There is something about shopping in National Bookstore that makes me feel like a kid with generous godparents during Christmas. Okay, the book selections are nothing to be excited about, but this Philippine institution pwns PowerBooks, Fully Booked and their pretentious ilk because of one amazing thing: the school supplies. The art supplies, in particular. A smorgasbord of graphite and pigment and parchment and ink. I got sidetracked whilst shopping for S’s poster paints and brushes by the varied array of pencils. Yes, for the uninitiated, I collect pencils, mostly Faber Castell and Staedtler ones, with the clearly marked grades ranging from F, B, H. I like pretending to be an artist; an artist has to have various instruments to be able to depict a range of images and control: light yet hard points for preliminary sketching, smudgy dark soft lead for shading, fine tips for final, precise detailing.
photos
Living Off The Grid
Basyang caught us unawares.
It’s not a weather stone, it’s a petrological barometer
The weather reports lulled me into a false sense of safety: the latest forecasts detailed a storm track traversing the oft-battered provinces of Northeast Luzon. Being the dormant weather geek that I am, I was confident that my multiple sources of information were reliable. Never mind the pitiable monitoring capabilities of PAGASA, I have data from better-equipped agencies like the JTWC. It pays to know if the storm of the century is churning up the Pacific before you deploy one of your expensive-enough-to-feed-an-African-country aircraft carriers. You know, to kill enemies of democracy. In this regard the US Military never fucking fails!
code snippet
Too drawn thin to write anything of note. Was thinking about scouring the web for some inspirational art to copy. Friend requested that I draw a Magic the Gathering card for his birthday. Need to whip these drawing skills into shape. Sadly, the flu has worn me down; the initial burst of energy, anger and caffeine that sustained me during the day has faded.
Burnout.
Got to thinking about posting code snippets around here. Who knows, I might find them useful someday. Maybe even institute a humble code project a week shindig. Preferably with a language or framework that I’m interested in. Like fun with jQuery. Because jQuery is the bees’ knees.
Roundup (NSFW)
Because good ideas blurted out in 140-chars need to be rehashed and expanded.
By now, anybody with a functioning cortex should be able to deduce that I talk about sex, a lot. By extrapolation, I most probably tweet about it, too. During one of my online dildo-shopping jaunts I discovered that most of these pleasure implements were made out of glass. Now, the thought of using something made of such fragile material evokes horrifying images of shredded vaginal flesh. The proprietors try to reassure me with soothing text about how Lucite, acrylic, art glass and Pyrex are “made to withstand temperature extremes and mild bumps”.
Even Metal Girls Dream Of Sappy Weddings
Or, another extended brainfart that was too convoluted and intense to fit in 140 characters.
It is 2300h on a Sunday, and tomorrow is Monday, and I should sleep before the stroke of midnight if I want to get to the bus on time tomorrow. I was left last Friday, a cruel, crushing blow, and I was forced to endure the acrimony that is SLEX on a humid July morning inside a rickety jeep. Also, tomorrow I hike back to the zombie-fied world of work drones, and lack of sleep decreases productivity.
Mental Detritus 