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I decided to try something, well.... the title says it all. This is still rough, only a first draft, and very much under construction but I think even in this state, it's a lot better than my last attempt: bjpentecost.deviantart.com/art…

I hope you like it. ;) Muahahaha.

Edit: It's definitely not for everyone. Fair warning, if you don't like the ridiculous style I write my journals in, you almost certainly will not like this. You probably won't like it if you're an easily butthurt conservative either.
When my eyes start going wonky and I can't see well enough to paint, I like to indulge this ludicrous notion that I can write. I use a dark gray background with slightly less dark gray text magnified somewhere between 230% and 290%. This doesn't strain my eyes too much so long as I take frequent breaks and keep some ice cubes or cold water handy. I would rather not spend all day lying in bed like a speed bump while so much potentially useful time goes zipping past at the speed of life. I'm already 33yo. This shitshow is probably about half over and I don't want to waste the time I have left.

I love writing but the truth is, I'm not great at it. I think I could maybe, perhaps, perchance, possibly, probably have been good at it if I'd put my 10K hours into that instead of art. But I didn't and here we are. However, with my eyes wonking out on me every other day, I feel I have an opportunity to put some hours towards not sucking at writing.

During this latest attack, I decided to pick up an old writing project I started some time ago. It was AWFUL! I was so embarrassed about how bad it was that I cringed myself into a singularity at one point. *shudders* It was prolix, meandering, and crammed full of prose so purple I couldn't read it without a blacklight. I'm pretty sure I briefly strayed into x-ray territory with a literal ENTIRE PAGE worth of description. I wonder if any other writers out there have ever been irradiated by their own purple prose. I mean, I could weaponize this shit and sell it to the military for fuck's sake. If we're ever visited by hostile aliens, just sit me in front of a laptop and I'll write at them. Hopefully, the resultant gamma ray burst doesn't incinerate the entire hemisphere.

I'M EVEN DOING IT RIGHT NOW! Probably 95% of the people who see this are going to "TL;DR" and fuck off because they don't want to get irradiated by my bullshit. I have this tendency to want to paint with words in the same way I paint with, well, paint and by that I mean ALL OF THE DETAILS. ALL OF THEM. EVERY SINGLE ONE. DDDEEETTTAAAIIILLLLLSSS. Details. By my reckoning, writing and painting have a surprising number of things in common but they also have a few differences that are vastly, enormously, giganto-fuckingly huge, among which is the way viewers absorb detail. In paintings, detail can be imbibed quickly and easily with minimal effort. In reading, the viewer has to FUCK. I'm doing it again! AAAHHHH.

Anyway, to the damn point (Jesus Christ, Bobbie Jean). I decided to try and fix my old project. I was enthusiastic at first but the longer I worked on it, the more I began to fear it was irreparable. Frustrated, I decided to start a new story. It was great! It hooks you immediately. Gets you asking questions. Makes you want to know what happens next. I didn't frontload all my description. Prose was descriptive yet minimalist. And I hit a wall because I couldn't stop thinking about my other project. I can't quite bring myself to let it go.

And I'm doing it AGAIN. Jesus. Alright, let me get to the damn cheese here before the remaining 5% of you decide to fuck off too, assuming you haven't already been purple prosed into nonexistence.

The only way I'm going to improve is if I receive input and critique from varying sources. Most of my friends and family think everything I do is goldplated perfection manifest. I can show them literal garbage and they will be like "oh my god you're so amazing and perfect! You're a goddess of creation!" That's great for the ego but it doesn't really help me improve. Everyone else I know either doesn't read, isn't interested in the kinds of things I write, or has no useful input beyond shit like "it's okay" or "not bad."

So, without further irradiation ado, here is that old story I tried to fix: Word docs: Temporary post

For those capable of wading through not very good writing and ultraviolet prose that may occasionally stray into x-ray territory, I'd appreciate some feedback. If you don't have the time or the inclination, I won't hold that against you. If you do somehow manage to get through some of it or, gods have mercy on your soul, all of it, I'd appreciate a little feedback. I suggest reading it on a tablet if you can. It's about 8K words.

Concerns I have:

-Premise is odd
-Main character is odd
-Hook isn't compelling enough
-Drags about the middle
-Ending isn't compelling enough
-Purple prose and overlong descriptions
-Not enough action
-Trying to un-frontload description may have created some confusing bits
-Sentences are occasionally a bit overlong

Things I am not concerned about:

-Anything that can be easily fixed by an editor (grammar, syntax, etc)
-Having my feelings hurt. I can take blunt honesty and in fact, I prefer that, but there's no call to be an arse either. A polite but honest approach is preferred.

Questions:

What is your overall impression? Good? Bad? Has potential? Light it on fire and never speak of it again?

What, if anything, did I do well?

What can I improve on?

Any other thoughts?
For those out of the loop.

Whatever this is, it's hitting me hard, fast, and it's unremitting. I've been effectively and continuously debilitated for a straight week now and intermittently throughout the past two months. I have to look at my computer screen with sunglasses on even to type this and I'm having a lot of difficulty putting coherent thoughts together. I certainly can't paint. I've tried several times and usually brings on a grab bag of lovely consequences like blinding migraines, inflammation around my eyes so severe I can't see, and horrendous neck pain way beyond anything that's normal.

My health insurance doesn't kick in until Feb 1 so until then, there's nothing for me to do but sit here and wait and try to get some work done between flareups. Even when it does kick in and I can get in to see a doctor, there's no guarantee they'll be able to help as they've proven entirely useless to this point.

***If this goes away, I will resume commissions so if you were in my queue and want to stay there, that's fine. I'll keep you apprised.

I'm not feeling very hopeful at the moment. I straight up stopped breathing in my sleep last night and woke up gasping for air. 
TL;DR backstory: For the past seven or eight years, I have been suffering episodes during which I experience a marked, precipitous decline in visual acuity accompanied by neck pain, inflammation and pain in the eyes, increased intraocular pressure, pain on eye movement, and fatigue. When the episode ends, my eyesight stabilizes but is a little worse than before.  

I haven't given an update on my eyesight in a while as I thought I had it under control. Thanks to the Olympic medal winningly useless doctors around here, I was left with no choice but to self-diagnose off Google. Yeah, I know, but what else was I supposed to? I have been to many, many doctors about this over the last few years and all I get is a fucklot of "I unno." You'd think one of these morons would have thought "that sounds like migraine symptoms!" but no such luck. I always thought migraines were just glorified headaches and they had never been a problem before so I would never have thought migraine was the culprit. The next time I had one of these episodes, I took Excedrin Migraine which cleared it right up. I stopped noticing declines in my eyesight immediately. Problem seemed to be solved.

Eventually, however, the migraines stopped responding predictably and consistently to Excedrin migraine. So I'd take Advil instead which also seemed to work, though, sometimes, the migraines wouldn't respond to that either. Sometimes the pain responds to either or neither. I never really know. It's a guessing game which I'm sure my liver and kidneys just love. So when this started happening, I decided it might behoove me to see a doctor despite their previous track record of award-winning excellence in uselessness. Figured I'd try a new one. Fresh start. Maybe I'll get lucky. She has a great reputation. People really like her. NOPE! More of the same. "I unno." She ran some routine blood tests and they all came back normal which ended in more "I unno" followed by "don't let the door hit you on the way out k thanx bye." No "hm, that's strange. I'll run some more tests" or "I'll refer you to a neurologist." Nope. Just "bye." That's all I get. "I unno" and "bye."

It has become abundantly clear to me that I'm dealing with something far worse than migraines which I'm pretty sure are not supposed to last a month or more. They have also started co-presenting with the following lovely new symptoms: generalized pain that moves around, increased sensitivity to pain, arthritis-like stiffness, increased intracranial pressure, feeling feverish without fever, cognitive impairment, heart palpitations, difficulty concentrating, excessive thirst, unrestful sleep and sleep disturbances, anxiety attacks, depression, severe vision disturbances, dyspnea (difficulty breathing) with no past history of breathing problems, numbness and tingling in the fingers and toes, weakness in the extremities, pain on tactile stimulation, decreased sensitivity in hands and feet after tingling/numbness recedes, edema, and a few other symptoms I don't need to TMI you with.

I am very probably looking at fibromyalgia, however, that doesn't explain my eye problem because fibro isn't degenerative and doesn't come with inflammation which means on top of fibro, I'm probably also looking at MS, Sjögren's syndrome, or something else that is degenerative. I don't know because to this point, literally every single doctor I have seen about this, probably upwards of fifteen individuals by now, has been totally and completely useless.

I don't have T2 Diabetes. We know at least that much. My HGA1C was 4.something at last check and my fasting blood sugar is always around 80-something. I am at seriously high risk for T2D thanks to genetic predisposition and PCOS (50% of women with PCOS will become diabetic) but I'm not there yet thanks to a regular regimen of exercise and a mostly healthy diet (not going to pretend I don't occasionally snag a bag of peanut MnMs). Still, no matter how you slice it, the prognosis isn't good, especially considering that I can't get any of these morons down here to pull their heads out of their assholes long enough to help me.

I am going to reach out one last time. That is it. Once. To a neurologist. And if I get one more fucking "unno" I give up. I can't keep throwing money at this. Even with insurance, my medical bills are starting to get ridiculous. If I sound angry, it is because I am very angry and extremely frustrated. Of the 25+ doctors I have seen throughout the course of my life, 3 have helped me in an objectively beneficial way. The rest have harmed me, attempted to harm me, dismissed me outright, or attempted to kill me. Don't mistake me. This isn't some kind of weird paranoia. I'm sure at least some of these doctors honestly thought they were doing the right thing. Some were undoubtedly pill-pushing but most of them likely thought they were helping. Fact is, they weren't. I almost died twice as a direct result of brazen, inexcusable ignorance on the part of doctors and a huge chunk of my life was ruined or at least ruined in part thanks to pill-pushers, ignorants, and apathetic assholes.

I'm not saying all doctors are bad. They saved my mother's life for which I am unendingly grateful. Maybe I've just had really rotten luck and happened to stumble on every one of the worst doctors from NY to FL. I suppose that's possible. Either way, I'm in deep shit and frankly, I don't know that I can survive going blind.  

So that's that. You've been apprised.
A friend of mine, who is a totally awesome dood, sent me a JESUS METRIC HOLY CHRIST-TON of rum cake for Christmas last year which I am quite delighted by because rum cake is nummy. I have a literal stack of rum cake in my room right now. :P (Thank you again, btw, dood.) So, yesterday, I decided I wanted to have a piece of rum cake. I grabbed the box labeled "Rum Swizzle" and went out into the kitchen. My cat, Bilbo, a pudgy gray tabby, saw this and followed after me because if I'm going out to the kitchen, that probably means "get food" or at least an opportunity to plant his fat ass in the middle of whatever I'm doing and "get attention." Those are his two main motivations in life- get food, get attention… and also wait for the exact !@#$%^&*ing moment I'm done cleaning the kitty shitter box before he goes in there and takes the most gnarly nose hair-curling dump he can muster.

Anyway, so, I proceeded to attempt opening the box. Mind you, there is a genetic predisposition in my family that renders our women utterly, totally, and entirely inept at opening things. It doesn't matter what it is. If it involves being opened, we will find some way to catastrophically fuck it up. Jars have shattered on floors, plastic shards have lacerated flesh, food has gone sailing overhead and splattered the cabinets behind, liquid has erupted skyward, and even simple doors occasionally pose a problem for women of my family- I mean WAY above the standard deviation for failing at opening things.

So I knew I was in for a fight. The cardboard opened easily enough. The tissue paper put up a bit of a struggle but I managed to persevere. The plastic, however, was a formidable foe and would not yield without a fight. I could have just grabbed a pair of scissors I suppose BUT THAT WOULD BE CHEATING! So I wrestled that villainous plastic into submission, reached in, grabbed that rum cake right by the ass, and yanked it out into the light of DAY! …only for it to cartwheel up my forearm like a Ferris wheel off its hinges.

I have NO IDEA why my reflex was to flail as the rum cake neared my elbow but that is exactly what I did and it went sailing into the air like a great, majestic donut, at which point, some woefully mistaken part of me still unwilling to accept the fact that I have NO coordination at all, thought "OOH! I CAN CATCH THAT AND IT WILL BE AWESOME!" I watched the rum cake rise as if in slow motion. I saw it coming down, enhaloed in shimmering golden god rays of sunlight. My hand came up, then down, my fingers clenched… NAILED IT!

Except I didn't because my fingers clenched like a second too late and instead, I ended up slam-dunking Bilbo right in the head. He scrambled away into the corner and glowered at me with the seething hatred of a thousand volcanoes. I can't say as I blame him. I mean, how would you feel if you were minding your own damn business only to find yourself on the receiving end of a random meteoric rum cake smiting? My basenjis caught wind of this at which point they both ran out into the kitchen and froze, like… Dog.exe has stopped functioning because the conflict between wanting to "Hungry Hungry Hippo floorbound food before the other dog gets it" and "chase cat" fried their little doggy brains. I used that moment to quickly scoop it back up and see if it was salvageable.

Aside from a little cat hair, it was okay. I gave it a bath in some eggnog (would have used milk but we were out and not a single one of the fucknodules I live with thought to put it on the grocery list) then I set it in the oven for a bit because I was NOT about to let this big, beautiful rum cake be ruined by cat hair and kitchen floor detritus. It was surprisingly quite yummy heated up which is great but I think Bilbo probably won't be speaking to me for a while.

TL;DR: TIFU by slam-dunking my cat in the head with rum cake.
I sit hunched over a desk for hours on end, staring at a computer screen, making incremental changes to Photoshop documents and agonizing relentlessly over minutiae most people won't even notice, hoping that the end result will yield enough e-validation to fill the gaping crater where my self-esteem is supposed to be.

I also like to ruin my knees while daydreaming about being a beautiful, intelligent, talented, rich, overachieving hero set to a soundtrack of the same five or six songs on repeat that I will eventually get tired of as mosquitoes chase me through hot, humid flying spider-infested Florida backstreets every night for about an hour because I have trouble accepting the increasingly difficult to ignore fact that you can't out-exercise a bad diet and if you want to be thin, especially if you come from a family with a strong genetic predisposition towards obesity, you can only eat the things you like once in a very rare while or in such minuscule quantities that you might as well not be eating them at all which relegates you to either eating so little that you feel like you're constantly starving or eating things you absolutely loathe with the seething hatred of a thousand suns such as beets, carrots, and celery that smell and taste like literal, actual poison to you because your parents were idiotic fuckknobs who raised you on a diet of pure sugar so everything that doesn't have sugar in it tastes like bullshit and you're probably going to develop Type 2 Diabetes at some point but perhaps if you exercise excessively enough you can stave it off until your patellas disintegrate at the age of 40 which is coming up a lot more rapidly than you would ever have thought possible because time seems to speed up exponentially with every passing year which makes you afraid to blink as you might suddenly find yourself playing bingo to a soundtrack of wheezing, coughing, and nebulizers but even that is probably fairly optimistic as you'll be lucky to make 45 before that heart attack, stroke, or aneurysm finally decides to happen.

I also occasionally like to sit down with a hunk of dead tattooed plant matter and disengage from reality because that is much more enjoyable than doing the other things I should be doing instead such as paying bills, vacuuming, dusting, talking on the phone with health insurance representatives from India who I can't understand, and interacting with escaped Dunning-Kruger research monkeys in an attempt to sort out why my internet moves at the speed of grass growing... in a place where there is no grass... and why my DISH TV box keeps recording Game of Thrones en Español even though I have it set to record the English channel.

(Would you believe me if I told you I'm actually a decently happy person for the most part? :P)

I also like to shart my navel-gazing prattle into textfields so that maybe five or six other people will read it and reply with their own comments which is more satisfying than doing other things I should be doing like taking a shower and doing the laundry and generally being an adult.
Between FA, DA, my inbox, and the antenna on my tinfoil hat, I have received butt many questions and I shall proceed with launch in 3… 2… 1… *extremely uneventful and anticlimactic sputtering* That should satisfy your koala. I anticipate cheese. Thank you.  

Q: Why derpy frog?

A: He just kinda became a "thing" in the same way internet "things" sometimes do. He debuted in this piece: bjpentecost.deviantart.com/art… and for some reason, people just latched onto him. Ever since then, he's appeared in nearly all my pieces. In fact, people get angry with me if I don't include him. XD

~

Q: Do you need hugs?

A: Not at the moment but I will take one mmeeeeeellion dollars, pleez.

~

Q: How is your username PRONOUNCED?!?

A: SES-quip-ed-AIL-ean. The alternative pronunciation, VAIR-is-sim-ill-eh-TOOD-in-us, is equally acceptable. You may also call me silver one, I suppose, if you like, though, I don't know why you would when you could call me sesquipedalian or verisimilitudinous instead.
 
~

Q: What is that thing? Why do you bother hiding it with clothes?

A: I could tell you, but then I'd have to dunk you upside-down into a vat of chocolate and toss you in the sexy-sexy pit. That could be a wonderful experience or the most terrifying ordeal of your life depending on your proclivities. I will give you one item of your choosing with which to defend yourself. Liberal interpretation of the word "defend" may be applicable.

~

Q: I want the interpretive dance version.

A: "I can't," Silverone sighed, staring over the balcony as if the secrets to life itself dwelled there in the shadowy teal and burgundy foliage far below. A couple of drunken party-goers giggled across the courtyard, running this way and that.

"Why not?" the questioner asked, quirking a wry brow at the couple. The woman cackled and flapped around a corner like a chicken being chased by a fox and the man growled after her.

"Last time… I…" Siverone paused long in silence. "People died." The Grecian pillar to her left abruptly became much more interesting. She turned away from him to examine the faint craquelure and exposed nibbles of grit beneath the pearlescent skin. A vainglory beetle shimmied up the fluting, its mirrorshine wings reflecting flashes of sunset and splashes of encroaching night sky. She envied it for its obliviousness. Apparently, it had some very important beetle business to attend or perhaps took offence at her closeness and flew off in a noisy flutter.

The questioner stared in stunned silence, scrabbling for clarity but the cacophony of squealing party favors and drunken cheering knocked down any thoughts that climbed too high. After a long bought of gathering his piecemeal thoughts, he finally managed to blurt a single word; "what!?"

"You heard me," she answered more curtly than intended.

"I don't understand." A whispering breeze teased a skirt of wind chimes overhead. The silver and crystal sang pretty lies but he felt the year necrosing around him, deep in his bones, like creeping tendrils of arthritis. Twenty-sixteen could not be done with soon enough for his liking. The whole year had been one long farcical cavalcade of misery and regret from start to finish. Though there were only a few hours left of it, he feared what malevolence twenty-sixteen could get up to even in that short span of time. The year had pulled no punches.

"You don't need to understand," she warned. "All you need to know is that I can't; not unless you want twenty-seventeen to be even worse than twenty-sixteen."

The questioner jerked back as if she had thrown a bucket of ice water in his face. "What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said." Her voice was cold and sharp as the sighing shing of a leyic blade being drawn from its sheath.

A-are you saying… all of this… this entire year…"

"Is my fault?" She turned away again, unable to meet his eyes. "How was I supposed to know it would come to this?"

He shook his head, his face melting into an expression of abject dismay. "David Bowie? Harambe? Prince? Carrie Fisher?" His eyes darted about frantically, his mind flashing with imagery of all the mayhem and heartache the year had wrought. "TRUMP!?"

The telltale pop of a champagne cork preceded shattering glass followed by a wave of uproarious cheering, laughter, and applause.

Silverone nodded.

The questioner stared horror-stricken, shaking his head. "Y-you have to fix it! You have to reverse it!"

"And risk making it worse!?" she spat. "No. I wouldn't dare. Honestly, I don't think there's anything left to do but let it burn. Maybe we can build something better out of the ashes."

"But…" Something inside exploded and a fire erupted to boisterous cheering.

"But nothing. My power was clearly not meant to be used this way." 

"Then, pray tell, how was it meant to be used?" he demanded.

"You don't want to know."

"Yes, I really do," he pressed, leaning in close. "You owe me that much."

Silverone sighed. "Alright. You asked for it." She leapt up to the banister with all the grace of a unicorn. Amethyst, pearl, and blue topaz silks flowed about her, billowing as if caught in an ethyreal gust. She held out her arms to the setting sun and breathed deeply of its fading golden rays. The coin belt around her ample hips began to jingle. The bracelets, baubles, and beaded strings tingled like wind chimes and bells, glistening with stars of trapped light. Her silks shimmied with her movements like rippling water.

From the foothills to the desert, from the snowfields to the city, from the riverlands to the plateaus to the mountain peaks and forests, every male stopped as if frozen in time. Mid conversation, working the fields, eating, gardening, walking, reading, sleeping, painting, mid coitus- their heads turned east. Their legs moved of their own accord, dragging them forth in a stampede that rolled across the land like a tidal wave.

"NO! GOD! PLEASE STOP!" the questioner cried out but it was too late for he was too a boy and thus compelled, same as all the others, to Silverone's yard. He flung himself over the balcony, unable to resist the siren call.

"IT'S BETTER THAN YOURS!" a man shouted at his very confused wife then scrambled through the mansion out into the yard with all the others congregating there.

"DAMN RIGHT!" Silverone bellowed in a tremulous voice with all the might and fury of an erupting volcano. And she shook her milk all night long, until the curtains closed on twenty-sixteen.

I am a fucking idiot. Why do you people put up with me? I wouldn't. Jesus Christ.

~

Q: Was twenty-sixteen really that bad?

A: Aside from the election of a walking 4chan meme to the most powerful political position on the planet, eh. I think it's more that the age has come for many where death is becoming uncomfortably real. We make jokes and laugh about it, threatening to form protective circles around Betty White and Sir Ian McKellan which is answered with "don't give 2016 any ideas" but the truth is, we're starting to realize that maybe there is no magical mystical beardy father figure in the sky promising an eternity of perfect bliss. Maybe the singularity isn't going to happen and Ray Kurzweil isn't going to descend in a cloud of nanoparticles to bring us to the transhumanist promised lands. Maybe we're not going to reincarnate as someone rich and powerful and impossibly awesome or whatever else.

We're starting to realize that just like our heroes, just like the people we loved and admired and looked up to throughout so much of our childhoods, we are going to stop existing and the universe will go on without us until its heat death or obliteration by vacuum decay at which point the transcendent beings will end the simulation and humanity will be relegated to a footnote of a footnote of a footnote in some unimportant footnote of a footnote of a footnote. Maybe we'll get an honorable mention for having almost become a class one civilization before we blew ourselves up and fulfilled the more dour predictions of the Fermi paradox. 

~

Q: Got a favorite aircraft?

A: Serenity! :D But now for my real answer… I don't really tend to care too much about vehicles except in their capacity to provide interesting set pieces or plot devices. Being stranded in a spaceship or on a ship at sea, murder mystery on a train, Snowpiercer, Speed- the ideas are infinitely more interesting to me than the vehicles themselves. The only exception to this might be motorcycles. They can be sexy, cool, badass, intimidating, or even terrifying. They're very versatile and there's something more personable about them than other vehicles. I can't really explain why I feel that way. Perhaps it's because you can actually see the people riding on them and in a way, they're almost as much a character-revealing accessory as a vehicle.

~

Q: After the recent disappointing Assassin's Creed movie, do you think it is possible to make a really great videogame movie that competes with other great non-videogame related movies?

A: I think it is perfectly possible to make a great videogame movie. I believe this hasn't happened yet because the following criteria have not been met:

- It would require a great director.
- Who is good at telling stories.
- And isn't afraid to tell a story beyond what we've seen in the videogames.
- Has an intimate knowledge of the material.
- And who not only *knows* the material but understands *the spirit of the material.*
- It would have to be acted out by great actors.
- Who have at least some knowledge of the source material.
- And of course, it would require other things that go into great movies such as good editing, seamless effects, soundtrack etc.

These things simply have not crossed paths yet (imo).

Let's take the Assassin's creed verse for example. We tell the story of an assassin not yet explored in the game series. Her name is Hannah. She is a young 13yo girl; bright, curious, as adventurous as she's allowed to be which is not very. She is normal in just about every way... until the day her mother and father are found brutally murdered in their bedroom. The estate is suddenly overrun by fighting men. Everything is on fire. She's terrified. She doesn't know what to do. A hooded woman in white appears and holds out her hand, changing Hannah's life forever.

The story revolves around this hooded woman teaching Hannah how to be an assassin and more importantly, how to be a *woman* assassin. Fact is, nearly all men are stronger than nearly all women. Your average guy is stronger than literally 99.9% of women. Nearly all of Hannah's opponents are going to be bigger than her and at least twice as strong as her, probably more so since they aren't going to be average men. Thus, if a woman is going to be an assassin, it's going to be very different from how men do it. I think it would be very interesting to explore that idea.

Her assassin's garb could turn inside out to look like peasantwear or a noble woman's garb or a courtesan's dress. Perhaps she could have different outfits for different assignments. She could have wigs and a makeup kit on hand to do a quick contour job and make herself look like someone else (dunno how feasible that is, just spitballing ideas). She would have to learn how to fight against opponents who are bigger and literally more than twice as strong as she is by using their weight and momentum against them, by being smart, cunning, resourceful, and flexible. Perhaps she develops her own code that she will not kill anyone, not even an aggressor, unless the person is on her list of targets. I could go on all day and this is just ONE idea I pulled out of my arse on the fly without even putting much thought into it. I could come up with Assassin's Creed story possibilities in my sleep.

Here's where this idea would go wrong- shitty director with dollar signs in his eyes sees a way to pander to women and get easy money with minimal work. He scrabbles together a few shitty actors and maybe a decent one or two but most of the budget is going towards garish, second rate CGI effects anyway so one or two is the best he can do. He tells this story with sloppy, unsubtle, shoehorned in lesbian overtones. Get the male butts in the seats too! Two birds, one stone. Shoehorn in a male love interest for drama's sake because reasons and why not?

What we end up with is a crappy telling of what could have been a great story acted out by actors whose only motivation is "erotica" which pisses off both men and women because both groups know they're being shamelessly pandered to and don't appreciate the tactless, patronizing tone or sloppy exploitive manner in which the subjects were handled. Somehow, the movie still makes A LOT of money despite being universally panned so an equally crappy sequel is inevitable.

There is, IMO, not a single damn thing stopping a truly great videogame movie from happening except that the aforementioned requirements have yet to cross paths.

~

Q: What do you want to get for Christmas?

A: Material things don't do much for me unless they facilitate my creative process in some way which is problematic because my creative process involves some pretty expensive stuff and I don't know any benevolent loaded millionaires. :p If I knew any, I'd ask for a supercomputer with Photoshop Creative Cloud, Zbrush, Vray, Maya, Vue, and a personal renderfarm but that's not going to happen. So I usually ask for videogames, books, and pajama pants because my closet eats pajama pants for some reason. I swear, one day, the damn thing is just going to explode and every pair of pajama pants I have ever owned is going to come spewing out in a big, watery belch, leaving a pajama pants-strewn hole in the north wall of my room.

~

Q: What.... is your favourite colour? -no wait, I think we can all guess that one…

A: I bet you can't either. Go ahead, try. I guarantee not a single one of you knows it.

~

Q: Beside PS and digital painting, what is your favourite software/medium?

A: Absolutely, one-hundred percent, hands down, no contest, ZBRUSH. I worship at the altar of Zbrush. Pixologic is my god. I. Fucking. LOVE Zbrush. I wish all creative developers were as innovative and facilitative as Pixologic. I swear to every possibly existing god, every time I think they can't possibly make this program any better, they go and make the program better. Gggaaawwwddd I love the Zmodeler tools.

~

Q: Who or what are you? and if so, how many?

A: I am become Tacobell, destroyer of toilets. *arises in a cloud of guacamole, pico de gallo, and three-cheese blend*

~

Q: Vaccum decay? guh ya made me google that!

A: Interesting stuff. Learned about it from Kurzgeskjnaksjnfkjbtn. I'm not even going to try. Relevant: www.youtube.com/user/Kurzgesag… (Edit: Oh, hey, look, there it is right there in the link. Hodor.)

~

Q: what does one have to do to win your heart?

A: The following requirements must be met:

1.) Must be roughly 9.4697e-5 miles tall.
2.) Must weigh approximately 0.000223214 imperial tons.
3.) Must generally fall somewhere between 2.628e+15 nanoseconds and 3.154e+16 nanoseconds old.
4.) Must be a member of the species, F. catus.

In all seriousness, I need someone who is intelligent, creative, has a sense of humor, is compassionate, empathetic, and shares my love of fantasy, science, RPing, and long thoughtful conversations. Must also like fluffy women because try though I may, I am, have always been, and probably always will be pretty damn fluffy. None of that is negotiable but most everything else is just different flavored cake icing.

~

Q: Miss Pantycoast, are the rumors about you and the sentient potato, true? The internet demands answers.

A: Firstly, I'll have you know that it's PantyCOATS, you ignoble sea marmot! Secondly, how dare you!? I am a sentient TOMATO. There is a HUGE difference. I mean really, people, come on. This is 2016… for the moment anyway.

~

Q: What's your favorite part when working on a new project?

A: In almost every painting I've ever done, there's a point I reach where it's all a smooth downhill slide to the finish line and I can focus on the fun stuff like detailing. That's my favorite part. I love getting wrapped up in detailing, especially jewelry and attire.

~

Q: What kinds of things helped inspire your fantasy world?

A: Whooo! That would be a very long list to fully flesh out so I'll TL;DR it: The Last Unicorn, The Lion King, the Legacy of Kain: Soul Reaver series, and Disney movies in general had a HUGE impact on my artistic development. Recently, however, I am becoming increasingly inspired by, of all things, chemistry, which I absolutely HATED in high school and barely even passed. I've become weirdly fanatical about it lately. It hasn't shown up in my artwork but it will soon… eh… rather someday when I manage to claw my way out from under commission mountain.

~

Q: Can I have a cookie?

A: Not unless you fandango your homework first and you'd better do a good rumcake impression or you're not getting any at all. I swear, I will absolutely revoke your electronegativity without hesitation. I might even go so far as to fluorinate your ass. You don't want that. Trust me. 

~

Q: Why isn't the world octagonal?

A: Little known fact- the world actually was effectively octagonal at one point. In its very early formation, after the collision with the asteroidal body which we now know as Mars, Earth took on a roughly octagonal form. Due to the prevalence of carbon and its strong tendency to form tightly-knit hexagonal substrates with silicate minerals and ionic hydrogen (specifically in conditions of high pressure and heat), enormous spans of flat surfaces began to propagate from the concretion process.   The very same polar covalent functions that are hypothesized to have instigated abiogenesis spurred on carbonosilicate substrate propagation so perfectly, the effect seemed almost procedurally generated, something that is considered mathematically sound evidence for the "Simulation Hypothesis."

As the concretion process slowed down, Earth was left, for a brief (relatively, in cosmic terms) period of time, with large octagonal facets, each spanning thousands of kilometers. Eventually, gravity, van der waals, and the strong nuclear forces colluded in crunching it all down to the lovely Earthen shape we know and love today- an oblate spheroidal pear.

Source: B. Taurus Egesta. 

~

Q: Are you good at interpretive dance?

A: We've been over this. I can't. Not unless you want 2017 to be even more catastrophic than 2016. At this rate, there would be nothing left of Earth but a giant smoldering anus floating in space come 2018.

~

Q: Can I have 2 cookies?

A: Get out of here with this Oliver Twist bullshit. Have you fandangoed your damn homework yet? Because if not, your ass is getting fluorinated. You've been warned.

~

Q: Is art your full time job? If so, when did you decide your work was professional enough to do so?

A: Yes. I started taking it seriously a few years ago. I realized that I can write my own ticket, set my own schedule, and be my own boss. I'll probably never be rich but I can work from home in my pajamas so there's that.

~

Q: If you had to start all over again and you wanted to get to where you are now, what would you do differently?

A: It's tough to say. I almost think the obsessive "art is life" and "art = self-esteem" phase I went through in my late teen/early adult years was unnecessary but I'm not sure it was. I don't have enough perspective. I don't know many other artists on a personal level so I don't know what their experiences are. Maybe if I had grown up emotionally healthy and happy, I wouldn't be as good as I am today. Or maybe I would have. Maybe all the suffering and obsessing and approval-seeking has ultimately made no difference in my artistic progress.

Otherwise, I can't think of too many other things I'd do differently aside from obvious things like practice more, study more, more perspective work, more pose work, etc etc.

~

Q: how much of the finished picture is in your head when you start creating?

A: Sometimes all of it, sometimes none of it, sometimes some of it. Depends on what I'm doing. If I'm doing a commission, I need to have a strong mental image to work by. If I'm doing something for myself that's unimportant, then I can just sit back, relax, and enjoy the brainfart-powered journey.

~

Q: What is the hardest part of the process for you?

A: Getting started. That's always the hardest, most tedious, difficult, brain-straining part for me. This is actually one of the reasons I love incorporating Zbrush into my paintings. Zbrush allows me to free-flow, spitball, and rapid-prototype ideas without having to commit upfront. I can experiment with poses, perspective, and props.

~

Q: First furry gal-crush? First furry guy-crush?

A: I think this is probably cheating but the answers to both of these questions are two of my characters.

First furry boy crush: bjpentecost.deviantart.com/art…

First furry girl crush: bjpentecost.deviantart.com/art… This one is technically a guy but I have a female version of him and I am ass over teakettle in love with her.

~

Q: Venison or bison?

A: Wildebeest.

~

Q: Can I have 3 cookies?

A: Do you want a fluoroantimonic acid enema? Because that's how you get a fluoroantimonic acid enema. Now fandango your damn homework. I won't tell you again. Jesus. You fucking people.

~

Q: Which word do you use sarcastically: Shagging, yiffing, swiving, plowing, or other?

A: Forking.

~

Q: Vampires or werewolves? Vampires on werewolves or werewolves on vampires?

A:  Why draw arbitrary lines in the sand when we can just open the doors and let everyone in? Gargoyles, satyrs, merfolk, centaurs, demons- I'm a free love kinda gal, though, I draw the line at Deep Ones. No tentacles allowed. I mean, I'm totally okay with other people being into that but it's not my thing.

~

Q: Is competitive ass-dragging a thing? Would taurs have competitive ass-dragging races?

A: So far as I know, it is actually a thing, but you have to get elected first and unfortunately, I think the competition is over for now. IIRC, we'll get another one in 2018, assuming we haven't blown ourselves up by then.

~

Q: SQUIRREL!

A: *brandishes cone of shame*

~

Q: Leeks or onions?

A: Ya know, I've never actually had leeks so I'm going to have to go with onions. I LOVE red onions and I'll put them on just about everything except, strangely, pizza. I don't like onions on pizza and I have no idea why since I like just about everything else on pizza. Parmesan/garlic white sauce? Hell yes. Banana peppers? Mmmhmm. Feta? Oh yeah. Spinach? Muchly. Mushrooms? Give it to me, babay! Garlic? Yes, please. Pepperoni? Absolutely. Jalapenos? If I'm feelin extra spicy, sure. Bacon? Damn straight. Ham? Okay. Sausage? Maybe. All of these things at once? Sure, why not? Onions? WELL THAT'S JUST UNREASONABLE!

~

Q: If Trump is Putin's pet carrot and Putin's secretly in the closet, does that mean Putin's a power bottom?

A: I don't know that your conclusion is necessarily tenable based on the premise. I'm not saying you're wrong. You might very well be right but there's not enough evidence to come to that conclusion. However, if Trump really is Putin's pet carrot and Putin is secretly in the closet, I think it is fair to say that carrot will soon be getting some serious comeuppance. (Is there a medal for pulling off a triple entendre?)

~

Q: Which combination of genders and personalities do you prefer to be FAQed by?

A: I am happy to be FAQed by any gender really. When it comes to FAQing and related activities, I'm really more interested in the aforementioned "things necessary to capture my heart."

~

Q: How have you been? You haven't posted any real general life posts for a while.

A: Eh. Been better, been worse. I haven't really posted much about myself recently because I'm always afraid it's going to somehow start a flamewar. I once made a post about what the weather was like in WA and the comments erupted into a flame war between people who could not reconcile that WA is a big state and has different weather systems along the cost and eastern border. Jinkies Christ, people will fight over anything.

~

Q: Did you end up getting fallout 4, if so did you enjoy it? Were there any other rpg games that surpassed it this cycle?

A: Alas, no, I have not. I probably will at some point, though, I have heard some unfavorable reviews and that makes me unsure whether I want to spend the money or not. The Witcher 3, despite some obnoxious flaws, was A LOT of fun. I really quite enjoyed it… even if Geralt was a bit of a Marty Stu.

~

Q: Since I am relatively young I don't have a real memory of other political phases, have there other transitions or phases that have looked as bad as this upcoming one?

A: Not ever in the history of my entire 33 years on this planet have I ever seen anything as ridiculous as this past election cycle, at least not in America. I am absolutely shocked by how many people genuinely seem to think Trump being elected is a good thing and the rationalizations are so far beyond absurd, it makes me wonder if some of these people aren't legitimately insane. "Liberals told me that I have to not be a cunt and I didn't like that so I voted for the walking 4chan meme with no political experience and a long history of corrupt, exploitive, sociopathic, unethical business practices." The fuck? I mean, I don't like Hillary either but for Flying Spaghetti Monster's sake, people…

~

Q: When will you be leaving Florida? I fear that the continual heat and humidity has had a corrosive presence, as recorded by this website

A: As soon as I can afford to. I hate literally almost everything about this state. The ONLY reasons I am staying here is because I can't afford to leave at the moment and because it has a low cost of living. Otherwise, I would be out of here.

~

Q: will there ever be another installment of the episodes of your puntastic gift and or your pants?

A: Yes, though, I don't know if anything will ever beat "tightlipped and forthcoming" or "Jesus Christ, quit being such a martyr." *facepalms* I don't know why people tolerate my existence sometimes. If I weren't me, I'd probably kill me in my sleep. 
 
~

Q: Did you ever end up using the answers to the earth-sci chem questions?

A: Yes. And it will be making its way into my art… eventually… after I manage to dig my way out from under commission mountain.

~

Q: It seems like your eyes have finally become stable, is that the case?

A: Yes and no. I now know (or think I know) the cause (or indirect cause) of my eye problems and I can sometimes head it off by engaging my liver and kidneys in combat which I typically win with heaping mounds of Excedrin Migraine and Advil. However, there are still days where I feel like I'm getting double-dicked in both eye sockets without lube and there's nothing I can do but lay in bed like a beached squid until the meds kick in.

~

Q: Any pieces of media that you've encountered over the last year or so that seems to really stick with you?

A: "Fenton! FENTON! FENNNTON! Jesos Chroist. FENTONNNN!" Apparently that's old but I completely missed it. So glad I found it this year. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard at anything ever and I'm not even sure why. I mean, was it really that funny? Yes. The answer to that is yes.

In all seriousness though, there were actually a few things that did stick with me but most of them were not good and I'm not sure I want to ruin everyone's mood by sharing. 2016 was actually kind of a beyotch.

~

Q: What systems and rulesets do you run with your rpg games? Do you make use of pre generated worlds, or has your group developed its own?

A: I've only run a few official games (Cthulhu and Rifts) but I do also run my own Bobbie Jeanoverse RPs using my own system which is kind of a bastardization of whatever I feel works well from other systems. I draw up character stats and have my players use the DnD dice roller ap. I also run other RPs that are purely story based and don't really require a system. The players decide whether they succeed or fail for themselves.

~

Q: You've been surprisingly well versed in scientific theory for your profession, has there been any papers or fields that has caught your eye over the past year or so?

A: I could write a mile-long list but here are a few notable scientific discoveries/advances/papers/etc that have caught my eye:

www.eurekalert.org/pub_release…

www.sciencedaily.com/releases/…
 
wexnermedical.osu.edu/mediaroo…

www.abc.net.au/news/2016-10-19…

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Linear_a…

We are also apparently developing bionic eyes that restore eyesight to the blind, CRISPR advances that may cure fatal genetic illnesses, and an EM-drive that doesn't in fact defy physics and actually works… fancy that. 

~

Q: Have you ever tried dark souls or its sequels? It isn't an RPG for talking but the worlds and lore are amazing.

A: Alas, nope. I'm not sure I want to either. I've heard it is amazing but I've also heard it is the among the most frustrating game series of all time.

~

Q: Lastly, have you tried balancing out the coffee with some tea?

A: I wonder what they would taste like together. >8} I must try this. FOR SCIENCE!

~

"And that's that," Silverone said, to the sea of gaping, horror-stricken faces.

A long, uncomfortable silence persisted, pocked by the occasional cough or shuffling of feet. When it became clear no one would dare break the seemingly universal agreement not to intrude upon the burgeoning silence, she shrank back with a sigh. After all, the performance had been quite trying for anyone bearing the slightest shred of empathy or decency and gods help anyone possessing even a modicum of logic or rationality.

As she prepared to exit stage left, a diminutive, elderly gentleman at the very back of the room stood up. He was but a silhouette amidst the shadows. Those around him cringed away as if he might infect them with whatever madness compelled him to stand. "Beg pardon, miss, but," he paused, "well, does this, this… atrocity have a name?"

Silverone's face contorted into a bloody rictus and her arms spread wide as if to embrace the people, every single one of whom were waiting for a proprietous moment to dash for the exits. A few had already left their seats and scurried down the aisles. 

"I call it, The Aristocrats." The doors slammed shut with the sound of a guillotine crashing down and the lights went out.
Been a while since I've done a FAQ. FAQ ME. FAQ ME GOOD N HARD! I was going to make a joke along the lines of getting FAQed in the inbox but I don't want that to be misinterpreted and end up with a shitillion questions in my inbox.... or my other box. Just ask em here. :P

Q: WTFAQ IS WRONG WITH YOU!?

A: Lots of things. Do you want the itemized list or the interpretive dance version?

Q: You're weird.

A: That is most definitely NOT a cantaloupe! I can only assume your dilapidated purple prose is standing in for some other grotesquery heretofore unparalleled in the annals of human turpitude. MAGNITUDINOUS! That should satisfy your koala. I anticipate cheese.

Q: WTF!?

A: Has anyone ever told you that you inspire poo? It's true. Even more so than Tacobell. Look! There goes one right now! PPPOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Q: You are fucked in the head.

A: VACUUM DECAY 2016! MAKE THE UNIVERSE GREAT AGAIN!

Q: I'm just gonna crabwalk away and come back when there's less weird shit.

A: (Narrator: And he was never heard from again.)

Yeah, I dunno what's wrong with me today. Maybe too much coffee. Or... maybe NOT ENOUGH COFFEE! Dun, dun, DDDUUUNNNNN!

Anyway, ask unto me thy questions and they shall be answered.
I'm going to be out of town for a week. Being dragged off to some Halloween event in Ybor city. I think it's called Guavaween or something.

In the meantime, I was wondering what kinds of things you guys would like to see from me as an artist. What would you like to see me paint? No answer is a bad answer. I'm nearly impossible to upset, TMI, or gross out and I don't really get offended very easily unless you're being a bigot in which case, ya know, fuck off with that shit.

I hope to see some interesting answers when I get back. Who knows? Maybe someday, when I finally manage to crawl out from under the mountain of commissions and other obligations, I'll include some of your ideas in future work.... unless it's something like "paint my character!" Nice try, smartass. I know at least one of you was thinking it. I'm on to you. *detective squint* -___-
I have been getting a lot of questions about whether I do 3D printing commissions lately so I figured I'd answer them all at once.

Q: Do you do 3D printing commissions?

A: Not usually. There are several reasons for this.


1.) My eyes are really terrible and I never know when I'm going to have an attack so I cannot commit myself to doing a serious 3D printing commission. I can usually still paint through an attack unless it gets really, really bad to the point where I can't do anything but lay in bed (thankfully, that does not happen often) but I can't 3D through an attack. It's just too stressful on my eyes and it will actually make the symptoms worse.

ATM, I'm okay. I could, in theory, probably take a 3D printing commission right now. However, I could not guarantee that I'd be able to finish it in a timely fashion. It could literally take months and I don't like things dragging on for months. I also really don't like unknowns and maybes in my professional life. So I stick to 2D commissions.

2.) It can be SUPER expensive. This Chisyn for 3D printing by BJPentecost is being printed up at 20cm tall and the base price is around 75$. That's more than most people would be willing to spend on something like this. Maybe if the economy was better and people had more discretionary spending to toss around that would not be the case but alas. And mind you, this is the cheapest material. If you want better detail and a better surface finish (at the cost of color), be prepared to spend 200-500 dollars or more. Mind you, that's just the base price. That doesn't even count my work fee which is also not cheap because 3D is a !@#$%^&*ing pain in the ass.

3.) Even without my eye problems, it still takes a very long time. I can, if pushed, get a model done inside a week, assuming I don't have any eye-attacks and the design isn't too complex. After I finish, I send my designs off to Shapeways to be printed. This usually takes around a month. However, if something goes wrong during the printing process and I have to fix the model, the process starts all over again.

TL;DR: It is ultimately a lot of hassle, expensive, difficult, and time-consuming.
www.stratasys.com/j750/tool

I WANT IT. I WANT THAT. ERMAGERD. All of the things I would do... I WOULD DO ALL OF THE THINGS EVER.
I have this tendency to accidental-pun. I do it A LOT. I do not do this shit on purpose, I swear. If you doubt or if you think I am making this up, I have friends who will attest (this shit drives them up the fricking wall). Some of these were face-to-face conversations and some of them occurred over Skype chat or text.

(On gun use)
JD: I'd love to take you to the shooting range some time.
Me: I'm not really much of a gun person.
JD: Come on, you might enjoy it.
Me: They kinda freak me out a little I have never even held one in my hands.
JD: It's not that hard. I'll show you how. Besides, it's good knowledge to have just in case.
Me: Alright, well, I guess I could take a shot at it.
JD: Dude……. That was awful.
Me: What?
JD: Seriously?
Me: *clueless herpderpface*
JD: You'll "take a shot at it?"
Me: Oh fuck me. XD *headdesk*


(On flying an airplane)
JD: Flying a plane really isn't that hard. To me, the hardest part was all the calculations.
Me: Ehck. No thanks. I hate math with a fiery, scathing passion.
JD: It's just simple math. I mean, ya kinda gotta be able to do it quickly in your head but it's still mostly simple stuff.
Me: I can't do math on the fly like that.
JD: *deathglare*
Me: Why are you deathglaring me? What'd I do? *derpface* Oh, god damn it.  


(On being bummed)
Dew: My life is so much crap.
Me: Oh come on, it's not that bad. You're just bummed.
Dew: I don't even know why I exist.
Me: Really? Come on now.
Dew: I just.... sometimes want to stop existing. Not even die, just stop existing.
Me: Jesus Christ, will you stop being such a martyr?
Dew: *About five seconds go by.* …........Bobbie......
Me: What?
Dew: Think about what you just said.
Me: What? *clueless derpface*
Dew: Jesus Christ…..
Me: *derpface intensifies*
Dew: Quit being such a…
Me: *derpface reaching critical mass*
Dew: …….Martyr.
Me: *derpface slowly melts into oh-shit-no-face* DDDOOOOOHHHHMYGOD. *facedesk and laughs myself into a nosebleed*
Dew: Well…. That cheered me up.
 

(On tabletop RP) (JD is a player, I am GM, this happened around a gaming table late at night)
Me: Okay so you want to run around town shmexing people for information again? How many are you going to bang this time?
JD: *rolls a D8, gets a 7* Seven. What do I get out of them?
Me: Lockjaw, flame crabs, sparkle herpes, one confession of undying love, a pamphlet advertizing the love of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, and fifteen bucks.
JD: Har har. Very funny. Did I get any actual information?
Me: *rolls die* The first four were very tightlipped and the other three were very forthcoming. You have discovered that…… what?
Everyone: *everyone around the table is staring at me with raised left eyebrows*
Me: *clueless derpface* What?
JD: Tightlipped? Forthcoming?
Me: Oh Jesus take the wheel. *headdesk*


(Conversation about character, happened in a car as we were driving)
Me: I like characters that are tame in appearance but are actually freaks in the sheets.
JD: Agreed. I especially love it when the love interests are surprised by it. Their reactions are always the best.
Me: Yeah. Like "whoa! I totally didn't see that coming!
JD: Oh my god, Bobbie Jean.
Me: What!? *derpface* Oh….. GODDAMNIT!


(On furries)
Me: No, no, no, no, NO! Appreciation for anthropomorphic art and bestiality are TOTALLY not the same thing.
JD: But I always thought they kinda were. I mean, that's what I was told anyway.
Me: NnnnnnooooOMG. Listen up, you uninitiated noob, there is a HUGE difference. Anthro art is the combination of human and animal attributes. The beings are still predominantly human in form and intellect. Bestiality is like, ya know, actually…. porking a pig.
JD: Jesus Christ, Bobbie Jean.
Me: What? *derpface* Oh my god. *Facedesk* …………..wait…. would that count as a…… double enpundre? *eyebrow waggle*
JD: ……. *makes strangle-fingers in my direction*


(On a pet bird)
JD: My father made me get rid of my pet cockatiel when I was a kid.
Me: I would never let my parents make me get rid of a pet.
JD: I was seventeen. I didn't really have much of a say.
Me: See, that's the difference between you and me. That shit would not fly in my house.   
JD: *five seconds of silence go by…* Really?
Me: What? *Derpface*
JD: *silence*
Me: (We were talking on Skype but I swear, I could actually hear her left eyebrow ascending)
Goddamn it. *facepalms*


(On unfortunate nicknames, (over Skype))
Me: My high school had this ice cream vending machine I occasionally liked to patronize. I'd pop in my dollar and a suction hose would descend, suck the ice cream bar up, and drop it into the slot where you reach in and grab it. The students used to call it "The Blowjob Machine" because of the sucky-hose and the weird sucking noises it made. I occasionally liked to have myself some ice cream so my friends took to calling me "Bobbie Jean the Blowjob Machine."
Fri: Haaaahhh! That's funny.
Me: Thankfully, the nickname didn't stick.
Fri: Fffftttt. Didn't stick? Lololol.
Me: Oh fuck me. God damn it.
Fri: HAHA! LOL! I swear you do this on purpose.
Me: NO. I REALLY DON'T.
Fri: Bobbie Jean the Blowjob Machine. I am going to start calling you that now.
Me: I should not have told you that, should I?
Fri: Nope.
Me: Me and my big mouth.
Fri: HAH. There is NO WAY you are NOT doing this on purpose.
Me: Huh? *derpface* GODDAMN IT! *Headdesk*
Fri: There is nothing you can say to convince me you're not doing this on purpose.
Me: I'M NOT! I swear to every possibly existing god! This is an affliction! You know how some fictional characters have a curse that causes them to speak in verse? My affliction is a lot like…..oh my god.
Fri: …………………….
Me: Great. Now I'm involuntary-punning AND speaking in verse! This just can't get any damn worse! ….Fuck.
Fri: *silence*
Me: Fri?
Fri: Murder.

 
(During tabletop RP)
JD: So *claps hands together* am I going to be banging people for information again?
Me: If that's what you want to do. You seem to do that a lot.
JD: I'm good at it.
Me: Did you ever actually add those extra stats for sex? *giggle-snorts*
JD: I did. I added "seduce," "perform," and "stamina."
RB: She should add "jerk-off" too. *snicker*
JD: Ooh! Ooh! Can I? *jumps up and down in seat*
Me: Sure, I'll allow it. Considering your character's job, that could really come in handy.
Everybody: *stare……….*
Me: What?
Everybody: *eyebrows rising*
Me: WHAT!?
Everybody: *eyebrows reaching critical altitude*
Me: Why are you making eyebrow at me!?
Everybody: *we have lift off!*
Me: Oh crap… did I pun?
Everybody: *eyebrows are now hovering somewhere in the upper stratosphere*
Me: Well, you're going to have to explain this one to me because I don't… Ooooohhhhhh. Fuck my life.
Everybody: *eyebrows explode*

(On wigs)
Me: I saw these really awesome wigs there. We should go and see if they have anything that would fit our costumes.
JD: Okay. I'm down with that.
Me: Some of them are made of real hair.
JD: Gah! No thanks. I prefer the fake ones.
Me: Why?
JD: I would never want to wear someone else's hair on my head. The idea just wigs me out…. AH! You infected me! Now I'm involuntary-punning too!
Me: *almost falls off the Olive Garden sidewalk* IT WASN'T ME THIS TIME! AHAHAHAHAHAHAH! *goes prancing off into the parking lot, singing merrily* IT WASN'T MEEEEEEEEeeeeeee! IT WASN'T MEEEEEEEeeeeeee! *frolic frolic gallivant frolic*


(On tall women)
Me: I used to prefer shorter women but taller women have kinda come to grow on me….. DOH! JESUS CHRIST!
Fri: Wow. Beat me to the punch this time. Congrats.


(On "scat-play")
Me: Typical response: "THAT'S TERRIBLE! THOSE PEOPLE SHOULD BE THROWN IN AN ASYLUM!" Me? Not my cup of tea but whatever. As long as it's consensual and they don't come anywhere near me with it, I don't give a shit….. Oh. My. God. Pun not intended. *Face desk, falls over*
RM: Haha. That's pretty funny.
Me: …………. You must be new.

(On Xanax)
Me: My mom says I'm too high-strung so she invented imaginary aerosolized Xanax spray and whenever I start getting uppity, she imaginary spritzes me.
Fri: One- I love your mom. Two- that is hilarious. Three- I want aerosolized Xanax spray. I would spray so many people. I would spray ALL the people. ALL OF THEM.
Me: I think we just discovered the way to end all wars.
Fri: Wait…. They tried something like that on Firefly and if I recall, it didn't work out very well.
Me: Oh yeah. Forgot about that. But, ya know, everything has it's downside. No reason not to give it a try. Hopefully we don't create a race of insaniacs who try to murder-fuck the shit out of everything in sight.
Fri: Things probably wouldn't be much different than they are anyway, I guess.
Me: Yeah… Oh! Someone just murder-fucked the shit out of an old folks home. Must be Tuesday.
Fri: ಠ__ಠ
Me: Oh god….. did I do it again? I did it again. I'M SORRY! I CAN'T FUCKING HELP IT! I AM CURSED! I SWEAR TO EVERY POSSIBLY EXISTING GOD, I DO NOT DO THIS SHIT ON PURPOSE. WHYYYY WHY GOD WHY!!!??!??
Fri: Whaaaaaa?
Me: Pun?
Fri: Where?
Me: What do you mean where!?
Fri: I'm so confused.
Me: Where's the pun? I know it's there somewhere. I just can't see it. I NEVER SEE IT UNTIL IT IS TOO LATE!
Fri: There was pun? If there was, I missed it.
Me: You missed it too? FUCK! WHAT DO WE DO NOW!?
Fri: Wait… was there ever pun to begin with?
Me: THERE IS ALWAYS PUN. THERE CANNOT NOT BE PUN. IF I SAID IT, THEN THERE IS PUN IN IT SOMEWHERE!!!
Fri: I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON! SOME ONE PLEASE HELP! I'M SCARED!!!
Me: If the NSA is listening in on this call, we're screwed. They're going to brand us as terrorists, lock us up, and throw away the whole !@#$%^&*damn building just to be safe.
Fri: You know what would really come in handy right now?
Me: I can think of a few things, each one of them A PUN WORSE THAN DEATH!
Fri: Aerosolized Xanax spray.
Me: Yes. Please. Dear god.
Fri: *aims spray bottle at you* PST! PST! PST!
Me: Aaaahhhh. GIVE ME THAT! PST! PST! PST! PST! PST! PST! PST! PST! PST!


(Cellllllllebrate good times, COME ON!)
Fri: She doesn't want to purchase home owner's insurance. Says it's too expensive.
Me: Doesn't she have to? I mean… isn't that like… the law… or something? Maybe?
Fri: Unno. But that's what they're on about recently. She doesn't want it, he does.
Me: *silent pause* Oh dear. That doesn't ~~~abode~~~ well. *HUGE SMILE, eyes go off to the sides*
Fri: ………….
Me: I DID IT ON PURPOSE THAT TIME! YYYYYAAAAHHHHOOOOOOO! *starts running around all over, jumping up and down, shouting, and dancing* CELEBRATE GOOD TIMES, COME ON! WHOOOO! *three humps to the left, three humps to the right, do the wave, moonwalk, gettin jiggy wid it* YEAH, BITCHES!
Fri: *silently seething* I know where you live. In fact, I am Google-Mapping your house right now. Prepare for murder.
Some of you will remember my last Out of Context List, Stop licking my pants! and you may (or may not) be glad to know that I have compiled even more topnotch what the fuckery! These are things that have been said either by me or to me by friends and family, things that I'm not even really sure make sense in context, let alone outside of context.

NSFW. If you would like to know the context behind any of these, ask and ye shall receive... but be careful what you wish for. There's a good chance you're happier not knowing. ;)

Without further adoodiness, I present.... Out of context!

~~~

Get your rifle out and aim it at my tits.

*Pulls up to drive through window, woman leans out and looks at us* do you guys have a dryer sheet in your car?

Well I'm sorry! This thing does not come with a "vagina owner's instruction manual!"

I promise, There are no furbies in my pants.

How is your face over here when your ass is over here too?

The one time I try to do something nice for you and I end up burning your dick off.

I do not believe in pants. I am an apantsiest.

Anthony Ihopkins starring in The Silence of the Pancakes.

*Said with total and complete seriousness* How much do we want to light this guy on fire?

There are many things I am certain of in this life and among them, the fact that yams do not have wheels. 

You mutilate it to your specifications and I'll take whatever's left over.

As long as nobody fucks the monkeys, it shouldn't be a problem.

You're supposed to walk with you feet, not with your face.

All aboard the HMS Taco Bell, destination Toilet Town. Toot! Toot!

What are you going to do, steer with your vagina?

*Shouted with great desperation* I NEED A ZEBRA'S ASS!

Is Febreeze still Febreeze if it comes out of a cat's ass?

*Said with a totally straight face* Would we actually survive a rain of flaming testicles right now?

Fortunately for the ships, my butt-crack tends to be fairly benevolent.

How did you find so many gay squirrels in that short amount of time?

Mmm… nothing quite like waking up to the smell of buttcrack and assorted detritus jammed into a restaurant booth cushion. Check, please.

You have a kink for being stuck in a big white satellite dish with flashing light beams while wearing an eyepatch and spanking a table? That's a very specific kink. I don't know if I can help you with that one.

Dude.... we live in an age where you can Google Map the precise location of your own anus!

How would you know? Have you fucked a lot of capybaras?

That's the most musical blowjob I've ever had!

And the juicer victoriously held the flaming metal buttocks over his head.....

*A few minutes later* Sorry, I'm a little occupied at the moment. I've got a flaming, assless metal buffalo in a headlock. Can I call you back later?

Why are you honking my daughter?

Poop and forward momentum..... Three words you don't want to hear in the same sentence.

Well what do you expect!? They were just tortured by an antelope! Of course they're traumatized! 

You may be strong but you are not impervious to TREES!

Ah yes. I remember it well, the great battle of Flame Crabs versus Sparkle Herpes.

Who the hell sucks on pizza? That's just.... wrong.

Q:Why are there pants in my mailbox?
A: I was mailing them to congress to express the notion that I am tired of being fucked with my pants on.

I wonder how many other people can honestly boast having fucked another dimension?

I didn't sneeze, I was trying to get rid of the submarine.

You groom me and eat my fleas and I will let you bang my ass.

IT'S LIKE EATING CHOCOLATE WITH MY SHOULDER! *rolling around on the floor*

Alright but don't start cleaning your ass in my ear, I hate when you do that.

I just used the vacuum to vacuum the vacuum in a vacuum.

When did Bilbo and Frodo stop being lesbian terrorists?

It's a little nub of minty wax… why am I reacting to it like its a penis?

Pierce his skull and drink him like a milkshake.

Fuck you, lettuce, sincerely, Bobbie Jean.

JESUS CHRIST, FLORIDA! WHAT THE !@#$%^&*!? WHY THE !@#$%^&* WOULD YOU DO THAT!? I mean really. Of all the places to put a !@#$%^&*damn snake…

My dick has heard every word you've said, FYI.

I would invite you two as witnesses but I don't want him masturbating near my wedding.

Me: So how did the bathroom get pregnant exactly?
RB: Jonathan.
Me: Ah. Yes. I now understand.

I eat rabies for breakfast.

I leave you assholes alone for like... what, two minutes? And I come back to find that you've got a goddamned gnome trapped in a fleshlight like an ice cream cone. Jesus Christ. You're like children!

Shakespearazine! Side effects may include dryness, redness, flatulence, histrionics, and involuntary iambic pentameter.

Sparkle Herpes II, the Reckoning: Itchy Blister Pants Apocalypse.

His pee smells like Spaghettios and videogames.

Boy, it's a good thing I had those ass-parachutes installed or I'd be a gonner!

Nobody forced you to pee on the evil!

Pardon me while I fart into that pumpkin over there.

It sounds like you're molesting an ostrich with jumper cables.

No. His balls would be soft like furry little gerbils.

*In the voice of a pirate* You'll just be sitting there, minding your own business, when suddenly… butt whales. No one ever sees the butt whales coming. Appear out of nowhere, they do. Butt whales… *stares grimly off into the distance*

You are using an ice pick made of iron to ironically remove a song about ice from your head.

How many hit points would a dick have?

His cock gets a damage bonus. COCKSLAP! Roll a D4+25% damage bonus.

I mean really, if you're going to assault someone with a jar of mayonnaise, you might as well go for one of the conventional targets like the head or the gut or even the ass! But the armpit!? That just makes no kind of sense.

I didn't know there was other naked flesh in the room.

To my knowledge, no one has ever been imprisoned for murdering a microwave.

Yes, I love Japanese food, especially when it's running away and screaming WE MUST FLEE THE CITY!

How many snowbirds can you fit in the head of a scud missile? I don't know but we must find out… FOR SCIENCE!

I'm more of a harpoonist myself. I've never liked diapers.

I cannot respect a thing until I have fucked it.

*shouted with great desperation* Ketchup is my life!

*shouted with great desperation* Purses are like ketchup!

Poor guy. He's suffering from Minotaur pattern baldness.

"Left butt cheek" is not a unit of measurement.

Coming! .......right in my pizza.

Gotta admire a grenade that has initiative.

I don't want to make a commitment but I don't want to not make a commitment… which may be the most noncommittal thing ever said in the history of ever. 

She kept slapping him in the camera with a fish like WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU!? WHY WILL YOU NOT TAKE MY OFFERING!?

It's basically global warming but with demons.

The éclairs are attacking! I knew it was them! Those bastards.

Danger is my middle name! …and Emergency Room is my last name.

Where there's three cocks, a will, and Jeff Goldblum, there's a way!

~~~
So, my good people of the interbutts, how are we all liking (or not liking?) FO4? I'm curious to hear what you guys have to say. I've seen a lot of mixed reviews. What are your thoughts?
Do any of you know if DA's written story/literature submission options have a word limit and if so, what is that limit? Like... say I wanted to submit a written story with 10K, 15K, or 20K words?
I jog for an hour every night at 9pm on the dot. I've been doing this for the past decade. Unfortunately, I have been stuck in Florida for the past decade... so yeah, suck. Major suck. I hate Florida. It's hot, muggy, buggy, rainy, full of TERRIBLE drivers, and it's also the lightning capital of the country. But I *rrreeeaaalllyyy* hate exercising indoors (probably because I am stuck indoors all day long, usually) so I suck it up and jog outside.

Last night, I couldn't go out at 9 on the dot like I usually do because it was raining pretty hardcore so I went out at 10 instead and to my great fortune, it was not raining! Yay. As I headed towards the "thank god, no cars, no people, no dogs" section of my jogging route, I came upon a woman talking to an old guy in a car parked in the middle of the !@#$%^&*ING ROAD with dogs EVERYWHERE. She had two dogs on a leash and he had TEN MILLION dogs in the backseat of his car.

I mmmmaayyyy have a not-so-slight deeply ingrained avoidance complex stemming from decades of harassment and bullying that began from the age of seven and followed me all the way up until I graduated college. So… yeah. If I can avoid people, I *very* much prefer to avoid people. I slooowwwwed wwwaaaayyyy down. Then I stopped. Then I knelt and pretended to tie my shoe. Then I pretended to tie my other shoe. Then I readjusted my hair tie as sloooowwwlllyyy as I could. Then I mulled over the option of turning around and exercising indoors. Then I considered cutting through the swampy tick, gnat, flea, mosquito, and alligator infested greenbelt to go around them... ANYTHING but having to get within ten feet of PEEEOOOPLLE. Highly abnormal, I know.

Well, they noticed my antics and started glancing over at me with worried expressions. 'Welp, the jig is up,' I thought. 'Might as well do ~that thing~ I spend 3/4s of my life trying to avoid.... interacting... with...... ppppeeeeeoooppple!' THE HORROR! So I started jogging towards them. For a very short chubster with a bad left knee, I can go pretty fast, especially when propelled by avoidance complex. AVOIDANCE COMPLEX POWERS ACTIVATE! SSSHHHOOOOOM! *sideways mushroom cloud*
 
I figured I could just zip on by, get it over with, ya know, like ripping off a Band aid. So I ran my big ass past them until they were out of eyesight which is the way I prefer other people to be. I'm fine with you, as long as I can't see you. If I can see you, YOU ARE IN MY PERSONAL SPACE. GET OUT BEFORE I BITE YOU. Unless I like you. Then you can stay and I won't bite you.... generally.

Just as I was making it to the free zone where no one treads but me, that car went whizzing past and the old guy gave me this look like I was an escaped mental patient shambling around in my underwear clutching a bloody axe. 'Ah well,' I thought, jogging along, 'I'll probably never see any of these ~peeeeeople~ again anyway. So, no matter.' That was what I thought… UNTILLLLL…..!

OF COURSE that !@#$%^&*ING WOMAN would walk her !@#$%^&*ING DOGS onto MY JOGGING ROUTE. YOU BITCH! HOW DARE YOU! This is MY TERRITORY! GET OUT or I am going to BITE YOU AANNDDD your STUPID LITTLE DOGS! I smiled politely and said "good evening." She will never know that behind my polite smile was seething anger and a sincere desire to launch her into a crater on Mars.

That was when she did THE UNTHINKABLE. *le gasp* "Excuse me, miss?"

NNNOOOO!!!! WHYYYYY!!!!???? WHY GOD, WHY!!??!?!? I HATE YOU!

"Can I ask you a question?"

So I took off my headphones, backpedaled a little, paused my MP3 player and waited for ~The Question~ .

"Sometimes I see you jogging out here and…" (at which point I'm thinking 'DAMN IT! I'VE BEEN SPOTTED! NOW I HAVE TO FIND A NEW JOGGING ROUTE! YOU BITCH! I HATE YOU. I HATE YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY. I HATE EVERYTHING YOU STAND FOR! FFFAACCCKKK!!!') "I notice that sometimes you stop and kinda do this thing…." She started pulling at herself and shaking her hands out. "If you don't mind my asking… what… is that? Is that some kind of a…?" She sounded really timid, apologetic almost, and very nervous, as if I might be dangerous. I think her dogs were picking up on it because both of them were staring at me like 'go ahead, bitch, make a move, I dare you.' I'm guessing the word she left out was "disorder" but who knows. The word could have been "tick" "condition" or "dance routine" for all I know.

I snort-giggled and said; "oh, no. I'm just trying to get rid of the invisible spider webs." It took me about three seconds of awkward silence to realize how utterly insane that sounded.

"Invisible… spider webs?"

"I mean.. uh… well, heh-heh…. (Aaaaaawwwwkkkwwwaaarrrdddd) I guess they're not really ~invisible~ but they're really hard to see. They float around through the air, especially at night, and especially after it rains. Haven't you ever felt like… a little string come across your face or get stuck on your arm?"

She stood there for a moment *staring* at me like I just shat on everything she ever loved and held dear. "I thought that was just hair?" She laughed nervously and started pulling at her hair.

I shook my head. "Nope. Afraid not. It's spiders. One of the many reasons I hate Florida. One time, I got hit right in the head with a big ol' clump of spider web. It was awful. All over my face and hair. I ran home, jumped in the shower, and seriously contemplated shelling out for a treadmill."

Her face went slack with shock as if I had just slapped her. "Are you sure it's.... that? I mean…" she started looking around like she expected a giant spider to leap out of the bushes onto her head. "Could it be something else? Like… plant…. Stuff... maybe?" She had this look on her face like 'please, dear god, let it be plant stuff.'

"Believe me, I wish it was. I'm not thrilled with the idea that there might be spiders crawling all over me."

WELP! That did it. She heel-spun exactly 180 degrees as rocket boosters emerged from her butt cheeks, fired up, and propelled her into the night sky shouting "NOPE, NOPE, AND AWAY!"

'Yaye! She's gone!' I thought. 'Now I can get back to my !@#$%^&*ING JOG!' I put my headphones on and ran along, not really thinking much about what had just happened aside from a brief internal argument over which I hate more; neighbors or spiders. My route is basically a big L that I run back and forth on. One part of the L brings me close to the backs of some houses. Sometimes I can see people inside but they aren't close enough to aggravate my avoidance complex, not unless they're swimming in their pools with all their lanai lights on, which, thankfully, they don't do all that often.

As I was jogging past that section a few minutes later, I heard; "SPIDERS, DAVID! FLOATING SPIDERS! I AM NEVER GOING OUTSIDE AGAIN." Mind you, I heard this *over the DUBSTEP I was listening to.* I stood there for a moment, waiting for more but that was it. I think I just ruined this poor woman's entire existence. Whoops? Sorry. On the upside, I know at least one neighbor who won't be invading my jogging route anymore. :P
Nice to know that even five years after having played a Silent Hill game, I can still awaken at 5:30 in the morning from a horrific movie-vivid nightmare in which, from the beginning, when I obliviously entered my dorm room, till the end, where after what felt like an eternity of running through dark hallways, climbing dark stairs, throwing myself into dark elevator shafts and pipeways filled with scuttling monstrosities, after glimpsing that distinct silhouette coming around so many corners, I succumb to a sense of great futility and anguish as I realize that there is no escaping the Red Pyramid except in death. Thereafter, I throw myself from the top story of a building, ending my misery on a rainy New York sidewalk.

He had finally cornered me in a stairwell. The door behind me was locked and there was no way past him. He came up the stairs with excruciating, deliberate slowness to draw out my tortured anticipation for as long as possible. When he finally came to greet me, he drew up his Great Knife, longer than I am tall, probably weighing about as much, and plunged it through the door behind me. He hesitated there and I heard unfathomable sounds from under his rusted hood- a lament of hell echoing through the void. He pulled his sword out slowly, metal screeching against metal like the shriek of some hellion beast.

'HAHA!' you bastard, I thought, reaching through the enormous gash and unlocking the door. 'You cannot have me.' I ran, almost gleefully, towards the edge of the roof and without hesitation flung myself off. Anguish and miserable futility became delight. I won. Wind roared in my ears as I plummeted to my demise, happy that I had not met the fate so many others had at the end of his sword. I suppose I was not really happy but satisfied. It was over- my struggling, the running, the fear, the dark- it was all over. Never again would I see that silhouette looming around the corner. Never again would I turn only to run right into one of his gibbering, crazed attendants. Never again would I know the fear of hearing the screech of his Great Knife dragging across the floor. Finally, I could rest.

As my fall neared its end and the curtains of my life drew to a close, the citygoers watched me plummet, their faces frozen in horror. None of them seemed to notice the tall, hooded, sword-bearer in their midst.



So yeah. I'm never going to sleep again. I don't know why my brain does this shit to me. I mean... really. What the hell?
Hi there, peoples of DA. I have some random probably a little bit bizarre questions that you may or may not be able to answer. Usually my Google-fu is pretty damn ace if I do say so myself but I was not able to ascertain the answers to these questions bubbling in my brain. Sometimes it helps to talk to people directly because YOU might know the right combination of words to throw at Google or you might even have all the information I need and just be able to tell me (if it's not too much of a bother).

I am NOT asking you to do my research for me. If you don't know, then you don't know. I mean, if you wanted to try your hand at Google-fuing these questions, that would be lovely but I'm not asking you guys to be my crackmonkey research team..... amusing as the idea of having a crackmonkey research team might be. :P I would just like to know if you happen to know these things or know where I can find decent, easily digestible information on them without having to read through an entire encyclopedia.

With all that out of the way, onto the random Jesus Christ I'm a weirdo questions:

1.)What would happen if I took a common composite rock and did the following:

Melt, high pressure, fast cooling. (Obsidian?)
Melt, high pressure, slow cooling. (Crystal?)
Melt, low pressure, fast cooling.
Melt, low pressure, slow cooling.
Melt, high pressure, instant/superfast cooling.
Melt, low pressure, instant/superfast cooling.

What would happen if you superheated rock then threw it immediately into a supercold environment?

What would happen if pressure changed during the cooling process from low to high or vice versa?

What would happen if cooling started slow and sped up or vice versa?

Has anyone ever done any experiments to see what would happen if certain chemicals or compounds were added to molten rock before the cooling process? Like.... what would happen if I added an acid solution or large amounts of bizmuth? Or talc, metal, glass, sand, diamond dust and on and on. (I know, I'm a fucking weirdo. :P)

Now if I did all that with, say, a quartz crystal, would the results be different? My guess (emphasis on the word guess) is that all this is just the rearranging of the same basic molecules so I imagine the results would not be different ultimately, ne?

Are there any other interesting circumstances you can think of that might produce different results? If so, feel free to share.

~~~

2.) What would happen if I took a very large amount of matter, like say, a half-ton of metal, and condensed it down to the size of a baseball? It would necessarily become more dense, right? But what else would happen? Would it become radioactive? Would it break apart once the condensing force relaxed? Would the effect be different if I used a half-ton of wood or plastic or rock or composite materials?

~~~

3.) If I burn a piece of pine and a piece of cherrywood into ash, will the ash be the same or would the resultant ash samples be different and if so, in what ways? Would you be able to tell the difference between volcanic ash, wood ash, plastic ash, or any other kind of ash? I imagine so but how?

~~~

4.) What happens if you burn ash? ಠ_ಠ Do you get more ash? Does it just get finer and finer until it turns into smoke? Is there anything particularly interesting that can be done with ash? Mix it with something else, create awesome effect?

~~~

5.) All those questions from question 1 applied to glass..... sorrryyy. I know, I'm a pain in the ass. XD

~~~

If you have any other thoughts related or any tangentially related thoughts, please do share. I'm interested in hearing people's thoughts and knowledge and wisdom on the matter. I don't expect to get too much in the way of answer but anything would be nice.
 
Typically, to describe such creatures that are primarily human in appearance but for a few animalian or bestial traits (such as fur, fangs, tails, and elflike or animal ears) I have always used the word "humanine." It is a word I invented to describe beings like this:

1.) bjpentecost.deviantart.com/art…

2.) bjpentecost.deviantart.com/art…

3.) bjpentecost.deviantart.com/art…

4.) bjpentecost.deviantart.com/art…

5.) bjpentecost.deviantart.com/art…

6.) bjpentecost.deviantart.com/art…

7.) bjpentecost.deviantart.com/art…

However, of late, the word "humanine" has come to sound clunky to my ears. I'm not sure why. Perhaps my tastes have changed but whatever the reason, my own word is falling out of favor with me. I've heard other people say I should just use the word "neko" but they're not really nekos. Nekos are very specifically beings who, at least to my eye, appear mostly human with kitty ears and sometimes a tail. I've never heard any other words that really seemed to fit well or weren't 90-letter-long Japanese terms so I just went with humanine.

What do you think of these possible alternatives: (If enough people say they like Humanine, then I'll keep it.)

1.) Lethani (lee-THAN-eye) Apparently this one is already taken and no, I was not aware. I literally made this one up on the spot as I was writing this journal. Ironically, auri is also taken and apparently it came from the same series as this one. That's one HELL of a funny coincidence since I have never been exposed Kingkiller Chronicle until this very night when someone informed me that lethani and auri are from that series. Ehck. I am bitterly amused.

2.) Humean (Hew-MAY-an)

3.) Anurah (An-YUR-ah)

4.) Humein/Humei (hew-MAY-in)/(hew-MAY)

5.) Anumei (an-oo-MAY)

6.) Humaeri/Humaeres (hew-MAY-ree)/(hew-MAY-rees)

7.) Rusai/Rusei (roo-SAI)

8.) Animean (ani-MAY-en)

9.) Aunine (aw-neen)

10.) Auri (aw-REE)


If you did not like any of these, what would you suggest?






 
I have been interbewed! Thank you, :icondmd-ct:, for the lovely compliments and fun interview. :)

Behind The Screens: Interview With BJPentecostHello, and welcome to another edition of Digitalists new interview series:

Behind the Screens: Digital Art Masters


Through these interviews, we will get an in-depth look into the minds


and careers of DeviantART's most influential digital artists.


Today's featured artist is BJPentecost
:iconbjpentecost:


 


Bobbie Jean Pentecost was born in 1983 in Newburgh, NY, USA where she lived most of her young life. Roughly thirteen years ago, she moved to Florida and has "been stuck in palm tree, snowbird, and mosquito hell ever since." Currently, she is a freelance-commission artist and has been for the past ten years. Occasionally, she works with traditional sculpture and painting but she is primarily a digital artist nowadays. She has worked for a number of private clients and sometimes she takes open commissions from non-private clients. Her "weapon


If you have any other questions, feel free to ask. :)