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Miscellaneous - Blog Posts
for someone who doesn't give a fuck, i sure do give a lot of fucks
The way humans will hear "there's a shortage of x" and think "yeah I think it's a good idea to make it disappear faster for everyone. I'll take 1500" is kinda funny tbh
Listening to music while stoned is likely the closest a human can get to ascending to godhood
Lmao I just had an interview and it was all well and good except for the fact that I was going stealth and they want references from my old jobs-
GUESS WHO HAS A HYPERFIXATION FINALLY
IT'S HAZBIN HOTEL
GOD IT'S AMAZING TO FEEL SOMETHING AGAIN
Me when I see my outside cat outside: oh my goodness, you silly, you silly goose what are you doing there you lil munchkin baby
Does anyone else remember the squatty potty commercial bc those had me rolling as a kid
My binder keeping my chest visible so my family doesn't comment on it: :]
My binder keeping my chest visible: :[
Idk why ppl have such a problem with placebos, like if it gives the wanted results idk what the problem is..?
I wish I could have an IV bag or whatever to give me energy and nutrients instead of having to find smth to eat every day
There's a sense of community you get when you grow up in a city where everyone fucking hates living there and wants to leave
I think it's beautiful
I wish my life was so uneventful and easy that fandom shit can qualify as the worst thing I've seen
The trope of a young boy being in a romantic relationship with a grown woman and that being seen as a win or something should get shot in the skull while gargling acid.
Literally every country has fucked up shit about it and Americans are the only ones I've seen who take it as a personal insult when you point out America's.
Wimp behavior .
RWBY — time to put the show out of its misery by freeing it from the remnants of RT / the writers and all of their bad story planning :b
YOU! Are granted the power to suddenly own ONE video game franchise, and to hire the best people who have ever worked on it (and/or anyone else you want in on it).
What video game franchise are you rescuing--er, acquiring?
Colorful Palette just adds the most heart-wrenching dialogue into pjsk before promptly scurrying off as if I'm not rocking back-n-forth sobbing my eyes out rn I was reading the first side story of Kanade's 2* card from the Guiding a Lost Child to What Lies Beyond event and got hit with
It's okay... Because you found me again, Kanade... Huh...? Mafuyu, if you're okay with that person being me, I'll keep finding you as many times as you need...
HUUUUUUHHHH?????????? I'M SORRY HWAT ??? COME AGAIN?????
hot artists don't gatekeep
I've been resource gathering for YEARS so now I am going to share my dragons hoard
Floorplanner. Design and furnish a house for you to use for having a consistent background in your comic or anything! Free, you need an account, easy to use, and you can save multiple houses.
Comparing Heights. Input the heights of characters to see what the different is between them. Great for keeping consistency. Free.
Magma. Draw online with friends in real time. Great for practice or hanging out. Free, paid plan available, account preferred.
Smithsonian Open Access. Loads of free images. Free.
SketchDaily. Lots of pose references, massive library, is set on a timer so you can practice quick figure drawing. Free.
SculptGL. A sculpting tool which I am yet to master, but you should be able to make whatever 3d object you like with it. free.
Pexels. Free stock images. And the search engine is actually pretty good at pulling up what you want.
Figurosity. Great pose references, diverse body types, lots of "how to draw" videos directly on the site, the models are 3d and you can rotate the angle, but you can't make custom poses or edit body proportions. Free, account option, paid plans available.
Line of Action. More drawing references, this one also has a focus on expressions, hands/feet, animals, landscapes. Free.
Animal Photo. You pose a 3d skull model and select an animal species, and they give you a bunch of photo references for that animal at that angle. Super handy. Free.
Height Weight Chart. You ever see an OC listed as having a certain weight but then they look Wildly different than the number suggests? Well here's a site to avoid that! It shows real people at different weights and heights to give you a better idea of what these abstract numbers all look like. Free to use.
My housemate reminded me of a flashbulb memory I have that I really wish I had a photograph of because it would be a magnificent image to inflict on the internet at large with Zero Context, but I'll try to describe it here, and then draw it after dinner.
Image Description:
As seen from about three feet off the ground: Interior, the den of an american suburban house built at the height of the atomic age and still decorated like it years later. There's dark wood paneling about halfway up the walls that offsets the almost neon pink-orange light of late sunset visible through the large window. Every object in the room is highlighted by the last of the sunlight. The only other light in the room is a TV set that was manufactured the same year Howdy Doody debuted on air, now broadcasting PBS Newshour in black and white.
Closest to the viewer, there is a small end table with a Nearly Full Martini glass, and a Half-empty glass Martini Pitcher, indicating that two of the five martinis it holds have been poured out.
Just behind it, an old man sits in a chair that was bright green and yellow when it was new but is now more Grellow. The man is in his mid-sixites, somewhat heavyset, with a full head of snow-white hair and thick glasses. He's wearing a dark brown tweed suit with leather elbow patches, and a white cotton button-up. He's watching the news with a calm and dispassionate demeanor. Tired, but still engrossed with the world's events. He's wearing dark brown penny loafers and garish argyle socks.
Behind him is a couch that is a matched set with the armchair, with the same Grellow chevron pattern, but there is a very large crochet afghan that has been spread out over the back to be decorative and maybe protect the couch from it's current occupant: a 120lb Wolf Hybrid.
She's seated lengthwise on the couch, like she had also been watching PBS Newshour, posed like a sphynx. She's close in wieght to the man, and definitely taller than him if she stands up, with a dark gray agouti coat and a bit of white countershading from the trace of domestic dog in her. She's turned her head to the viewer, bright yellow eyes focused on them, and the fur of her head and neck haloed with the sunset. She is pleased to see the veiwer, which means most of the teeth in her lower jaw are visible in her canine grin. The effect is very menacing if you don't know her.
Clutched rather neatly between her front paws is a second, identical martini glass, only not nearly quite so full as the old man's.
Title: "Oh, I didn't think you'd be back for another hour/GODDAMIT EDWIN"
Fucked up how humanity discovered electricity and radiation and made machines and learned to make airplanes and cured diseases and our takeaway isnt that "Some Magic Is Real And Here's Why", but that magic is fake this is big boy science and it's totally not magical
I sent a letter today - something I haven’t done for years
It’s full of plastic bread clips
It’s for Science
wait how did YOU learn how to walk in heels??
Step one: go to a thrift store and buy a battered pair of knee-high boots in your size. They have a blocky heel, tapered to a perfect one-inch square of stomping force. They have seen better days; they are about to see better nights.
Step two: you are thirteen years old and you have just moved to a house in the woods, built on a lot of untouched forest that slopes steeply to a quiet dark river. There are trails cut, tentatively, into the otherwise dense trees, and you have never moved before. You have never lived in a place that you do not know like you know your own hands, like you know your own stride.
Step three: it is two in the morning on a fall night with a full moon, and there is no screen in your window. It’s easy to open, easy to step out, and with the heels of your boots you don’t even have to stretch for the ground under your feet. It’s soft dirt, turned up by the foundation of the house, and the square blocky boot sinks in deeply as you slide out into the night. Your cat, two bright eyes in the dark and white, flashing teeth, leaps out after you, darker than shadow.
Step four: The trails are bright under the moon, bare dirt where the rest of the land is years of accumulated mast. As you start down the hill from the house the momentum carries you and you lean back into your heels like climber’s spikes, stablizing you on the slick clay slope where the river used to run. By the bottom of the hill you are running too, on your toes, because you’re moving too fast to stop. You can either run or fall, and this is how you learn to never, ever, fall.
Step five: At the riverbank the trail turns into shadow under the trees and there’s nothing--you follow the darker-place-in-darkness of a black cat running ahead of you, trusting her night vision when your own fails you. She leads you through the places where the bushes are so close they whip your face, back up the hill until you pass, breathless, where the dark mirror of your brothers’ bedroom windows are shining with reflected moonlight, and you keep going, leaning into the twists and flinging your legs uphill, your heels never touching dirt at all.
Step six: in front of the house the trails are a maze of flat land, weaving over each other to the road. Your cat picks the junctions, switching back and forth in the longest route between you and asphalt. You’re out of breath but your balance is steadying, your stride shifting, and now you run heel-toe, heel-toe, your weight flying on the balls of your feet. Everything is silver and black, you and the cat and the trees, and you know this place now.
Step seven: When you climb back through the window after your cat, there are mosquitoes everywhere. You take off your boots and climb on the furniture to smash them where they’ve gathered in the highest parts of your bedroom.
You realize the next morning that there are perfect one-inch-square spots of mud on your ceiling.