Rock out with your camera out

When I heard that Petra was going to celebrate her birthday at Swing-a-Ling, I knew it was going to be even more awesome than the usual Monday night at Cord in Munich. So I bought the most sensitive films I could find and brought my cameras along. I already uploaded most of the pictures to Flickr (there are still some Black & Whites on the way I'll have to scan myself), but all in all, I'm a bit disappointed with the results. They are all hella grainy (which actually looks interesting on the B&W shots) and due to my goddamn jittery hands (I have a condition, you see) most of the pictures are hella blurred (especially the ones with people dancing) or the colours are all washed out because of the flash. Next time I'll bring my tripod (which apparently *isn't* overkill) so at least the only blur will be from people moving, and not my hands shaking.
Sadly, none of the pictures I took with my LOMO Action Sampler came out. It seems that camera needs a lot more light, even with 1600 smackers of light sensitivity all hella up in there. Dig?

Little Things

It's the little things that get to you. Like the headaches, or the blood shooting out of your eyes at inopportune times. Yea, I'll just take a raincheck on that dessert, mom, but dinner was delicious.
It's the little things that get to you. Like when you want to quit shooting, snorting, huffing and dropping because you squirted blood all over your mother's delicious creme brulee and also the pain and the daytime hallucinations, but when some chick has her tits in your face and she's offering you a tab with her tongue while her friend whispers something about snorting it off her shaved pussy later, it's really hard, saying "no", you know? By the way, that might have been one of those daytime hallucinations I was telling you about. Somehow make driving my cab a little harder, too.
It's the little things that get to you, like when you're lying on a gorgeus sandy beach like straight out of a postcard and you close your eyes for a moment because if you get any more relaxed you just might dissolve and then you rip them open again because your fare is screaming at you in her stupid fucking language and you oh shit gotta dodge and you nearly plow into the fucker in the other lane and you manage to screech to a halt halfway up the curb and then the dumb foreign bitch staggers out yea sure lady ride's on me and then you need something for the shakes. Just a little something. Just a small one. Ain't no thing. Just. A. Little.
I can quit any time I want to.

When the writer is so good that the funny isn't enough

Questionable Content's writing (art, too, but that's not what this is about) is very brilliant. Jacques is very good at giving us enough story in a strip while keeping the funny in there, that I dread the day when he misses his next update. This is not all good, because this way, he has spoiled us horridly, so much so, in fact, that I felt strangely unsatisfied by today's installment. Look at it, it's fucking hilarious (LOOK AT IT!), but it does nothing to advance the story, and at this point in the story, I wouldn't care if Pintsize made me barf out a lung from laughing; I want to know whether Marten bangs the OCD chick. And if he doesn't, what Faye's reaction will be when she finds out where he spent the night and of course she'll think and Dora's brother and Raven and ZOMG GOBBLE GOBBLE
DO YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DON'T GIVE US STORY, JACQUES? ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?

Stand by, we are experiencing technical difficulties

I am terribly behind on the "Crack from Blackdog" thing I promised I would be doing, and yesterday I bricked my laptop that had the draft for the next installment sitting on it. Curses! Why did I not use Blogger's Draft feature, you ask? Why, because I wanted to be able to work on the entry should I be somewhere without connection. Didn't that work well? To atone for my sins, I give you the Ultimate Awesome (via Websnark)

We are gathered here today...

I am sad today because Richard Pryor is dead. More than once, his programs nearly cost me my life because I was laughing my head off when I should have been paying attention to traffic; he was not just funny, but thought-provoking and instructional. Here's to the funniest motherfucker ever lived. (via warrenellis.com)