Amorphous Blobman

     This one went a little better, I think.  I'm trying to not be so fucking lazy, really.  I still have a lot to work on but this is a clear improvement over the last strip.  Behold:

     Blah blah blah, deformed hands the the suggestion of feet.  Still in the habit of drawing things at sizes that don't work very well here, but I'm thinking I might try using Illustrator instead of Photoshop so I can use the vector drawing tools.

     I'm sure names aren't all that important at this point, but the one with the pompadour is Bob(bert) Adobbo, and the fat guy is Aaron M. Blobman, or Morphus.  I need to stop posting these so late at night. 

Stealth Led Zeppelin references

     Something something obligatory "hue hue holidays am I right?" joke.  After Remembrance Day I'm mostly catatonic until the new year, leaving my room long enough to go to work and take maybe 3/5 of my required bathroom trips.  I did manage to do some other things though.  After the last update I wanted to try slapping together in a simple comic strip format.  I used to make shitty ms paint comics all the time, and if Reddit is any indication, people are still in the habit of making atrociously terrible ms paint comics.

     There's a lot about slapping together a readable comic strip that I just plum forgot.  I'm the kind of guy that has to step on the rake 30 or 40 times before I make the connection that it's going to smack me in the face, and even then there still isn't that much hesitation.  The biggest problem I have, paradoxically, seems to be effort.  Well, not effort, so much as detail.  I've been binging on Three Word Phrase by Ryan Pequin (he works on Regular Show, which, heck yeah), and the most striking thing about it is the relative simplicity of the art.  Not that he isn't like a million times better at arting than I am, it's just that very simple looking Kate Beaton/Pendleton Ward style that's huge right now.  Even if you don't count the art itself, there's just little things about comic format that don't occur to you until it's maybe too late.  Here, look at the four panels individually, and then see what happened when I tried to smoosh them together. 

     I had this idea a while ago I call "Shitty Wizards".  The Harry Potter books/movies are fun but who can identify with the popular jock, the popular smart girl, or the popular ginger? None of us, we're all fat jerks.  We can identify pretty hard with the kids that hang out by exit 6 smoking all day, though.  Hogwarts must have had at least some of those. 

     It's all photoshop seams up in here.  I hope it doesn't take another year and a half to get a little good at drawing backgrounds, because someday it would be cool to have well designed and coloured sets as a backdrop for the easiest possible fart jokes.

The man lied.

      Hell yeah, I am a pro at angry dejection.  All in good fun.

     You know what, looking at it now, the sloppiness is pretty endearing.  It's like the backwards E on a child's lemonade stand, or if my name was followed by "age 8". 

     It's still pretty difficult for me to draw someone twice without making them look totally different.  Photoshop cheating is the best.

     Enough detail was lost that the reference I made in the book in the first panel wasn't legible.  To make up for this after the fact, I just jammed it in to the last panel pretty blatantly.  It sort of makes it look like he was just reading the liner notes for IV at the time, which is something I bet 16 year olds don't really do anymore.

uh well uh anyway I'm not good at goodbyes so

No sugar tonight, in my tea

     I guess it's time to up my game a little bit, then? When I draw faces/heads they're actually looking something like faces/heads, so according to the rules I've set for myself, I have to try something harder.  Even some of the bodies I've been doing lately haven't been the worst, but don't worry, it gets bad again.

     I figure the next step would be actual scenes, meaning still people and such, but in places rather than the endless white void of photoshop.  As it turns out, I'm not so great at scaling things down or placing them in proper perspective yet.  Well, whatever, it isn't as bad as an update I did a little over a year ago, my first attempts at perspective/location. 

     For these, I decided to try and illustrate a few moments that are hazy and vague for me, soaked in booze and THC,  but still burned deep into my brain by the sheer silliness.  These are mental snapshots of one Saturday night in February 2003,  very similar to many others but set apart by the conclusion.  I suppose these won't carry much meaning to most of the people looking at them, just like any anecdote a person relates about their craaaaaazy youth that is utterly mundane and completely similar to those of everyone else. 

 

     I'm pretty happy with this face.  I find the emotion of disgust easier to draw than any other, and that's probably related to how many times I've elicited it from people.  I'm sure this waitress was a very nice and reasonable person, and it didn't even need to be thought about in retrospect to know we were just not fit to be out in public.  Not to take all the blame though, my drinking companion that night was a consummate professional at getting way too fucking drunk and being removed from establishments.

 

  

     So clearly the faces suffered hard on this one, and yeah, the building isn't that great.  My attempt at making a brick outer facade turned out more like the rubber room at a looney bin.  Which I guess we would have absolutely deserved.  Anyway, yeah, the drawing suffered a little overall here.  Architecture is still pretty daunting to me, but hopefully that will get good enough soon.  Any reasonable human being would have called it a night at this point, but we were Nova Scotians in our early 20's, reasonable wasn't even on our radar.

 

     I think this one turned out a bit better.  Every time I walk past this alley I get a little nostalgic twinge.  Not in a good way, really, but it does make me smile.  Whenever I see a bum sleeping it off there, I hope a little bit of the spirit of that night makes it into his dreams.  I wish I was taking creative license with these drawings, but I'm cursed with this memory that haunts me with every dumbass, embarrassing thing I've ever done or said.  In fact, I could probably produce a huge series of the terrible ideas and poor party form that defined my early twenties.  

     So, please, if you take anything from this, hopefully it will be that I am not a person to be emulated.  Use me to scare kids away from drinking and long hair.

It's chocolate ice cream

     Oooh, you weren't expecting another update so soon, were you? That's my trap, I "trick" you into thinking I'm a lazy asshole, but now and then I follow a left jab with a right hook.  After some more boxing analogies, you are left confused, maybe a little sleepy.  That's the perfect time to show you this.

 

     This was the first one.  I can't stop drawing pictures of myself from when I was in my late teens/early twenties.  I feel like if you could come up with an image to represent the "internet generation", whatever you came up with would be very similar to this if you were being honest.  I'm sure this genre of person has always existed in some capacity, but the internet made it viable.  I made myself a little sad with this one, I wasn't expecting to put so much disappointment into that poor woman's face.  

     I was surprised at how quickly it came together.  Maybe an hour or two of work? That probably sounds unimpressive, but for me it's unheard of.  If I'm getting to the point where I can draw a few people in a reasonable time frame, maybe I'll actually be able to draw backgrounds that aren't just perspective lines, and as long as I'm dreaming, maybe I could overcome my crippling inability to colour.

     Middle child syndrome.  Whenever I'm satisfied with an initial drawing, I get the second one started with just the highest hopes.  This means I'm literally not capable of being happy with it.  Not that I think this one is particularly bad, I just couldn't make it work as what I originally wanted it to be.  At least my hands are getting less atrocious.  That's a left-hook fist if I ever saw one, and I have to say I'm surprised with how much I like the eyes.  Big enough to be expressive without being a pile of weeaboo anime bullshit.  On reviewing these, I think I overuse some poses, and am going overkill on certain perspectives.  I'm trying to be a little more creative with what I can do, which led to the third drawing-

      Not that what I've been drawing so far has been photo-realistic, but I hadn't done much exploring of cartoony exaggeration.  This took me almost no time, like I'm talking in the fifteen minute range here.  Again, probably not that impressive, but something like this would have taken me days a few months ago.  Now that I can actually draw faces/expressions, I might be ready to start making animation again. 

    
     So until next time I guess, this is me in real life.

Well now I'm even more confused

     I've been bumbling my way through some more Adobe programs lately.  Mostly Premiere, the video editing software, with a little After Effects on the side.  They're both fun as shit to use, and when I get better at using them I hope I can crank out some fun stuff.  After Effects even has green screen capability, which could blow things wide open if I made that happen.  Of course, I still think there's a lot of learning to do before I actually start dropping real money on things.  Creative hobbies can get pretty goddam expensive, and you don't even get adorable little costumes like the guys that do model trains get to wear.

     I made a few tutorial videos for a video game with the help of Premiere.  You might notice the horrible sound quality.  I tried using a different mic than I had used to make the earlier cartoon projects.  This mic was a condenser microphone, and those usually have a better reputation for voice recording than the dynamic mic I had been using.  Unfortunately, that seems to have been the wrong choice to make for this.  Although, since I'm getting better with Adobe Audition, I was able to salvage it a little.  As hissy and weird as it sounds now, you should have heard it at first. 

     The game is called Dwarf Fortress, and I should tell you right away, I completely understand if you don't watch these videos all the way though, if you even watch them at all.  It's one of those games that I'm really into because it's difficult, complicated, unforgiving, and unpredictable.  The graphics are ASCII (a Sanskrit word meaning "ugly like troll taint") but if you don't mind tedious computer work you can find user-created tilesets that make it look less like ass.  Long story short, I recommend this game to people often, but it doesn't have a learning curve so much as it has a learning cliff.  Maybe I'm just the kind of person that enjoys pointless challenges, but it's so far up my alley it's tripping over stray cats. 

     So, yeah!  There's that.  No drawings for this update because for the life of me, I couldn't find my friggin stylus.  It eventually revealed itself, so I think I'm going to be doing some more of that over the next few days and hopefully will have an actual, entertaining update up within a week or so.  Until then, you always have the option of downloading Dwarf Fortress (it's free) and learning a completely useless skill.  Until next time,

farts,

me.

A grumpy old creature of habit

     That was a lot of months.  I didn't do a whole lot of anything for a while because I get skittish when it's time to move.  Now that I'm settled into the new home and replaced all the shit my dumb ass broke in the move, I started back up. 

     For a minute I thought I was going to end up doing a bunch of pictures of complaining about the heat, because that's certainly something I've never done before.  I decided not to, but don't worry, I still have a deep well of non-creativity to tap and managed to make some more drawings of overweight men. 

     Speaking of non-creativity, looking at these after I drew them makes me think I'm crossing that boundary of "inspired by" into "plagiarism" with regards to Will Laren  Here they go in some kind of order:

     So, please allow me to explain what happened here.  Two months of not practicing takes a toll, as you can see.  Also, I'm still sort of incompetent with Photoshop.  I keep hitting buttons without realizing I hit them, and then not knowing what settings I changed.  Still having trouble making perspective work, that's one shitty leg/foot combo on the left.  My greatest failure with this image is that I couldn't get the mullet to be as kickin rad as I wanted it to.

          This is loosely based on my previous Halloween costume.  I like this one more than the last one, it came together much more easily. 

     This one I am most proud of/embarrassed by.  Only proud in the sense of I figured out a few things about Photoshop, embarrassed at how simple those things are and how long this took.  As far as the actual drawing goes, I do think it's slightly better than what I've done so far.  With the exception of the Liefeld claw-hand and the general noisiness of the image, I'm pretty pleased with it.  I think I'm drifting into some kind of pseudo Simpsons/Family guy character style, that isn't really on purpose but I think just a side effect of the way I've been drawing mouths.  As far as what this picture is about, it's a depiction of what I figured my life would be like in my early 20's, as imagined by 19 year old me getting ready to move to Halifax. 

     So I'm going to try to not let it slip so much.  Not that anything is really hanging in the balance, but I could swing dangerously close to being that kind of asshole I talked about in one of the first entries, all "durr hey check out my blog oops I'm bored of it."

     Uh, bye.

I don't really know what to call this one

     I've been thinking about what to talk about in this update for a while.  I had an idea of what I wanted to say, but I'm not a big fan of talking about myself on this level.  Something about shouting your innermost oddness into the wilds of the internet was never something I understood, and it's not something I plan on doing very much of, but for the sake of stretching out a little bit, I'm going to to take a shot at it. 

     Let me preface this by saying that if you aren't interested in reading my aimless ramblings about my many, many psychoses, I understand completely and suggest you skip down past this wall of text and get to the hilarious drawings I have provided for you.  I also want to point out that what is to follow contains one of the most annoying things on the internet: self-diagnosis of a psychological problem.  What I'm about to talk about isn't something that a medical professional has told me, and I have nothing even resembling medical training.  You would be completely justified in lumping my opinion in with Jenny "well of course vaccines cause autism!" McCarthy and dismissing it as hard as you can.

     For most of my life, I've been a walking trainwreck of anxiety.  There was always something of it there, but it really started to get out of hand when I was about nine years old.  I've always had difficulty in large crowds, but something changed and an extra-thick layer of difficulty got added to my day to day issues.  I'll go into the events that triggered the change in a moment, but first let me tell you that I recently learned there is a name for the problem I have.

Misophonia. 

     Quite literally, "hatred of sound".  An intense, unreasonable emotional reaction to specific sounds.  I even recognize that the feelings I get are unreasonable.  The logical part of my brain tells me that I shouldn't feel the way I do at the time, but try getting the rest of my brain to cooperate.  Honestly, up until I saw that this wasn't just me being an unreasonable asshole, and that there are other people going through the same thing, I was angry at myself.  I never understood why I couldn't just calm down, like people kept telling me to do whenever I brought it up.  I don't know how many grown men you've seen weep, but for about an hour after discovering I wasn't the only one, I don't even know how to describe how I felt.  I mean, people aren't usually happy to realize they may have a psychological disorder, but I'll take that over just being a petty asshole any day.

     I still have extremely vivid memories of how it all started.  I was in grade 4.  A classmate sitting to my immediate left, let's call him "Bauhaus", developed a wet, repetitive snort.  When I say snort, I mean *SSKKKNNNNNNRRRRRRRRX*.  When I say repetitive, I literally mean 3 or 4 times per minute.  After a few weeks it really started to wear on me.  I confronted him.  "Bauhaus", I said, "could you try to cut back on the snort?" He got defensive. "I can't, if I don't it's going to drip out all over my desk." "Well then, could you blow your nose?" "That won't work, it's packed too tight."  It was at this moment that I first started having the thoughts.  The thoughts are expressions of rage in my head, and they get really fucking raw.  "Moron," I thought. "You can't have it both fucking ways, either it's so loose it's about to drip out, or it's so tightly packed that it's not an issue.  Learn to use a fucking tissue you stupid asshole." 

     The snorting continued throughout the school year.  Sometimes the anger would build up enough that I would start crying.  Any time I tried to talk about it I got dismissed.  The combination of the feelings the sound made me have coupled with nobody taking me seriously was horrible.  When the school year finally ended, I had never been so relieved in my life.  How terrible, then, that when I returned after the summer to start grade 5, I immediately noticed several of my new classmates were in the business of sniffling with a similar frequency.  The same anger, the same dismissal, and the beginning of the rest of my life.  Over the course of the next few years, there was one lesson I learned over and over again;  emotional honesty causes more problems than it solves.  I know that it's unhealthy to hold emotions in, and everyone talks a big game about letting them out, but every time I tried to tell someone it resulted in a)getting screamed at b)being told to stop being such a baby or c)the person thinking it would be really funny to make the noise even more to "annoy" me.  Let me tell you something; I would fucking kill for it to just be annoying.  If it was just annoying, I could deal with it.  It's enraging.  Not just enraging, but "I'M GOING TO BITE YOUR FUCKING NOSE OFF AND SPIT IT BACK IN YOUR IDIOT FACE" enraging.  Which brings me to my next link.

     The Activation Scale - When I first read about what misophonia was, I was at least a little skeptical that it applied to me.  That went away to instant I saw this scale.  I have been all the way up to level 9.  I've never been to 10 because as much as I get enraged, I don't think I have it in me to hurt people that way my brain is screaming at me to.  I want you to understand, I'm not saying this in a "ha ha man I get mad at stuff lol" kind of way.  I'm saying the urge that fills my body is "CAVE THIS FUCKING IDIOTS FACE IN WITH A CLAW HAMMER".  I'm being completely serious in saying I've had to leave rooms or take other measure to keep myself from exploding in a screaming fit at people.  As a kid it was common for me to scream into a pillow, cry, or just hit inanimate objects, because the pain distracted me for a while.  High school was terrible.  My ability to focus got worse and worse, and by the end of grade 12 my marks had dropped noticeably.  And then, the horror that was university.  Imagine going from 30 people around you driving you crazy, to a lecture hall of 200 people, none of them having the faintest idea of how a kleenex works.  While I have much more of a handle on it these days, I still hit level 9 maybe once or twice a year.  For instance, one time riding the bus (nightmare), a woman in front of me had a dry, repetitive sniffle.  "Ok, no problem" I thought. "Just put the old headphones on and-" The headphones had broken moments earlier.  Panic set in immediately.  I must have looked like a complete weirdo, because my ultimate solution was to put my fingers in my ears and hum.  This is because my brain was telling me to grab her fucking ponytail and yank so that her head would wang off of the metal bar. 

     I don't like feeling like this.  I don't even like the idea of hurting people, especially for things they don't even know are tremendously enraging.  So imagine how things went when I found out that getting intoxicated really, REALLY helped me deal with it.  I live in Nova Scotia, so it doesn't seem all that out of the ordinary if you're drunk all the time, or high all the time, or doing whatever other thing people in economically depressed regions do to get through the work week.  These old bones can't handle that kind of inebriation anymore.  I am really lucky, however.  I managed to land a job that allows me to wear headphones and listen to music.  That's an averted disaster, because there's a guy at work who routinely makes a noise that sounds like he's drowning in sandpaper. 

     Even as I'm typing this I'm trying to psyche myself out of posting it.  Like I said, the main lesson I've taken from this situation throughout my life has been "don't tell anyone about it".  I imagine it can be frustrating for people around me because trying to get a gauge of how I really feel about something/someone is like pulling fucking teeth.  It's gotten to the point where I'm not even trying to keep it in anymore, it just won't come out.  No words solidify in my head, my mouth won't open, and I stand there pissing off whoever is trying to ask me a genuine question.  Every day requires that I brace myself mentally and take a lot of steps to distance myself from it as much as I possibly can. 

     At the very least, I've developed some super powers from this.  I've listened to so much music that I have the amazing ability to snidely mock those with less developed taste.  "Oh, you're into (band)? Heh, that's cute."  Small instances of dickery keep me sane and make me look cool.  Try it, it's fun!



     Ok, so that wasn't very funny.  Now on to the joviality. 


     I still haven't quite landed on a consistent style.  I do think it's getting closer though.  I'm starting to get to the point where I can visualize something and then try to draw it.  Up until a few months ago I couldn't do that in any meaningful way.  It's still not turning out 100 percent the way I imagine it to, but it's getting less horrible every time.

      I know ironic mullets were a thing for a while, but honestly, you can't shake hands with the devil and say you're only kidding.  The mullet is a lifestyle, to be embraced, studied, and ultimately understood.  So says 16 year old me who, in a fit of rebellious anger, sported a mullet for at least 6 months.  Good thing I was the kind of fat guy that looked like he might be muscular underneath it all.  AH FUCK I just realized I didn't finish his hand.  Don't I look the fool.  The fat, mulleted fool.

      

     This piece is titled "Nick Woods: Self-portrait, August 29, 2026"

 

     This piece is called "Nick Woods: self portrait, May 15 2002 GODDAMIT I FORGOT TO FINISH THE HAND AGAIN"

     This piece is called "Nick Woods: self portrait, December 23, 2040"

      This is the best muscle lady I've ever drawn.  She is named MuscleChick Humperdink.  Have you noticed that aside from 90% of the visible hands in this update not being finished, they're all strategically placed in such as way that for the most part, you can't see any feet? I know it seems like a cop out, or that I'm trying to avoid challenging myself, but it's literally just a accident of framing.  You can believe me or not, but here's how I feel about it.

     Yeah boi.