Uncharacteristically Goodtimes.

Most days that begin with throwing your alarm clock across the room in a fit of general indifference don't tend to get better with time; but it has to be said today turned out swell. So, like pissing by candlelight and finding yourself transfixed by the surprisingly generous shadow on the bathroom wall let me take a little time just to admire my Friday and, quite honestly, boast...

It began when I appeared at university to be met not only by one of my head mentors, but also praise. A collage piece of graphic fiction that I'd handed over only yesterday had gotten a sudden reaction and been passed onto her (her colleague and her family!) and had been much loved. So much so that I was told to do more. It was a piece I'd thrown together from this week's newspaper clippings about the much reported Japanese shitstorm. It wasn't insensitive, honest, more satirical and more about poking fun at the UK's media. Anyway, I got a lovely ego boost from it. Let me just say first of all that that just does not happen to me very often. So that was nice.

After that I had a really good, strong cup of coffee from the uni canteen. Let me just say first of all that that just does not happen to me very often. So that was nice too.

Next I got some genuinely inspirational networking and business-minded advice from Adrian Mead (writer, director and David Morrissey look-a-like) who was in giving us writers a lecture on just that. He not only managed to keep us all entertained for an entire Friday morning (no mean feat, let me tell you) but also present what could only be described as a "motivational talk" which even included heinous crimes against metaphor such as: "swimming in the sea of me" without sounding like a complete and utter cockrot tool.

Some of that networking advice was put to good use with our second guest lecture. The "genuinely nice bloke" and 2000AD artist for the past twenty five years Colin MacNeil came in for a chat about writer/artist collaborations and brought in some gorgeous artwork from one of his latest runs on Judge Dredd for us to drool over (fear not, Kleenex was on hand so there was no smudging). Afterwards, I put my new handshaking skills into practice and promised to buy him a pint at the next comic-con I happen to ee him at. I'd be a fool not to keep to that. He's certainly a contact I shouldn't ignore.

I assumed that was where todays greatness would end. We'd finish up, I'd head home, probably have a nap, or a wank, or wait until later in the evening so I could then watch the Red Nose Day Doctor Who skit on repeat and then have a wank over the two Amy Ponds that have been promised by the tv mags and online forums and then have a nap...

But there's one more slice of fried gold.

My mentor's comments on the aforementioned collage came as a bit of a surprise. Even after this mornings compliment I didn't expect: "a Chris Morris level of scathing social commentary and satire..." "a stunning piece of work" "awesome" "ridiculously offensive" or, my personal favourite "if this goes online you better be prepared to be burned at the stake. Only, knowing you, you'd probably just use it to light a cigarette."

So I'll get it online as soon as I can. Stay tuned.

Bleugh.

And all of a sudden I find myself starting another blog post with absolutely no idea what it's going to be about...

If I can't use this space for procastination then what can I use it for? It's my blog, and it's not as if anyone else is going to read it. So:

I've only got four weeks before the end of the taught modules of my Masters course, after that I get around four months to work on my first major project: Necrophenia. In these next four weeks I have to churn out a lyrical essay for my Theory and Authorship class, a script for a comic book adaptation of the old murder ballad "Frankie and Johnny" and another graphic script for the prequel to my major project (issue #0 if you will).

Hrrm, got nothing to say for any of these at the moment other than Frankie and Johnny has now become a russian roulette love triangle centred around the misuse of pot and tequila as a chatting up technique, Theory and Authorship may include Statler and Waldorf from the muppets and Necrophenia #0 being a somewhat generic zombie outbreak.

The thing is, I need to get these things out of the way. Not only because without completing these I would not pass the course I have been working hard on since last August, but because I am absolutely desperate to get to work on Necrophenia. I haven't been obsessed with a project like this in a long time and the thought of concentrating on that (and only that) for four months is making me giddy.

The negative, of course, is that I can't get it out of my head enough to get on with the fucking assessments. Oh, circle of cruelty, how I wish you were just a puppy. You would be so much easier to dispose of.

Huh, turns out this is the blog post where I introduce Necrophenia to the world, and all you're getting right now is the name.

Awkward...

Yes, sex can be awkward. It can also be fun, sticky, aggressive, sick, relaxing, enlightening, wrong yet so, so right. But more often than not, it's awkward.

I'm not talking about my own personal bedroom deviations (if I was you would have thrown up by now) rather I am talking about writing sex scenes in fiction. Or, in particular, writing sex scenes in graphic fiction. Maybe there's a secret to it? Maybe it's a skill to be learned and revered, but as far as I can tell there is no way to describe a panel of sexual encounters without sounding a) ridiculously cheesy, or b) downright "readers'-wives".

It was something I attempted this week. While working on an adaptation of the murder ballad "Black Silk Ribbon" for my graphic fiction class (a.k.a - "Homework? Reading Watchmen is not fucking homework it's a privilege?") I had to include two panels of sexy, sexytimes but just couldn't quite pull it off. In the end embarrassment got the better of me and my panel descriptions literally said:

"sexy, sexytimes..."

It was either that or "ruffled hair, ruffled sheets and a nipple caught in the moonlight." HA!

Oh, hello.

December 2008, huh? That was the last time I felt the urge to post on here? Well, let's hope that something has happened since then that's worth writing about...

I can't think of anything right now, but it'll come.

Radioclown

Soup of the day...

Perfectly reasonable.

Soup of the day...

JACKSON 5IVE!

Soup of the day...

Indy.

Soup of the day...

Those bastards.

Soup of the day...

Off his tits on lentil.

The simplest things...

It's been a quiet day off for me, but one that I've thoroughly enjoyed. After heading into town simply to wonder, no shopping agenda whatsoever I spent money on:

!) A very large black americano (the coffee not the slave).

") The cutest edition of the Dharma Bums by Kerouac I ever did see. I had originally started looking at travel guides, which made me think of touring America which then got me thinking about Kerouac which then led me to it. It's a scruffy and new and even has cartoons.

£) Music, in fact is excellent you know so I bought Seasick Steve, Black Lips and the Scratch Perverts Fabriclive album.

The Telectroscope - Steampunk Public Art Installation...

For those of you who aren't into checking up on these sort of things I feel it necessary to point this out to you all. Many because I'm in love with all things steampunk at the moment (ever since I came up with the idea to add a pedal power light with cogs and sprockets added to my spokes on my bicycle) but also because it's the only piece of modern, public-space, interactive sculpture that I've actually fallen for in a while.

The Telectroscope has two stories:

1) Started in the 1880's by the great inventor Alexander St. George, a giant tunnel was constructed beneath the earth's crust to connect New York and London by a series of mirrors. After several accidents the telectroscope was abandoned... until recently when artist Robert St. George discovered these long forgotten plans and finally completed the tunnels construction.

2) Using wireless technology and a bunch of electronical gubbins passer-bys can look through the telectrscope at either end and see live footage from the other end allowing people to communicate (albeit through the medium of whiteboards and sign language) on different sides of the Atlantic. Basically, a public web-conference.

Geeeenius. Just look:

Tada! Links! -

Main site.

Telectroscope Blog.

Video.

Soup of the day...

Godzilla attack!

Muto - Graffiti animation

My my I'm busy today. Two whole blogs in one day (and blogs of such in-deth discussion and analysis that my brain's gonna blow out my assfunnel! I'm sure you'll agree, I'm in serious overdrive).

Anyway, just a little something that I've discovered from 'Blu'. A grafitti artist of excellent calibre that has merged the lines between street art and film. It's an excellent idea and one that I don't think I've ever encountyered before.

MUTO a wall-painted animation by BLU from blu on Vimeo.

Also, check out his website for more from him and stuff etc.

Bad taste...?

Is it just me or are there some serious 9/11 flashbacks involved in this commercial:




Nice commercial and everything (very pretty) but it's even got some old guy taking shelter in a shop while big clouds of foam rumble past the window and down the street outside.

International Food Market...

I'm sat here this afternoon with a cigarette in my hand, laptop sat (rather appropriately) on my lap and a very large, very delicious-looking plastic container sat at my side. It's contents? Around ten whole pounds worth of anchovy and jalapeno stuffed ripe, fresh olives.

Bought yesterday at the first of four of this years Aberdeen International Food Market along with a large bag of excellent (but pricey) pastries, superb (but costly) chocolate coverded raisins, lukewarm (but expensive) paella and a small, lowly potted plant bought for my mum which looks to by clinging desperately to life by it's brown, withered tendrils... But this is not a rant about these over-priced treats. Instead it is to be a rant about the character who sold me the plant.

He may have been French. He certainly had an accent, but where he was actually from I have no idea. What I am certain about is that he was rather creepy, and somewhat desperate to make an almost certain sale. As money was transferred, as the sale was being made and as it was apparent that there was no need for awkward conversation or salesmanship I was asked:

"Why, sir? Why you do this to your face?"

Confused for a second I realised that he was talking about the lipring in my face. Something that has been there for so long that I always forget it's there until it is brought up in conversation.

"Surley sore, no?"

"Eh, no. Not anymore.."

"But why spoil your face?" he continued, starting to get a little weird.

"I, eh, it's so I can tie my face to trucks and pull them down the street."

Now this is obviously not true (although it has been tried and tested. My personal best pulling a desk chair across a room if you're interested) but I thought that this obvious banter may provake a laugh or chuckle long enough for my to escape but, unfortunately he continued unphased with the horrific, and now immortal line:

"Please. Please take off your sunglasses. Please?"

Now feeling more than a little uncomfortable, but with a small collection of waiting customers now more concerned with this man reaction to my peircing I took them off.

"Oh now!" he exclaimed. "See! So pretty!" He clasped his hands to his face to emphasise and I reaplaced my glasses, grabbed my plant and chage and left. Quickly. Feeling not flattered, but a little used.

International Food Market - 4 star.

French-flower sellers who are not only closet homosexuals, but not afraid to flaunt it - 0 stars.

Soup of the day...

Dirty.

Soup of the day...

Michael j fox loves lentil soup.

Things That Annoy AlyMondo #3...

Glaswegian Monks

Glaswegian Monk: "Hi there. Was just wondering if you had a minute?"

Mondo: "Um, well, I've just finished work so..."

GM: "I am part of a group of glaswegian monks and was just wondering if you could spare anything?"

M: "Sorry? I've nothing on me."

GM: "That's ok. We spend our time travelling around cities and we're here this week talking to the happy people of Aberdeen..."

M: "Really? Happy people? Aberdeen?"

GM: "Yes."

M: "Well I don't have any cash on me, so..."

GM: "No no. That's ok..."

M: "So... Do you have like a website or anything?"

GM: "YES!"

M: "So... The address?"

GM: "Oh, eh, I don't remember it but that's ok we were just wondering if you could donate some milk?"

M: "Milk?"

GM: "Yes. Just pop off and buy us some milk. You see we live on your donations."

M: "What!? You want me to go and buy you some milk?"

GM: "Yes."

M: "So YOU are the charity then?"

GM: "Yes. That's how we work."

M: "Are you serious? No! Anyway I don't have any cash."

GM: "Yes, I'm serious. It's all very above board (flashes ID card) and it's ok if you don't have any cash. Do you have a card? You could just nip to Somerfield round the corner and buy some milk."

M: "Well I'm a bit skint myself just now, how about you nip off and donate me a packet of fags?"

GM: "Um, no that's ok. Thanks though. Can I maybe ask you to say something... Gouranga! It means 'Be Happy!"

M: "Get fucked."

AlyMondo - not a big fan of charity.

Soup of the day...

The first installment of how i spend a small part of my mornings- coming up with silly little cartoons for the soup board at work.