i don’t know what anyone else’s excuse is for having nothing to say lately. but me: i’ve been making type, including the cutest damned punctuation i’ve ever made.
below, meet my tilde, hungarian umlaut, and asterisk. ain’t they sweet?
when you are sad, i will get you drunk and help you plot revenge against the sorry bastard who made you sad. when you are blue, i’ll try to dislodge whatever is choking you. when you smile, i’ll know you finally got laid. when you are scared, i will rag you about it every chance I get. when you are worried, i will tell you horrible stories about how much worse it could be and to quit whining. when you are confused, i will use little words to explain it to your dumb ass. when you are sick, stay away from me until you’re well again. i don’t want whatever you have. when you fall, i will point and laugh at your clumsy ass. this is my oath, i pledge till the end. why, you may ask? because you’re my friend.
a friend will help you move.
a true friend will help you move bodies.
it’s all so springer. courtesy of the Imposing Bald Queen.
8/9/2001: transit becomes a birthday bash for friends. vip party and rampant gratis cocktailing from 9 to 11, general public from 11 to 3. sets by psychobitch, jernell geronimo and fivestone. sense of style essential to get past door goons.
if you’ve got addiction issues and my phone number, this one’s for you. i’ve been ordered to dole out guest passes. use this in case of over-pruning of dendrites (lost phone numbers).
40% of america, according to these numbers, speaks a language other than english. gave me pause…it’s much lower than my neighborhood. also made me consider how my language patterns have changed since leaving cracker-laden tennessee. i now speak halting spanish almost every day and clumsy bits of german to my housekeeper on fridays. she’s teaching me more as it becomes necessary. what languages do you use every day?
pause and observe: the Imposing Bald Queen (a man of thirty-one) is on the phone giggling with a boy over filming techniques in david lynch vehicles. he’s been that way since 9:30PM. meanwhile, i’ve been trading semi-obscene emails with someone else while not concentrating on my newest (and tardiest) font collection. love makes us do the wacky. ain’t it grand?
every few years, a conceptual typeface comes along that makes my pathetic life worthwhile. this is that font: san francisco public service, commodified. yummmm.
if uninstalling OSX (as i did ‘cause she’s, like, pretty but dumb…i’m waiting for adobe to initiate full support before i do anything rash), do it by hand. toss everything in the trash. be forewarned: it’ll leave approximately 150MB of invisible files on your drive. this is the software equivalent of barfing at a keg party and missing the toilet by two rooms.
heavens. so much for my workday (courtesy of this gentleman). i must protest. as if it wasn’t hard enough to concentrate on interface design, which i find intolerable, now i’m completely distracted and flustered, is all i’m saying. so cuddidout.
(although i have wondered for some time just how long it would take the gay blog circuit to degenerate into gratuitous booty shots sans context. not that i’m complaining or anything.)
pj, who’s a big fan of crate and barrel, keeps an archive of those gorgeous splashpages he creates. i’m thinking this should be a standard feature on every personal site. looking through my own, a splashpage is decidedly as much an emotional barometer as any written piece.
possible new interface design, just so you know what you’re in for. the images will still swap out. i want un-designed information. guess this is my response to five years of oversaturation from the media. i want clarity. boldness. information that’s honest about its subjective nature.
joi: ghetto superstar
puck dannin: family affair
adult: hand to phone (dakota, you rule)
ltj bukem: sunrain
seefeel: industrious
erwin van moll: the great lover
and many more. as seen on tv! (right.)
luke ford quits! hundreds breathe sigh of relief. thousands more scratch their heads quizzically and say, “who..?”
i have: everything i ever wanted.
i see: sudden possibility where there was none.
i hate: being unable to decide.
i wonder: if mom’s okay.
i miss: su.
i find: that i’m better in times of chaos.
i want: to stop wanting.
i regret: my lack of friendship with my father.
i need: very little.
i wish: i could concentrate.
i fear: failure by my own standards.
i hear: the heat pump, my cat chatting with me.
i love: su.
i smell: sweat, cigarette smoke, thierry mugler’s a-men.
i crave: my future.
i feel: suddenly lonely.
when was the last time you…
talked to an ex: two hours ago.
kissed someone: this morning.
were sarcastic: dunno.
laughed: twenty minutes ago.
cried: lonely in a hotel room in new orleans.
had a nightmare: yesterday.
danced: this afternoon, waiting for a rendering to finish.
smiled: just as i hung up the phone a few moments ago.
bought something: this morning.
last book you read: most of blindness (my copy got loaned).
last song you heard: “dolores,” blind mr. jones.
last movie you saw: planet o’ the apes (sucked).
last thing you had to drink: water.
last time you showered: two days ago.
last thing you ate: tomato wedges with goat cheese.
do you…
smoke: yup.
do drugs: occasionally.
live in the moment: usually.
sleep with stuffed animals: live cats. more responsive.
have sex: frequently.
play an instrument: cello (very well), piano (horrendously).
have a dream that keeps coming back: no.
believe there is life on other planets: don’t really care.
believe it’s possible to remain faithful forever: define faithful.
consider yourself tolerant of others: to their face, yes.
remember your first love: yes. we’re still friends.
have any straight friends: several.
read the newspaper: occasionally.
still love your first love: beyond friendship and history, no.
believe in miracles: nope.
have a favorite candy: crunchie!
believe in god: spare me.
believe in magic: see above.
believe in astrology: as kneejerk rationalization and party trick.
like the taste of alcohol: yes.
hate yourself: occasionally.
talk to strangers who im you: if witty.
have any bad habits: smoking, too much art.
like your handwriting: yes.
collect anything: typefaces.
have a secret crush: no.
have any piercings: seven.
have any tattoos: six.
go to church: never.
have any pets: bigfatcat.
wear hats: never.
pray: never.
believe in ghosts: only in moments of desparation.
care about looks: last week i spent $2142.34 on clothing.
believe in satan: no.
believe in witches: no.
have a best friend: no.
whoever left me that voicemail, please identify yourself and explain.
my how things change: eight years ago, kari and i were roommates in a crappy one-bedroom apartment in boystown…she was recovering from a junkie boyfriend, i was recovering from tennessee. we worked together at an equally crappy design agency. soon after that, i quit…to be replaced by noel childs. noel’s now kari’s husband.
this morning at 9:21 and 9:23 (respectively), kari and noel became parents (for the second and third times). enter stage right two identical lovely ladies: trudy and story childs.
now where’d i put those cigars..?
confidential to beyotch who just left this on my home voicemail line: i know who you are and what your street address is. i will be vindicated.
i felt stubble. did i just knock your jaw off?
i’ve survived worse.
(i really must do something about my dancefloor enthusiasm.)
road trip! yay. i get time with my boy next weekend. moon over miami indeed.
nt sure how many know about this, but there’s going to be a metafilter chicago shindig on september tenth, organized by monsieur lake effect. this means i get to see the skillet and el somnolent again, as well as meeting la phonezilla (among others) for the first time.
i. am. such. a. geek.
it’s modular, baby. “modular” typography: letters made from a set visual system of shapes. modualr types are usually thought to be a product of the macintosh generation, what with the ease of duplicated elements…but that ain’t necessarily so. most of the earliest digital modular types were heavily reliant upon art deco, bauhaus and constructivist motifs for lack of any contemporary precedent. current works are infatuated (second one down is my personal favorite) with led typography.
but before the postscript era, there was super veloz: a gorgeous plateset family comprised of snap-on and snap-off elements…even a series of script elements. see how history repeats itself (via lines and splines)?
“…and these are our creative directors: anthony ma, patric king, kae penner-howell, and bill faude.”
“what do they do?”
“you’re lookin’ at it. they just sit around lookin’ slick all day.”
thanks. now if you’ll excuse me, i gotta go back on press (where i’ll sit around, wait for proofs, and look slick).
