/AAAAAAAAAaA/j-YQHwYSSUg/s400/IMG_1658.jpg" /></a><br />Dad swings.</center><br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cc559oRI/AAAAAAAAAaI/wQopBiZa9FQ/s1600/IMG_1659.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cc559oRI/AAAAAAAAAaI/wQopBiZa9FQ/s400/IMG_1659.jpg" /></a><br />Son swings.</center><br /><br /><center><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cLOn_SFI/AAAAAAAAAZA/cRN7v1IXDhM/s1600/IMG_1663.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cLOn_SFI/AAAAAAAAAZA/cRN7v1IXDhM/s400/IMG_1663.jpg" /></a><br />"Someone bring me a cart."</center><br /><br />I'm out with a 61, in with a 56. Hang on, math skills required... 117 on a par 71. Best I did was three bogeys. Walking the Willow Park course is not recommended. Eating more than salad before hand is recommended.<br /><br />Go home, sleep. Wake up, golf more!<br /><br /><center><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cLgotv_I/AAAAAAAAAZI/ug_ZolieRIQ/s1600/IMG_1664.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cLgotv_I/AAAAAAAAAZI/ug_ZolieRIQ/s400/IMG_1664.jpg" /></a><br />Well, first get gas.</center><br /><br />Oh and I suppose we'd better eat hardily this time.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cMNyHGQI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/1fN0pNv8Gew/s1600/IMG_1665.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cMNyHGQI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/1fN0pNv8Gew/s400/IMG_1665.jpg" /></a><br />No, I'll take a non-illusory eating establishment, thanks.</center><br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cMh7Oa9I/AAAAAAAAAZY/6xFhYTRONrM/s1600/IMG_1666.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cMh7Oa9I/AAAAAAAAAZY/6xFhYTRONrM/s400/IMG_1666.jpg" /></a><br />Hash-browns were over-browned.</center><br /><br />Hooah! Let's do this thing! Get some! GET SOME! You hear that Lake Erie Metropark? We got your number, baby! Uh! (Hey is it windy out here?)<br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cNA3AdBI/AAAAAAAAAZg/eo8eX9sBXjI/s1600/IMG_1667.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75cNA3AdBI/AAAAAAAAAZg/eo8eX9sBXjI/s400/IMG_1667.jpg" /></a><br />Action-shot!</center><br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75b-FFkscI/AAAAAAAAAYY/LmS2ag4Y-_8/s1600/IMG_1668.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75b-FFkscI/AAAAAAAAAYY/LmS2ag4Y-_8/s400/IMG_1668.jpg" /></a><br />The club house.</center><br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75b-QYrtFI/AAAAAAAAAYg/dRC8geG9J28/s1600/IMG_1673.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75b-QYrtFI/AAAAAAAAAYg/dRC8geG9J28/s400/IMG_1673.jpg" /></a><br />The freakin' wind!</center><br /><br />Turned out to be 30mph gusting wind with intermittent sprinkling. Great day to golf! (<-- facetiousness) The 18th hole was so windy I couldn't stand still in it to hit the ball! Out with 58. In with 59. 117 again! At least I'm consistent.<br /><br />Plus, I picked up a par 3, this time... Hit the 5W off the pad. It sails out nice and straight, sets down on the green thirty feet left of the pin. My first putt tops the hill, rolling down and well passed the cup leaving a ten footer, which I sink the hard way -- in the back door, even. (maybe)<br /><br />Later that night we catch the 6:55p showing of 'How to Train Your Dragon.' Not bad. I'd recommend it.<br /><br />Next day, home for Easter supper.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75b_FWhmrI/AAAAAAAAAYo/To4hexApSHs/s1600/IMG_1674.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75b_FWhmrI/AAAAAAAAAYo/To4hexApSHs/s400/IMG_1674.jpg" /></a><br />Dad and Josh discuss tires, pickup trucks, and how to be Men.</center><br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75b_gjOItI/AAAAAAAAAYw/WZH23B26-18/s1600/IMG_1677.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75b_gjOItI/AAAAAAAAAYw/WZH23B26-18/s400/IMG_1677.jpg" /></a><br />I eat this.</center><br /><br />"Say pa!"<br /><br />"Yes son."<br /><br />"You know what we haven't done in some time?"<br /><br />"Golf?"<br /><br />"Golf."<br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75b_6JJPiI/AAAAAAAAAY4/hnAwtKzQwng/s1600/IMG_1681.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S75b_6JJPiI/AAAAAAAAAY4/hnAwtKzQwng/s400/IMG_1681.jpg" /></a><br />Nope. Still not sick of it.</center><br /><br />After supper, another quick nine at Indian Springs Metropark and I'm in with 54 on a par 35. I was on fire! Sixes for fours all day, one bogey and my first-ever par on a par four. Two on, one up, and one long nail-biter in.<br /><br />My drives are short, but consistent. My 3W is magic. My putting ain't half bad. Who's up for a quick 18?royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-89410301634968938382010-03-09T14:09:00.003-05:002010-03-09T14:20:56.723-05:00Midnight Bloom<center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S5adS9BtD3I/AAAAAAAAAXs/cz3NjA1J5lU/s1600-h/IMG_1557.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S5adS9BtD3I/AAAAAAAAAXs/cz3NjA1J5lU/s400/IMG_1557.jpg"/></a><br />I love the darkness and the blueish palette here.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S5adTJMpvTI/AAAAAAAAAX0/F6Zd4GQHgBU/s1600-h/IMG_1558-crazy.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S5adTJMpvTI/AAAAAAAAAX0/F6Zd4GQHgBU/s400/IMG_1558-crazy.jpg"/></a><br />Trippy man.</center><br /><br />I simply crushed the levels together in <a href="http://www.gimp.org">GIMP</a> for this last one. Thought it might make a nifty desktop background for somebody. Not me, of course. God no! But you, maybe.royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-54227799962040716742010-02-26T00:28:00.008-05:002010-03-06T02:18:30.526-05:00'Alones' by Roy<center>Cover of 'Alones' by Aqua Timez<br /><a href="http://audio.ngfiles.com/314000/314420_Alones.mp3" name="mp3">Download</a></center><br /><br />Am I taking this too far? I don't think so. In fact, I think I'm taking it just far enough. This is the real deal y'all and I ain't kidding. I've got ten hours labor into this one. So you listen good, you!<br /><br />See you Saturday with another version of the same song, suckers!<br /><br /><center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S4didt9_OAI/AAAAAAAAAXg/vY36lAE7ArI/s1600-h/IMG_1521-web.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S4didt9_OAI/AAAAAAAAAXg/vY36lAE7ArI/s400/IMG_1521-web.jpg"/></a><br />It's sort of an inside joke.</center>royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-47593398215448004722010-02-20T14:02:00.003-05:002010-02-21T00:52:32.259-05:00February Bloom<center><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S4AyIcXWadI/AAAAAAAAAXA/7GPh_xDECQA/s1600-h/IMG_1516.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S4AyIcXWadI/AAAAAAAAAXA/7GPh_xDECQA/s400/IMG_1516.jpg"/></a><br /><i>ISO: 100, Exposure: 1/10 sec, Aperture: 4.0</i></center>royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-53717515736058313662010-02-14T18:43:00.006-05:002010-02-15T00:17:33.320-05:00Riven AccomplishedHow many video games <i>require</i> that you take notes? I love this stuff. Today I completed Riven. Here I memorialize the greater portion of my notes - don't cheat! - including: translation of the Rivenese number system (you can extrapolate up to 24), sacred animal notes, submarine path, dome elevation maps, matched fire bead colors, and more! I guarantee I'll be pirating whatever comes next in the Myst library post haste. You've just got to play these games!<br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S3iNvpvkKwI/AAAAAAAAAW4/7OgXwY1NHs4/s1600-h/Riven+notes.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S3iNvpvkKwI/AAAAAAAAAW4/7OgXwY1NHs4/s400/Riven+notes.jpg"/></a><br />Games? Works of art!</center>royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-69776723738649037982010-02-10T20:55:00.008-05:002010-02-15T00:59:46.176-05:00Pangya!In the third round of Kooh's Pangya Festa tournament - versus Cecilia at Blue Moon, I believe - and having no more than six holes to work with, you'll note... I managed to rack up almost 1800 natural pang! (Around 2200 if you count bonus pang.) I know, I know... so young.<br /><br />"How is this feat possible?" you ask? "What unnatural Faustian bond with the dark lord was required to achieve such stunning figures?," you inquire? "What the hell is a 'Kooh' and why does it have a 'Festa' you lost and desperate soul?" you bemoan? <br /><br />First off, I'm talking about 'Super Swing Golf' for the Wii, aka 'Albatross 18,' aka 'Pangya,' aka the most repackaged, remarketed 3d anime-styled video golf game ever released. (Its a short list.) A 'Kooh' is a playable character, and an astoundingly sexualized one for an eleven year old girl. But then again they do grow up so fast... especially when they're eleven year old Asian girls who play golf and captain pirate ships for a living. (Just ask Luffy. He golfs, right?)<br /><br />So, now that you're hip: How did I score 1770 natural pang on Blue Moon, and in only six holes?! By dropping not one, but two - count 'em - two shots in from over 160 yards out. -plunk- The first one was around 200 yards, actually.<br /><br />You should've seen it! No potions or power shots needed, just a keen eye, a steady hand, and a barrel full of luck. (Luck is a skill too... apparently.) I even had a bit of curve on the ball to ease it back against the wind! Yeah, that's right. This wasn't no windless, straight-in sinker. No sir! I was hitting a friggin' 3W off the carpet, bounced the first-cut on my way up and rolled in for an eagle on a par 4 like it weren't no thang. Uh-huh! Detroit what?<br /><br />The second was even more magnificent to watch. Get this, son. I loaded up a power shot, set myself a Tomahawk, adjusted for wind and under-hit to take a little length off; no powerspin required. That ball bursts into flames, goes flying at the pin like a snowball riding a bat out of hell, comes down - catches the beam a foot off the ground and rides it like a well-lubed stripper straight down into the hole. That's right,: I hit a 160y, tomahawk'd, motherfuck'n beam-in, mother-fucker! Albatross! Par 5! 500+ yards! Who run Barter-town?!<br /><br /><center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S3Se8Aq00PI/AAAAAAAAAVE/9aEgaMYhFvw/s1600-h/IMG_1509-better.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S3Se8Aq00PI/AAAAAAAAAVE/9aEgaMYhFvw/s400/IMG_1509-better.jpg"/></a><br />Master Blaster runs Barter-town!</center>royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-74881375422108407012010-02-06T15:54:00.013-05:002010-03-09T14:27:43.144-05:00A Soft White 3D Lightbulb, by way of MystLast weekend I got it in my head to replay the old Cyan Studios game 'Myst.' Myst was epic in its day. It's too hard for me to concisely express all the reasons Myst was such a landmark game, and its not the purpose of this post to try, so I'll simply point to its most distinguishing characteristic: It was pre-rendered.<br /><br />While other game developers and hackers were trying to come up with ever more efficient ways to calculate and render objects live, the creators of Myst went just the opposite way. They put their efforts into creating as "realistic" a 3d environment as they were then apt to, with little concern for rendering engines. Myst heralded the age of click-through 3d environments. Beautifully rendered environments presented primarily as static, pre-rendered images. Depth was added to these environments by splicing pre-rendered animations over-top, making all interaction with the game world into a truly cinematic event.<br /><br />Well, I downloaded Myst and bested it in no more than eight hours. I'd played and completed it once before, mind you, when I was a child. But I was left so hungered for more of this thoughtful, rational, intellectual, and artistic style of play that I immediately sought out another game, 'Riven: The Sequel to Myst.' This I'd never played before. In fact I would discover there were a total of four sequels to Myst of which I'd never been aware. But I begin again to digress.<br /><br />I'm playing Riven now and I have no qualms saying that the quality of the graphics and the 3d designs are up to par with, only where they do not wholly surpass, the games being released today. This from a game produced in 1997! Again, Riven benefits from pre-rendering, where the games I have to compare it to are all live-rendered; but I count it a strike against today's developers that they have chosen to shackle themselves and their artistic abilities to the limits of an live-rendering engine. Not everything has to be first person shooters, you know.<br /><br />In any event I find myself artistically inspired by the visual beauty, the profoundly intellectual and challenging gameplay, and the pre-rendered delivery concept of Myst and its successor Riven. I've started drawing out my own, admittedly derivative, ideas for environments and landscapes. Playing Riven especially, has set my mind to a style of creativity I've not known myself capable of for years. This is the mind of a child at play with toy soldiers or an author whose finest arts are in fiction; in creating complex, subtle, nuanced worlds and characters whose every action and thought has a purpose, unfamiliar but logical and easily understood.<br /><br />I've found myself penciling out ideas for structures: elevated huts in floodlands that solve the inconveniences of seasonal flooding in the most simple, droll, and subtle ways; Floating towers whose very structure mimics the cruelties of the class-based economy; Flat desert landscapes speckled with pyramid-styled homes hewn of rough-stone, grouped together into tiny townships interspaced between huge, cylindrical depressions in the earth where industrial structures, pipelines and catwalks, glint hateful scowls toward the land they occupy in the noon-time sun.<br /><br />These ideas are mainly far beyond my abilities to recreate in 3d, or at least beyond my sustainable interest in doing so. Nonetheless one of them seems momentarily manageable and sufficiently curious, and I've the will to try.<br /><br />Last night, as a sort of precursor to gauge my waning skills I chose a simple object from around the house to model with an eye toward photo-realism. Well, more like semi-photo-realism. Anyway, I knew how good I wanted it to look and today I finished what started last night, meeting my own criterion for completion of the model and refreshing my basic knowledge of Blender, the 3d suite I'm modeling with.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S23kCnWlB_I/AAAAAAAAAUs/gz6LUsbFOfM/s1600-h/lightbulb-soft-white.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S23kCnWlB_I/AAAAAAAAAUs/gz6LUsbFOfM/s400/lightbulb-soft-white.jpg" /></a><br />Soft white lightbulb.</center><br /><br />[<b>Update:</b> Re-rendered under much more thoughtful and appropriate lighting conditions, and sans the ugly textured plane.]<br /><br /><center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S25UfGE6I4I/AAAAAAAAAU0/ew00pOcUjLQ/s1600-h/lightbulb-soft-white.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S25UfGE6I4I/AAAAAAAAAU0/ew00pOcUjLQ/s400/lightbulb-soft-white.jpg"/></a><br />A little light goes a long way.</center><br /><br />Now onto marshland tree-huts with elevated docks and spiral staircases and canoes on ziplines...royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-26184774646489952132010-02-04T15:21:00.005-05:002010-02-11T19:35:37.211-05:00Hair Loss<center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S3SiInGW8jI/AAAAAAAAAWw/ePvweDKQ8sQ/s1600-h/IMG_1476.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S3SiInGW8jI/AAAAAAAAAWw/ePvweDKQ8sQ/s400/IMG_1476.jpg"/></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S3SiICZgHEI/AAAAAAAAAWo/Qwhip79e8Ck/s1600-h/IMG_1484.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S3SiICZgHEI/AAAAAAAAAWo/Qwhip79e8Ck/s400/IMG_1484.jpg"/></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S3SiHzP8SZI/AAAAAAAAAWg/YGSEpKQrXlE/s1600-h/IMG_1496.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S3SiHzP8SZI/AAAAAAAAAWg/YGSEpKQrXlE/s400/IMG_1496.jpg"/></a><br /></center>royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-27123341623829123952010-01-30T10:51:00.013-05:002010-05-25T17:33:17.484-04:00Photo Montage<center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2Rbzg2I9QI/AAAAAAAAARs/dmUOAfa-RB4/s1600-h/IMG_0959.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2Rbzg2I9QI/AAAAAAAAARs/dmUOAfa-RB4/s400/IMG_0959.jpg"/></a></center><br />A motel we did not stay at on the way to Florida, whose signage met the perfect shade of dusk.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2Rb0PT97xI/AAAAAAAAAR0/yr-CKNDp_18/s1600-h/IMG_0977.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2Rb0PT97xI/AAAAAAAAAR0/yr-CKNDp_18/s400/IMG_0977.jpg" /></a></center><br />Ripley's Aquarium of the Smokies in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, as testifies my skullcap, purchased thereat.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2Rb0Wc_AZI/AAAAAAAAAR8/qc7L_n06oDI/s1600-h/IMG_1011.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2Rb0Wc_AZI/AAAAAAAAAR8/qc7L_n06oDI/s400/IMG_1011.jpg" /></a></center><br />Where can that fish be? It is a most elusive fish. And it went wherever I did go. Oh fishy, fishy, fishy fish. A fish, a fish, a fish, a fishy-o. Oh fishy, fishy, fishy fish, that went wherever I did go.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2Rb03FIbzI/AAAAAAAAASE/orkVH8xHsCg/s1600-h/IMG_1070_3.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2Rb03FIbzI/AAAAAAAAASE/orkVH8xHsCg/s400/IMG_1070_3.jpg" /></a></center><br />Father and sister, under the sea, in an octopus' garden, in the shade.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2Rb1an-aJI/AAAAAAAAASM/7HHhXvECBM4/s1600-h/IMG_1083_noresize.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2Rb1an-aJI/AAAAAAAAASM/7HHhXvECBM4/s400/IMG_1083_noresize.jpg"/></a></center><br />The look on sister Emily's face is so purely human; so between breaths; between trying and not; between caring and not. This is the face of Maya the earth mother, whose joy is as much in creation as it is in destruction. Who smiles and gives birth; who smiles and strangles her newborn child to death. This is the face of nothing and everything. And the fish are pretty too.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2RhKYZ0laI/AAAAAAAAATs/eAZTsNz28cg/s1600-h/IMG_1154.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2RhKYZ0laI/AAAAAAAAATs/eAZTsNz28cg/s400/IMG_1154.jpg" /></a></center><br />And then Grandma and I hung the Christmas lights.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2RhJ2Gqx5I/AAAAAAAAATk/kBKfTGONL-Q/s1600-h/IMG_1166.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2RhJ2Gqx5I/AAAAAAAAATk/kBKfTGONL-Q/s400/IMG_1166.jpg" /></a></center><br />Buster, angered by the existence of anything larger than a bowl-sized body of water, fought a battle with the pool, and to my surprise smelled little like a wet dog should.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2Rb_cDIT8I/AAAAAAAAASU/m_1rjMGMloU/s1600-h/IMG_1171.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2Rb_cDIT8I/AAAAAAAAASU/m_1rjMGMloU/s400/IMG_1171.jpg" /></a></center><br />Victor's Thanksgiving table setting, pre-carnage.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2RhJorUHuI/AAAAAAAAATc/hEY4WtrBztE/s1600-h/IMG_1182.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2RhJorUHuI/AAAAAAAAATc/hEY4WtrBztE/s400/IMG_1182.jpg"/></a></center><br />Carnage.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2Rb_3OP3gI/AAAAAAAAASc/QeQ7DK27dws/s1600-h/IMG_1370.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2Rb_3OP3gI/AAAAAAAAASc/QeQ7DK27dws/s400/IMG_1370.jpg"/></a></center><br />Back in Michigan the cat gets a Christmas gift; proceeds to swat at the mouse on the stick for three consecutive hours, falls asleep next to it, wakes up and renews pursuit.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2RcAXtI4xI/AAAAAAAAASk/kGIJOBHaZtE/s1600-h/IMG_1380.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2RcAXtI4xI/AAAAAAAAASk/kGIJOBHaZtE/s400/IMG_1380.jpg"/></a></center><br />Christmas day at cousin Jeremy's. Three extended branches of the family tree pile gifts beneath the pine and try to tolerate each others' existence for a few hours. They meet with an unlikely success!<br /><br /><center><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2RcAuVV2SI/AAAAAAAAASs/gY3ImNkUiOQ/s1600-h/IMG_1411.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2RcAuVV2SI/AAAAAAAAASs/gY3ImNkUiOQ/s400/IMG_1411.jpg"/></a></center><br />Be the ball.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2RcA8xHnNI/AAAAAAAAAS0/EjHKnqVLDyM/s1600-h/IMG_1435.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2RcA8xHnNI/AAAAAAAAAS0/EjHKnqVLDyM/s400/IMG_1435.jpg"/></a></center><br />I order a cheap electronic drum kit. It comes broken. I tell customer support where they can stick it. They overnight me a new one.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2RcrylVVtI/AAAAAAAAAS8/8utnge-AFy0/s1600-h/IMG_1436.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2RcrylVVtI/AAAAAAAAAS8/8utnge-AFy0/s400/IMG_1436.jpg"/></a></center><br />The new one.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2Rcsi_rM3I/AAAAAAAAATM/Fy8Q3vcWhh0/s1600-h/IMG_1469.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2Rcsi_rM3I/AAAAAAAAATM/Fy8Q3vcWhh0/s400/IMG_1469.jpg"/></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2RcsApnFXI/AAAAAAAAATE/Pzch6W0crY8/s1600-h/IMG_1468.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2RcsApnFXI/AAAAAAAAATE/Pzch6W0crY8/s400/IMG_1468.jpg"/></a></center><br />An early morning flower blooms one day as I'm preparing for work.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2Rcs54eA3I/AAAAAAAAATU/sTS7Yd2vNk0/s1600-h/IMG_1471.jpg"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/S2Rcs54eA3I/AAAAAAAAATU/sTS7Yd2vNk0/s400/IMG_1471.jpg"/></a></center><br />This very morning all my suspicions are at last validated. I <i>am</i> being stalked by some hairy-palmed, peeping-tom of a rabbit!<br /><br />...Even 'Rocky' had a montage.royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-17787724196542271952009-12-20T21:36:00.017-05:002009-12-20T22:55:25.886-05:00Parkour Training - Day 2So I'm a few years late to the party... I showed, didn't I?<br /><br />'Parkour' or 'Free Running' is that crazy stuff those kids on the news get killed doing on rooftops. No, wait, that's crack. Parkour is moving through your environment with precision, strength, flourish, and art. Imagine, for example, you come upon some high fencing in your path. Do you:<br /><br />A.) Walk around it.<br />B.) Climb over it.<br />C.) Run up the side of it, punch from the top, hit the ground, roll out, and come up running like Neo, and shit!<br /><br />If you answered 'D' please review the available options.<br /><br />Free running seems to involve finding the upper potential of movement; coming to an understanding of your physical capabilities as a biped; and putting body momentum to your ultimate use and enjoyment. All this appeals to me. As does the aspect of cutting new, unseen paths through the otherwise rigidly defined world at large. Tic tac'ing walls, Kong vaulting embankments; sprinting over rooftops... Aye! It's the sailor's life for me!<br /><br />Then there's the exercise benefits. I merely started toying with some of the basics yesterday and I am sorer today - deep down muscle-sore - than I've been in a long, long time. I thought I'd been using most of the same muscles Free Running called for in my ritual exercise routine, but I do believe we've found a good dozen or so that were dozing on the job. I assure you they sleep no more! I am beat, bruised, and battered like you don't even know. And you can go right ahead and interpret that statement literally, an' it please you!<br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/Sy7n7ZVrbNI/AAAAAAAAAQA/TtTOxiaEHws/s1600-h/IMG_1321.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/Sy7n7ZVrbNI/AAAAAAAAAQA/TtTOxiaEHws/s400/IMG_1321.jpg"/></a><br />"Hairy back incoming, sir."</center><br />I haven't had a real, honest to god, yellow-brown, bruise in years. I have to say I'm quite proud of it. I earned the two large welts seen here practicing some simple rolls. Yes, basic tumbling. I haven't quite found the sweet spot that will keep the horns of my hips from catching the floor yet, and what you see here is the result. Funny I don't recall this five-point, shoulder-blade, hip-horn, spinal-column bruising pattern from my childhood -- wherein I'm sure I must've performed the bulk of my lifetime's tumbling maneuvers. Oh to be made of mostly cartilage just once more!<br /><br />It being winter and all, I seem to have picked a bad time to become enamored with a running sport, but such is my way: the hard, desperate, bleak, soul-sick, self-deprived way. That's what makes Roy, Roi. (Or vice versa) But enough of this! Let them eat...<br /><br /><center><b>Beefcake!</b><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/Sy7n7r4z3zI/AAAAAAAAAQI/G0Gvsj0g9Rk/s1600-h/IMG_1346.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/Sy7n7r4z3zI/AAAAAAAAAQI/G0Gvsj0g9Rk/s400/IMG_1346.jpg"/></a><br />Product shown does not represent actual item.</center>royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-56720958060060154602009-12-10T00:40:00.008-05:002009-12-10T00:59:05.192-05:00Fly on NapkinAlternately titled: Kindness and Death.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/SyCKuSFjEoI/AAAAAAAAAPk/T0G6SlVtyf4/s1600-h/IMG_1265.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/SyCKuSFjEoI/AAAAAAAAAPk/T0G6SlVtyf4/s400/IMG_1265.jpg"/></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/SyCKulk0nBI/AAAAAAAAAPs/npsJYgHZs7w/s1600-h/IMG_1266.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/SyCKulk0nBI/AAAAAAAAAPs/npsJYgHZs7w/s400/IMG_1266.jpg"/></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/SyCKvNJ_1UI/AAAAAAAAAP0/mwWqXHjS2Nc/s1600-h/IMG_1260.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/SyCKvNJ_1UI/AAAAAAAAAP0/mwWqXHjS2Nc/s400/IMG_1260.jpg"/></a></center><br /><br />Not to ruin the illusion but this guy was still alive, last I saw of him. He was either injured or ghastly cold when I got hold of him; not moving too quick, nor at all venturing to take up his namesake and fly. He kept tripping on things and rolling onto his back. I'd offer him the edge of the napkin to grab onto, whereupon he would right himself, crawl onto the napkin, and immediately turn his back to the camera -- the thankless little fuck.royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-66672723181471278282009-12-08T15:59:00.005-05:002009-12-08T16:07:13.735-05:00FloraThis Christmas is not faring well, so says the lining of my stomach; so says the tossing, wearied, sleepless nights. The money goes out and does not come in. My recent Florida vacation adventures cost me half a month's pay and resulted in little of the vacation-y goodness I'd hoped. Now comes Christmas to add insult to financial injury.<br /><br />Last Christmas went so well, I recall. I had such good gift ideas, and felt so fiscally unhindered at the time. I stumbled onto coupons and was able to give more than I'd hoped. It all came off so gloriously.<br /><br />This year it's all a flop. I haven't but the one good gift idea, and it's for my father, who - as always - is calling off Christmas this year. He'll get his nonetheless.<br /><br />I've found a series of heartless, dispassionate gifts to fill the place of the good ones I lack and my Christmas is now typified by anxiety and discontent. I've had one good gift brainstorm and found that even this rare, good idea is out to get me. It's a damned expensive gift to give and if I give it I can't bring myself to give much more. This necessarily places a great weight and importance on the gift and if it is not up to snuff I might just as well count all my giving-efforts worthless. There is further, a dread possibility that this gift would need returning, and the only place I can find to buy it is Amazon.com, and it's heavy as all hell, so the cost of shipping it back adds one more barb to the wire flossing at my ear canals lately.<br /><br />Winter itself is an expense. I'm forced to drive everywhere now, so come the cost of gas. And winter entertainment is a bit more expensive than the other kind. The outdoors turn inhospitable and barren leaving men to amuse themselves indoors where the luxury of walls and heat take on a premium. I'll soon have need of coats and boots and such that I have somehow failed to retain from winters passed. All must be bought. Each has its cost.<br /><br />And all this want of money has brought me to the sharp, deep precipice that is my current income. I once made twice what I make now, doing the same work, at the same location, putting in the same hours. But I came and left and came and left, and upon my last return times were bad and my services could nolonger be afforded at the going rate. Spiteful of money, never much of a capitalist anyway, I was happy to accept a pay cut while our business waned. And there I have remained.<br /><br />But times aren't bad now. Times haven't been bad for a while, in fact. Oh, maybe for others; maybe for the economy in general. But as far as I can see our little shop has been pounding away with just as much business as we've ever had, and for quite some time now. Meanwhile my pay has not raised; my income has not returned. And though my worth is often noted and my labors very well appreciated, this appreciation has not extended itself monetarily, but only at the lip. My labor is billed at $80 per hour and yet I see naught but pittance of that, even as business booms. Five years exemplary service to the same employer: and my reward is poverty-level income. If I worked for a corporation this kind of thing would be expected, but I work for a friend, so it's an insult.<br /><br />All this and more has been weighing on my mind and resting like a rock in my stomach. The gifts and deadlines of the season, paired with my regular obligations, tied to the one-time loss of a misfit vacation, bound to the rising costs of the season, matched with my unrewarded labor in the form of a flat income... And this not to mention the physiological effects of sunless, gray skies, lack of exercise, and a persistent chill that haunts me indoors and out. Well, I'm depressed, anxiety stricken, and my mind is taking every chance it has to redouble the weight of my woes. Even my dreams are starting to attack me.<br /><br />So I've decided that it isn't a coincidence, but a meaningful, and charitable act performed in the greatest, and most magnanimous spirit of sympathy, that the potted tree on the other side of the room - that sits outdoors all spring and summer, basking in the warmth and sunlight, but never flowering, has decided -- yes, chosen this very day and moment to cast open a single flower as wide and as beautiful as any, for my soft consideration and health of mind. It is its gift to me. That only I had one as good to give to it or any.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/Sx6nNe8_m4I/AAAAAAAAANU/1z5t3Ci1Q8E/s1600-h/IMG_1245.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/Sx6nNe8_m4I/AAAAAAAAANU/1z5t3Ci1Q8E/s400/IMG_1245.jpg"/></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/Sx6mvbKg-JI/AAAAAAAAANE/TeZm1LWsBas/s1600-h/IMG_1241.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/Sx6mvbKg-JI/AAAAAAAAANE/TeZm1LWsBas/s400/IMG_1241.jpg"/></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/Sx6mvL95iKI/AAAAAAAAAM8/WPtcIQx3XpU/s1600-h/IMG_1238.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/Sx6mvL95iKI/AAAAAAAAAM8/WPtcIQx3XpU/s400/IMG_1238.jpg"/></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/Sx6mvg5_84I/AAAAAAAAANM/w_zfQB-yDHY/s1600-h/IMG_1250.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/Sx6mvg5_84I/AAAAAAAAANM/w_zfQB-yDHY/s400/IMG_1250.jpg"/></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/Sx66wQnJr9I/AAAAAAAAANc/IVffPByrV-g/s1600-h/IMG_1258.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/Sx66wQnJr9I/AAAAAAAAANc/IVffPByrV-g/s400/IMG_1258.jpg"/></a><br /></center>royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-30255956499843105202009-12-08T15:47:00.006-05:002009-12-08T22:43:18.546-05:00FaunaGrandma made some experimental muffins to go with dinner the other day. They were really heavy and a shade too sweet to serve with dinner. I liked them anyway. She didn't. So out they go to feed the squirrels. And who come 'long to meat, instead of squirrels?<br /><br /><center><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/Sx69U8vdknI/AAAAAAAAAOw/eHUctJY6-3g/s1600-h/IMG_1211.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/Sx69U8vdknI/AAAAAAAAAOw/eHUctJY6-3g/s400/IMG_1211.jpg"/></a><br />Hungry-Hungry Possum.<br /><br /><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_spveOzfmK28/Sx6munElrLI/AAAAAAAAAM0/5uf6hcMWqh8/s1600-h/IMG_1216.jpg"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_spveOzfmK28/Sx6munElrLI/AAAAAAAAAM0/5uf6hcMWqh8/s400/IMG_1216.jpg" /></a><br />My best shot, after major enhancement.<br /></center>royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-73840053448740229002009-10-31T19:42:00.005-04:002009-10-31T20:03:24.171-04:00Roy vs Halloween - Halloween WinsThis will be the second in three Halloweens that I've gotten all dressed up and spent the night sitting at home. At least this time it's by choice. I thought I had something going here with the pumpkin carving and the mask. I've been making a papier mache mask for the last two weeks, when I had time, in hopes of pulling out some sort of crowd stopper this year. But two weeks spare time hasn't been nearly enough to craft anything worth putting on and the mask sits entirely unfinished.<br /><br />Tomorrow I'm set to help my dad move the last of his big furniture into a new apartment. So the anticipated early morning heavy lifting ain't exactly encouraging me to get out and get rowdy tonight. It's mostly mood though. Call me Boll Weevil, I just don't feel up to it. I might manage some cheap-ass pizza and a rented movie, but a full-on human gathering sounds to be more burden than anything else right now.<br /><br />Anyway, here's what I might've looked like had I attended your gathering. I did not.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/SuzPdAKonlI/AAAAAAAAAMk/8_l3LbWaYhM/s1600-h/IMG_0750-web.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/SuzPdAKonlI/AAAAAAAAAMk/8_l3LbWaYhM/s400/IMG_0750-web.jpg"/></a><br />Honey, you can't afford me.</center>royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-75052610720341291392009-10-26T00:10:00.005-04:002009-10-31T20:02:22.660-04:00The Pumpkineer<center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/SuUhlU9eqdI/AAAAAAAAAMM/VhjXkvkqu1Y/s1600-h/IMG_0722.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/SuUhlU9eqdI/AAAAAAAAAMM/VhjXkvkqu1Y/s400/IMG_0722.jpg"/></a><br />Pumpkin of Doom</center><br />Maw and I caught us a twenty-two pounder today. Boy, I tell you, I widdled him something fierce, too. Sure enough'll last him, I reckon! Chaw!<br /><br /><center><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/SuUhlmtFZcI/AAAAAAAAAMU/RlmJGUjiaMg/s1600-h/IMG_0727.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/SuUhlmtFZcI/AAAAAAAAAMU/RlmJGUjiaMg/s400/IMG_0727.jpg"/></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/SuUhlzRrp1I/AAAAAAAAAMc/htN5eroDr3c/s1600-h/IMG_0729.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/SuUhlzRrp1I/AAAAAAAAAMc/htN5eroDr3c/s400/IMG_0729.jpg"/></a><br />One love.</center>royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7668149457343186584.post-22201767038862694492009-09-21T20:15:00.012-04:002009-12-20T14:13:24.418-05:00Ant vs. Spider - Spider WinsI was heading outside to film my golf swing when I noticed a congregation of crawlies on the screen door. A trio of ants - one grounded, two with wings - and a deuce of spiders that included our old friend <a href="/2009/09/spider-hunter.html">Spider-Hunter</a>! He's gotten even bigger, by the way.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/SrgXXPMHa9I/AAAAAAAAALw/GyBW4NL5t90/s1600-h/IMG_0590.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/SrgXXPMHa9I/AAAAAAAAALw/GyBW4NL5t90/s400/IMG_0590.jpg"/></a><br />You can see his Armpit Hair!</center><br />I didn't get any passable shots of Spider-Hunter this time, but made great labors trying to take just one good shot of his counterpart, what had caught itself one of those flying ants I mentioned and held it in a death-grip. Despite three or four dozen snaps I just didn't have the combination of light and angle I needed to get a decent shot. This one will have to do:<br /><br /><center><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/SrgXXtotdAI/AAAAAAAAAMA/Ol_7LcHAZhs/s1600-h/IMG_0617.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_spveOzfmK28/SrgXXtotdAI/AAAAAAAAAMA/Ol_7LcHAZhs/s400/IMG_0617.jpg"/></a><br />That's just Creepy.</center><br />Next time: My golf swing at 60fps.royhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03031593859843574084noreply@blogger.com0