Get it Good

I'm Mitchell.

I’m a Web Designer of sorts, and I like to pretend that I’m good with a camera. Sometimes I get lucky. I can’t draw to save my life. I can, however, make good use of myself in the kitchen. You could, if you were so inclined, follow my Twitter, where I try to be funny in 140 characters or less.

Twitter, Facebook, Flickr, Last.fm.

Boyfran ♥


Take your left hand off your face and uncross your feet.

I don't feel like explaining how I feel.

Mostly because I don’t know how to explain it. But the next few weeks are going to be pretty hard.

I want hot chocolate, Jeremy, a blanket, and a good movie.

I’ve got, um… a blanket. And movies of questionable goodness.

So. I’ll go, uh, cuddle with a pillow. And watch… something.

21 sleeps

Counting sleeps is easier than counting days. There are no halves, no wondering if today counts. In twenty one sleeps, I’ll be in Houston. And I can’t even wait.

Jailbroken. And then I had to make a bunch of icons myself because they didn’t come with the theme. I still have a bunch more to make, but my home screen is done. Is it pretty or WHAT. Thanks babe :)

“ A good plan violently executed right now is far better than a perfect plan executed next week.

— Fortune Cookie (here)

I CAN'T BE ANYBODY'S SECRET SANTA BECAUSE Y'ALL ARE TOO CHEAP TO PAY FOR SHIPPING TO CANADA.

Spent the better part of the last, oh, 7 hours working on the new theme. Holy bajeesus. Still working out the kinks, but let me know what you think.

If something scares you, do it.

See also:

Getting a tattoo. Like the real, permanently permanent kind. The kind that doesn’t wash off, not even with nail polish remover. The kind that all the “My body is a temple”-ists are going to see and say, “That’s going to look horrible when you’re 70,” to which you can reply, “So is everything else.”

Moving out. As in, I will no longer be living with my parents. As in I need to consistently pay rent and buy groceries and lounging around all day on Tumblr is no longer an option (sad face), and I’ll be living in a part of town I’ve never even been in, so I have no idea what’s around there and how to get about. I put my faith in the Calgary Public Transit system.

Going to school in a different country. It’s not the school that scares me, it’s the process of getting to that school. There’s forms and applications and I’m pretty sure I have to go in for an interview with some government agent who’s going to be all, “And what makes you think you’re good enough to go to Sam Houston?” To which I have no answer, other than “DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM, BITCH? I’M MITCHELL BARTLETT AND I GO TO SCHOOL WHEREVER I DAMN PLEASE!” (Just kidding!)

Monday, November 9th: Tattoo
Saturday, November 14th: Moving out
For the next year or so: Going to school in a different country

So this is where I’m thinking for Monday. It’s either this or between my shoulder blades. I like both, but this way I’ll be able to see it (without a mirror) which I want.

So I’m not the only one who finds Jony Ive sexy, right?

Right?

SNPD: Shower time edition

These skills are not mine but I wish they were.

  1. This is scene from that movie where Mojo’s family is captured by the Samurai overlords and he goes to the temple to train with a renowned kung-fu master and his first task is to fight off scores of students with only an ice cream cone but he accidentally eats the cone and thus learns that his true enemy is his own gluttony. Honestly, it was a horrible movie. I just did it for that Lead Gaffer credit!
  2. This is the definition of the word Aposiopesis. I’ll use it in a sentence. “So there I was, trapped by the Hippopotomas Queen when—”
  3. Here we see a man drinking from a fire extinguisher, which is a horrible idea unless he just swallowed a fire, in which case it’s a good idea. Unless it was a grease fire, which means he should be swallowing a blanket.
  4. Back around the time of this sketchbook, I was taking a letterpress course (the same one these fine folks took). I drew my instructions for setting your type in the press bed. At least I think it’s called the press bed. I didn’t pay much attention. It was during this time that I learned that no matter the amount of interest I have in the subject, if you put me back in an educational environment, I resort to my schoolboy ways. I disregarded homework; I ignored the teacher and wasted my time doodling; I even called up Lois Hopper and asked her to the Junior Dance. This time she actually said yes, but then I was informed that the dance was 15 years ago and that I’m not allowed to date. Wives. Am I right, fellas?
  5. One of the few things I did learn in that letterpress class is that Dan Mall is an unstoppable eating machine, and consequently wastes nearly 50% of his day actively putting food in his mouth. So I invented an amazing solution. You may have noticed Dan won the Nobel Prize for Greatness? All my doing.
  6. This is just a fellow who is entirely hands. Even his feet are hands. You and five other friends can all greet him at the exact same time.
  7. This is Lemburton Leigh. His only goal in life is to iron things. I didn’t have enough room to fit in his name, but inside the “O” in Lemburton there’s an iron. Other items of note that contain iron at their very center are the Earth, My Uncle Harlan’s left tibia, and Tootsie Pops for robot trick-or-treaters.
  8. Here’s a little drawing trick from a professional illustrator. You can drastically cut down on the amount of human anatomy you need to draw if you always draw people standing in water. Up until college, every family Christmas Card I ever drew was set in a nativity scene that had mysteriously flooded.
  9. Mojo’s favorite pizza actual is pretty good, but you can’t find many pizza places qualified enough to make it. Soviet judges are notoriously stingy with their 6.0’s.
  10. Science fiction writers are often exploring the ethical questions of the future. For instance, is it morally wrong to fall in love with a robot? I suspect it’s fine, unless it’s your neighbor’s robot wife. That’s double-coveting.
  11. Wow, another opportunity for a coveting joke. Good job, Kev. Nothing fills the seats like Bible humor. Keep ‘em coming, stupid.
  12. This was the idea for a story where a man goes deep-sea diving only to find a gopher has stowed away in his suit. That’s the end of the first act, and then it goes into this thing where the gopher is searching for his father. But in order to bring the father into the scene I had to have him trapped in a diving suit as well, and then suddenly I’m bringing in all these other woodland creatures to resolve the plot which means I have to have all of them trapped in a diving suit and then I got fifty characters to keep an eye on and half of them are just people in diving suits standing around and then it’s like “What the hell, is this like an underwater wedding? Why are all these people diving here?” and before you know it this is a 750 page children’s book. So I scrapped it. But I have this other idea which is pretty marketable — “Everyone Vomits”.

This would have more words but I'm tired.

Being alone at night sucks. Crawling into bed alone and laying there under the covers is almost unbearable. It’s quiet and the silence is screaming at you, reminding you of how lonely you are.

And then there are nights where you’re extra emotional, moreso than usual, and it’s exponentially worse. You’re laying there with your eyes closed and you want him there so much that it hurts. So much that the sound of your breathing is infuriating because it isn’t coupled with the sound of his. Every movement, every shift in your position echos and spells out just how empty your bed is.

And there isn’t anything that you can do about it, except wait for sleep to come.

GPOYW: I’m not the only one who chews on headphone cords, right? edition.

Slash, that can’t be sanitary, can it? ZOMG H1N1 edition.