Go check out and add lurleene_love and deewayne_love. They're awesome. They're like retarded swamp cuzzins who love everything that's wrong, including each other. Go add them! They're going to start a Relationship Advice community very soon.

Ha!

Go join the_good_dollar. It's the right thing to do. Tell your friends and see if we can't make little differences.

Turn up your sound system to setting: VERY LOUD
Watch/dance
Be happy.

Thanks, Allen!!

[I can't stop watching/listening]

Okay, this update's mainly for my FaceBook crew, since a) a lot of my LiveJournal friends have mutinied and gone over the the facile side and b) a lot of my FB peeps are not on LiveJournal.

I moved to Austin on March 17th, actually north Austin, a town called Pflugerville. I'm about 15 miles north of Austin's downtown; about an hour and a half from hill country. For those of you who don't know, I moved down here for a change of mental and physical scenery, and my best friend Cate lives in the hill country. I blame her for a lot of this geographical decision.

I get out and see my friends Lian and Jarod, Cate and her family; last weekend I got to see Kat and Joe and Kylie from Houston. I'll be doing some mini-roadtrips to Houston and Dallas soon.

I've been drawing a LOT, the goal being to get into Austin's booming art scene. So far, I have some gallery interviews, but no shows lined up yet. I've done a couple of commissions and that's keeping the bills paid (somewhat). So yeah...I plug away at getting seen, do the art almost constantly and occasionally come up for air.

The last time I poked my head out into the sun, it was for a week-long capital murder trial, where Cate was the prosecutor. Dude is a baby-killer; she got him life in prison with no possibility of parole for a life-long birthday present. For a week, I was Cate's trial monkey, sitting in on every stage of the proceedings, going to lunch with her, picking lint off her suits and listening to every second I could take of what happened to this tiny six month-old. I'm proud to have been a part of sending that douchebag to prison.

Anyway, it renewed in me my desire to volunteer at Victims' Services, so I'll get on that next week. I might be looking for a "regular" job? I kind of hope not. Although I fervently miss someone else paying for my health insurance.

I date a lot...a lot of first dates, anyway. I am not unlike the protagonist in "Let the Right One In." Guys here are...Okay. Same as anywhere, I guess, except they say "y'all" and are now or have been a musician at one point.

So far, Pflugerville is a lot like Des Moines, or Orlando, or any other Big Box town. Not a lot of character; walks are boring, because there's no real town center, and not a lot of character. I'll probably move further south, into Austin-proper, once my lease is up here. Although I do love this apartment! It's got everything I was looking for, including a W/D and an obscenely large bathroom! The cats are happy with the balcony and fascinated by grackles.

I get to Kansas City at least every month and a half to hug my family; it's a really short, cheap plane ride.

I miss them a lot, but am really glad I made this decision.

The power went out last night intermittently due to thunderstorms, the last time lasting maybe half an hour? This turned my building into a block party, boom boxes coming out, people drinking on their balconies, pounding up and down the stairs laughing. Fucking weird. Also, till fucking 1 a.m. So I slept in a little only to be woken up by my phone, which has a ring tone AS LOUD AS THE SUN (since fixed) and "Great White Buffalo" in my head? What the everloving...What?

Get out, terrible Ted. Out. When has anyone EVER woken up with the Amboy Dukes in their head? I might has well have channeled Frank Marino and Mahogany Rush.

p.s.: "Pineapple Express" is hilarious.

Everybody gets these emails, but I had two, back to back, that had me laughing out loud:

"Attack your lady harder -- of punic" and "Sharpen your love-sword, but constitutionally".

I have no idea what the content is of either message, because it was enough for me to know that someone out there is priming his love-sword in order to attack me harder. Because shit! Who doesn't want that! A pointy pointy love sword comin' atcha!

Okay, off to court.

Do I have any EXTREME Mac wizards on my FL? I'm having this issue with my G4 Mac (OS X 10.5.6 (9G55)), where the Console stops responding and I'm unable to delete some very sizable (7 gigs) private/var/log/asl files. I've tried installing OmniDiskSweeper and I can *see* the logs, but I can't delete them. If I try to access them from the Console, it just runs and runs and no reports generate (it shows as non-responsive). I d/l'd TinkerTool System and ran Cache Out and Onyx, too, to no avail.

What the hell? From what I've read, these log files are useless, and I just have to tweak an update setting to get them to stop adding themselves over and over again until my disk is full, but in the meantime? They're just sitting there (the oldest one from February).

This is eating into my valuable pornography storage real estate! (I kid. Maybe.)

Go buy your mom (or A mom, or your mother-figure) something pretty at lu_shines's Etsy Store. Shit's amazing, and WAY UNDERPRICED (Carrie, I'm looking at you). Get in on it while she's still out of her gourd. Plus! Gift-wrapped, supports our home-grown artists, and the stuff's BEAUTIFUL.

Go do it. Don't make me go The Donna on your asses.

I'm disappointed at the number of my LJ friends who are either going the Twitter route or have eschewed this experience altogether in favor of Facebook or Myspace. It's not the same thing, and y'all know it. There's no real writing being done at any of those places, and if there is, it's all too easy to forego real interaction with a quick "Thumbs Up" or throwing a sheep at someone. What I value about this place is the depth of community, the real sense that people are reading from beginning to end, and actually caring about what you have to say, whether or not they comment every day. I appreciate the fact that were it not for LiveJournal, I'd have never met any of you folks, most of you in real life. Relationships that I still have today. I've never met anyone from Myspace or Facebook. Not one person. Oh, yeah. I probably friended them over there because I know them from here. Or they're related to me.

I miss your actual posts.

I hope this change is cyclical, like LJ does. That it's not a mass exodus to the shinier side of the internet.

I told Cate that leaving LiveJournal for Facebook is like going from the Champagne Room to Romper Room.

I don't know what to do!! My upstairs neighbor is in love with some band that sounds like Gogol Bordello threw up an Irish fetus and peed on it in a ditch, to the volume of VERY LOUD. And my downstairs neighbor is some kind of psychiatric patient requiring total silence! I'm trying to combat the evil with Eagles of Death Metal and Del Amitri, set to alternately loud, then medium (when the pounding starts) and going vaguely psychotic myself in here. The meat in the horrible sandwich of Pfluger-life. I hate you people!

Haahahahhahahaaaa!!!! "YEEEHAWWWW! WILDCARD, BITCHES!" "That'd be a waste of a perfectly good rape van."

I'm always stunned by my really, completely, awesomely talented friends who don't understand that they're talented. I'M A SNOB, MAN! I'm an art-educated, bitchy, fuck-you art snob. I'm a college-educated, high-IQ reader snob. I smoke crack and I vote! If I tell you your work is good, it's probably outstanding. SEE? SNOB. I know it. I own it.

Suck it up. You're the shit.

Lian gave me a button yesterday that says, "Shut Your Cock Holster." I'm going to proudly wear it to Cate and John's wedding. Right over my left nipple.

*********************************

p.s.: I love the show "Bones."

Brennan: Do you even know what superconductivity is?
Booth: I know it's better than normal conductivity.

I was in a conversation with C yesterday, and I asked her a question about someone..."Is she someone you admire, someone you would emulate?" And we went on from there, and somehow the conversation turned to sucking cock, as it inevitably does...

But I digress.

I got to thinking about the people I admire. Do I emulate anyone or have I emulated anyone?

I admire fighters. People who see the obstacles and go about overcoming them, struggling to make right what the universe has set asunder, whether it be personal or for the benefit of others. I admire fighters most if their fight is quiet, not bared for inspection from anyone around them, presented as though we don't ALL struggle and it's the hardship that makes one special. We ALL have travails; the measure of character to me is how doggedly a person pursues a resolution, and how that person comports themselves in the meantime. Could take an hour, could take years; the fight is what's compelling to me. Not the source.

I admire the faithful. Could be faith in God, or it could be faith in a tree branch. The object is not important to me, the fidelity is. It's a brand of optimism that's heartening to me; a certainty that doing right within one's heart will be rewarded in some measure; as simple as peace of mind or as monumental as the promise of everlasting salvation. That the world is a scary place, yes, but there's a reason for everything and your path is divine. Whether you were told that by God or a matchbook with "Days Inn" imprinted upon it does not interest me. The notion that ardor and allegiance in the face of adversity will certainly bring about change...that's what holds my attention.

I admire productive creativity. I don't have to personally enjoy a piece of art or a movement of music to appreciate the work that put it out there in the world. Even if I think it's CRAP, it's still out there. Real and whole. I treasure those most who have other pursuits in the meantime, say maintaining a full-time job, and still produce tangibly what's been percolating in their brains. It does no good to you, me or anyone if that novel is still sitting in your head, if that piece of sculpture is still just a sketch on the back of a napkin. I admire those people who understand and embrace that building a custom motorcycle, inventing a new recipe, coming up with a little ditty on your keyboard, designing your own house, decorating said house with flair, putting together an outfit nobody else would have dared to wear...those are all creative pursuits, and laudable.

I admire good parents. Anyone can pump out the DNA. Not anyone can raise a quality human. They don't even have to be your biological children; certainly the measure of a "parent" is contact and involvement. I really do believe that it takes a village. I am constantly floored by the sacrifices that good parents make solely to benefit mostly ungrateful children. Time, money, self-interest, sleep, quiet...all given away to one end: Making someone else the center of the universe for a time. Time enough to firmly put their feet under them, learn to make quality decisions independently and then go out into the world and pay it forward.

I have a few friends who possess all of these traits, some who possess a few. I consider myself lucky to know them, to be able to learn from them, even if they don't know they're teaching me.

*******************************

Tell me, who are your role models? Who do you admire and strive to be like?

I just shared with Cate that I'm turning into a girl, and it's Texas's's fault. Because I can wear cowgirl boots with anything! I don't have to wear high heels!

Evening gown? Black cowgirl boots.
Bikini? White cowgirl boots.
Naked? Seka cowgirl boots.

See?!

Sometimes, the shitty little iPhone camera takes really cool photos:

I look like I've zoomed in from another planet, just to say, "Howdy."

This is the first in what I hope will be many architectural renderings. I'm wooing some big architecture firms in Chicago, with a friend.

Click for large:

Samsel Architects
Biltmore Forest Renovation

I can't take credit for finding this. This is from the_enchalada. It's quite possibly what will bring me over to Jesus. I'm in love with Sexy Chest, Dinka Dinka, Big Glasses, and Rockin' Socks. My new God Squad.

Ummmmm, okay the following? Is a list of horror movies I've watched since the beginning of February (not including Asian horror...different list...I'll explain later).  I've been a bit-torrent whore.  I admit it.  Okay, maybe I don't.  This post is public.  I didn't download shit.  Anyway, I've been viewing based on reviews at this site:  Bloody Disgusting dot com. If it has more than 3-1/2 skulls (out of five), it's made after 2000, and I haven't seen it before? It may have landed in my Movie file for a short while. While I was away. Feds.

I think I might need an intervention.

The Abandoned: This surprised me. It was creepy and gory, but with lots of twists. Nobody wins when there're Russian doppelgangers. I'm just sayin'.
Abominable: Other than Dee Wallace dying right off the bat, nothing notable happens. I think I fell asleep.
Altered: Surprising and good.
An American Crime: Shouldn't be called a "horror," but in the end, pretty horrifying.
Anatomie: This was all jacked up, quality-wise, but seemed mediocre. It has the "Ran" chick starring.
Black Sheep: Really funny and gross!
Borderland: Mostly just gross.
Brain Dead (Dead Alive): This movie was supposed to be hilarious, but really just made me want to stab Rupert Everett in the neck myself.
Brotherhood of the Wolf: Titties and wolves. The most compelling character got killed halfway through, so I turned it off.
Cabin Fever (rewatch): It's so fascinating to me when she shaves her skin right off her leg that I can't stop rewinding it.
Calvaire (rewatch): This movie is so fucked up it defies adequate description by my measly vocabulary. Just watch it.  The French are truly frappe in the head.  In all the right ways.*
Cemetary Man:  I remember seeing this, but I don't remember anything else about it.  There were people, and talking and running and stuff.  That's about it.
The Chair:  I wish I had those two hours back.  I'd give myself an ingrown toenail on purpose; that'd be more fun.
The Changeling (rewatch):  This is just as scary as it was when I was a teenager.  Seriously.
The Cottage:  Finally!  The right bitch gets killed just the right way!
Cronos:  This is Guillermo del Toro's first film (I think), so I had to watch it.  It has the same old guy from "The Devil's Backbone," so I felt like an insider.  It's okay.  Nothing great. 
The Dark Hours:  This is...not right.  It's Canadian, so I'm giving them a handicap like you do in golf, and it's messed up in a good way, but there's something...It should have been better.  Much like America's hat.
Dark Remains:  Okay, I thought I saw this one but I didn't.
Dead Birds:  This was actually quite good.  Except I couldn't get past the sight of Henry Thomas "doin' it."  Come on.  It's Elliott from E.T.!
Dead End:  I actually didn't see the ending coming in this one, and for that I blame cough syrup.
Dead Man's Shoes:  Retard-baiting is handily dealt with by a brother with Gulf War syndrome.  This movie made me happy, in an Old Testament kinda way.
The Devil's Backbone (rewatch):  This movie is so beautiful and good and just...yum.  If you haven't seen it, I'm going to retard-bait you myself.
Dog Soldiers (rewatch):  This is hands-down the best werewolf movie around, and Sam Pertwee's guts are everywhere!  I love Sam Pertwee.  Pertwee.  Pertwee.
Donnie Darko (rewatch):  Okay, I'm going to confess.  I'd never seen the ending of this movie.  I'd never gone more than maybe 3/4 of the way through, with several tries...and for some reason, I just never saw the ending.  Now I've seen the ending. 
Feast:  I loved this movie so hard, that I had to see the next two.  Henry Rollins!
Feast II:  And then I did.  I've forgotten if this one had all the boobs?
Feast III:  And so I watched this one.  Lots of titties(?)
Frontiere(s):  Okay, I need to rewatch this one.  Because I d/l'd it, started watching it, had some sort of mental breakdown and deleted it before I was even halfway through.  Cough medicine? 
Hatchet:  This was stupid.  Nothing redeemable, except recognizing the English idiot from the Freddie movies.
*Haute Tension:  HOLY SHITCRACKERS.  The French are covered in le Sauce du Fucked.  I mean, on one hand, they're smart enough to use a great Muse song during one particularly ate-up scene.  On the other hand, the love interest is how you say, a butter face.  I appreciated the pure freak-out of finding out what I found out?  But come on, the supposedly hot chick made Amy Winehouse look like Grace Kelly.
*Inside:  More crazy French merde; this is BY FAR the most disturbing movie I've ever seen.  And I've seen everything.  Short of a non-stop apocalypse in real life right outside my window, I've witnessed just about every injustice man can serve to man (on film).  At least I thought so.  Sorry about the chopstick, Mom!  (Was that a chopstick?  I've watched the film like four times now, and I can't figure out what the fuck...it was the bathroom drawer...Just watch it.)  The movie is beautifully shot, dark and misty with a patina of cream...There's one scene that actually made my entire body break out in goosebumps, it was so eerie. 
Insanitarium:  Meh.  I don't feel like reviewing anymore tonight after "Inside."  That movie kicked all kinds of ass.

That's about the halfway point.  For some reason, horror movie names really start petering out at about the "J" point.  Heh, I said "peter." 

I'll do the rest ( tomorrow. )

My first Texas storm...errrrr, remarkably similar to a Midwest storm.

That's HAIL, bitches!

I love you, Helmet, so very very hard.

catelin and I are turning into crotchety old bitches, and frankly, we don't care what anybody thinks about it. We were just on the phone discussing LJ and how there are a certain few people (few for me, dozens for her) that just make you want to punch them in the tits and tell them to grow the fuck up. I've created a special filter for those of you I don't necessarily want to hurt (today)! I took the filter off. If you don't like the post, take me off your FL. No biggie. Not to me, anyway.

• If you can't make your rent, or you're in real danger of losing your job and living in a cardboard box, how can you justify getting a tattoo with what could be grocery money? I know tattoos are expensive. I know how many boxes of mac & cheese a lousy star costs, let ALONE a fucking "piece." How dare you get on here where all your sycophant friends can tell you how you're still doing the right thing, the next time you talk about Chapter 11.
  
• If you're seriously so tired and sick and just can't feel better* and you don't have health insurance? Get to a free clinic or even the ER. They'll see you. They'll even give you free medication. You've probably run from a multitude of bills; what's one more? I've done it. I've paid most of them back by now, but yeah, when I was sick? I went to the doctor. And kept on working.
  
• After you get some health care either go get a motherfucking job at McDonald's or get serious about your own business, whatever it is, and stop fucking WHINING. Christ. If your apartment is too expensive, move to a cheaper one. If your car is too expensive, start taking the bus or carpooling. If your lifestyle is beyond your grasp? Downscale your lifestyle and tell us about the sacrifices you've made to still be secure and have what's important, like say, electricity. That's compelling reading. Not about how your Lexus broke its right nut and you'll have to forego that trip to Australia for two more weeks, because your fifth credit card hasn't come in the mail yet.
  
• That said, if you're working right now? Consider yourself lucky and shut the fuck up about how tedious your work is. Because to me? You're telling me how tedious it is to still be making your mortgage and having health insurance.
  
• Also re. work? If you think I don't work, come sit in my house for a day and see what I go through to make art, make sales, keep my own lights on and myself fed. I put in an average of 12 hours a day, every day, just to keep my meager lifestyle afloat. I know I could make more money with less hours working a "straight" gig. This is the choice I made. I'm comfortable with it. I work my balls off. I like it this way.
  
• Also re. money? If you can afford to eat out a couple of times a week, I don't want to hear another motherfucking word about how you can't afford new clothes, too. I haven't eaten out in a restaurant that wasn't on a date that paid for me, too, in maybe six months? Know the last new piece of clothing I bought that wasn't at the Salvation Army or on sale at Target? When I moved to the mainland from Hawaii, seven years ago. Go buy a couple of bags of groceries and eat in for a couple of weeks and then you'll be able to afford that new skirt. Simple!
  
• Re. sobriety? If you're a newbie (under two years) and I hear ONE MORE TIME about how your life's so hard and just this one bottle of wine won't hurt and maybe a couple of tabs of X won't bring that much havoc, you don't get to consider yourself at anything other than "Day One" after that little "slip." Then Day Two. Because you know what? I've put together 2692 days. In a row. I didn't take little breaks here and there when life got hard. Real sober people don't. I don't begrudge you being a drinker or a drug user, but don't call yourself "sober." It's a slap in the face to us sober people.

*One of my biggest beefs: Blaming lethargy, depression, lack of motivation, emotional distress, sleeplessness, helplessness, hopelessness, sleep apnea, heartburn, joint pain, headaches, skin problems, attention deficit, and your goddammed painful big toe on anything other than the fact that YOU'RE PROBABLY OVERWEIGHT. Lose some weight. Know how? Stop eating like you're 20. You're not. I'm not a pillar of healthcare management, but when I was diagnosed with an immune deficiency that was life-threatening? My symptoms started to mysteriously disappear when I dropped 45 lbs. I've got friends on here with cancer; stop complaining about your lame-ass "Oh, I just can't refuse another piece of cake...WHY AM I SO FAT" nonsense. Stop eating so much. Turn down that piece of cake. Take a walk. Drink more water. It's not rocket science**.

It's common sense, all of this bullshit. Why should anyone need reminding? Were we raised badly and just cannot break out of the rut? Stand up and go fold your laundry. Go pick up an extra shift at the button factory. Go volunteer at a local church or food pantry. Go hang out with some actual poor people who would love to know what it's like to have the luxury of CHOOSING TO BE FAT.

**Regarding the fat rant? I know it's hard. I also know it's done by people every day. You choose to start living like a non-fat person, just like I chose to start living like a sober person. You choose. Every goddammed day, you choose. It's just a matter of lining those days up in a row, every day lived with the right choices, choices made with integrity.

It all boils down to integrity. Either you've got the stones to make it in this hard world with your soul intact or you don't. Choose.

**sigh**

I think Texas is already really good for me!

So...I'm finally online! I actually managed to stump my service provider, Belkin, and Apple with the problem, and then after FIVE HOURS fucking with it last night, and FOUR HOURS fucking with it this morning, I built all my Ikea furniture, put the monitor up on a table, and jacked with yet ONE MORE THING. And now it works!

I think it's the pretty table that fixed it.

Pictures later!

Oh, and my hot water got fixed yesterday afternoon, and I was so relieved all I could think was, "Fuck the bath, I want a shower. Fuck the bath, I want a shower." And so I got all nekkid and got all my accoutrement together and could NOT PUSH OR PULL THE FUCKING DRAIN JOBBIE INTO SHOWER MODE. So I had to take a bath. It was bitter.

But the maintenance dude came back just now and fixed the shower doobie-jobbie and now I'm a-showerable.

Ow my balls.

...I live in Texas.

Short story short, it's hot, I'm beat, I just dropped $400 at Target for essentials, including the world's smallest bathmat. Why O' Why did I not open it at the store?

I'm jacking wireless internet again. Ask me if I give one shit. A scientific analysis by me: All linksys users (who I do not personally know and like) are idiots. If you are a linksys user whom I personally know and love, lock your shit down and we shall never speak of it. Tomorrow, my Grande guy comes and gets me my own screamin' fast connection.

Also, the van is still full, divested only of my overnight clothes, cat stuff and Target bags. Everything else is waiting until the morning (or this evening, if I rally) when it is not almost 80 degrees. Again, with the not caring thing. I'm in a gated complex, and the van has tinted windows. If people want my dago T's and paint brushes, they can fucking have them.

The cats were so friggin' good! They didn't mess their carrier; they didn't cry; they didn't whine. Turns out they like hotel living.

Also, the Pastor's wife had a stroke on Sunday morning; she's expected to recover fully. They got her to the hospital in time for the clot busters to really make a difference. The last time I moved away from Kansas City, my Mom got diagnosed with breast cancer the next day. Coincidence? Or KISS OF DEATH DONNA. I think the latter.

I'm so tired I could throw up. Oh, that's right: I DID. Fucking nerves.


OH MY GOD MY FIRST CUP OF COFFEE IN MY BRAND NEW COFFEEMAKER TASTES LIKE FREEDOM. It really does.

I'll respond to everybody's LJ responses and emails when I'm a little less brain damaged.

I've been to church to work in the food pantry, came home and made three pans of lasagna, vacuumed the house and cleaned the bathrooms, in preparation for the Pastor coming over in a little bit for late lunch.

In the meantime, this has been amusing me GREATLY: When the retarded have internet access, nobody wins. A community stir-up, hosted by me.

Be a part of history...track what the government's spending our money on: Recovery Dot Gov. Go. Join. Participate.

Help me get to Austin!!

BLOW-OUT ART SALE!!

www.illustrationink.net

ANY ORIGINAL LINE WORK (including line/multimedia): $350

(Specify)

**************************************************************************
ANY ORIGINAL STIPPLE WORK (including stipple/multimedia): $750

(Specify)

***************************************************************************
ALL PRINTS: $65

(Specify)

FREE DELIVERY! Please specify which piece of art from this page or this page, make sure I have your mailing address and PRESTO! Gorgeous, original art by me. No, I'm not humble about it! The stuff's cool!

(Please pardon the different site designs...It's still undergoing renovations. Thanks!)

(bubblemonkey...your stuff's on its way here; please email me your mailing address!!)

I was just at Conoco, buying a pack of smokes and walked in to a conversation between the two clerks and a male customer that involved something about one of their mutual friends having just come off a jail hitch for his fourth DUI and how he'd just been in to celebrate his release with the purchase of a fifth of Jack.

Customer: I just got off a three and a half year hitch for my fifth DUI. Jail schmail, it wasn't nothin'. Am I right? No Jail Can Hold Me!
Clerk: Um...
Me: It's good to have hobbies! Yay drinkin'!

AND ANOTHER THING. .65 tax on cigarettes for a healthcare blahblah for kids? WHAT THE HELL? Seriously, WHY? Kids don't smoke. I don't have kids. Where is the connection between my nicotine addiction and some random kid in Berkley, California's HMO? Why the hell should my one measly vice be vilified as the be-all and end-all of health dangers?

Why isn't there a new .65 tax on sugar?
Why isn't there a new .65 tax on alcohol?
Why isn't there a new .65 tax on anything with fat in it?

Those factor just as largely into the unhealthy style of living, cancer-causation, and drag on the insurance industry as fucking tobacco does.

But NOOOOOO, gotta get a reformed smoker into the White House. I'm going to start mailing him smokes. "Dear Barack. We've MISSED you. You know you've missed us. Come kiss us. Just a little. It won't hurt. Clean up good so Michelle doesn't kill you. Baaaarrraaaaaccckkkk..."

**sigh**

Okay, here's the quandary, conundrum, rub...My folks have quite the prodigious coin collection. We're talking maybe 10,000 coins total. I spent more than a week a couple of summers ago with a valuation book, the internet, and a magnifying glass valuing what I *thought* was the entire collection. Yesterday I found three more large cardboard boxes FILLED with coins, most collectible.

The problem is this: Do I spend the next couple of weeks valuing this collection myself, spending probably hundreds of hours going through every item, then listing the collection on eBay? Do I call a professional and have the collection evaluated by them for a percentage? My problem with the latter solution is this: I don't trust them. What if there's a $5000 coin in there, or ten of them...what's to stop a "professional" from telling me the collection is worth XXX and it's really worth YYY?

What should I do? Choose from below, or tell me something I haven't thought of, PLEASE!


Poll #1342939 coins
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All

What to do with the coin collection?

I just put up a Craigslist ad for pews for sale from the church I work for, Bridge of Hope Community Church in Kansas City, Kansas. They're really very cool.

Proceeds are not for profit. Any money raised will go directly into stocking our Food Pantry, because donations have been slim for food, but great for our Clothing Bank. We're hoping for $75 per 9' section, but Best Offers will be considered. Any "donation" made towards your acquiring a pew are tax-deductible; receipts will be issued reflecting that. (We're working on becoming a Harvesters Pantry, but are not there yet; a lot of paperwork/approval to be accomplished first.)

Thanks for any interest!



x-posted to kansascity.

Christ, I just heard an Eagles of Death Metal Song for the new show, "Lie to Me" with Tim Roth. Tell You Anything 'cept the Truth. Josh Homme is fucking EVERYWHERE. "True Blood," "CSI: New York..." Good work, man.

I'm watching the parade, and Michelle Obama is so lovely it makes my heart ache a little. The fabric of her dress and coat! They make me want to be a princess! So gorgeous and glamorous and tasteful and YAY!

Friggin' cool...

Just move your cursor across the screen. (Click for different colors.)

Wanna see something REALLY sick? About 10x10", I got a hair up my ass to make concentric circles. It took surprisingly less time than you'd think, and way more than a normal person should have wanted to devote to it.




Detail:



I spent almost 22 hours yesterday finishing "K9." I made myself sick, drawing too much, too closely, but I got it done. ( K9 Final under cut. )

This is about 3/4 finished, a commission for a K9 guy. Those guys are nutty about their dogs, man.

Anal-retention, where the rubber meets the road.

Click x3 for sick detail:

Ha! Haahahahahaaaa!

I put up my Christmas tree today:



It's ( ENORMOUS! )

If you're unsure about what to get ANYONE for the holidays, go to any page of the Esperanza en Acción website and look at the art, pottery, sculptures, pine needle craziness. It's INSANELY priced and it benefits an organization that my good friend chachachana supported selflessly for years and years before coming back to the States. Seriously good work. I have one piece of pottery that I treasure so highly that it's the first thing I wrap up and move when I move, and several of the pine needle pieces that make me almost weep, they're so painstakingly crafted and lovely.

Go! Buy! Support Nicaraguan artisans and Fair Trade! Esperanza en Acción.