Happy HALLOWEEN 2016!!!

Happy Halloween everyone! Please spread the love this halloween by sharing this image!

Cheers!

Bitch, ARE YOU FOR REAL?

Just wanted to put this here. Copy the URL of the image and share!

Pen and ink hair tutorial

Here's how you watch streaming videos from you computer on Google TV

When I first got the Google TV I needed a flatscreen TV and Sony had a great deal where I could purchase the 46' TV for 700.00 so I jumped on it. I had an outdated rear projection screen monstrosity that worked only at about 40% and I was just finished with it. I got the TV and hooked up my Xbox and home audio and it was off and running.

On my Xbox I would use Connect360 to watch AVI's over my wireless connection. Unfortunately quite a bit of my film formats wouldn't work on the Xbox.

The Google TV though has the most video formats that it can play out of any device I've checked out. Now I needed to do a bit of research to find a good DNLA Server. After several attempts I found one in Twonky Media Server. I purchased it for 20.00 and it was worth it.

First: I put the videos all on a 2 Gig hard drive.

Second: I installed Twonky Media Server. It works through an internet browser so it works on any type of OS. In the settings of Twonky I designate the hard drive and restart the server and allow the DNLA server to do it's job.
Note: The file format of the hard drive is reflected in the Video Player when it's displayed. I use it this way. If you go to the CONFIGURE area of Twonky, and select "First steps", Choose under "Navigation Tree" and select "By Folder". I make Genre files like "Drama", "Comedy", "Horror", etc. This makes finding films much easier.

Third: On the Google TV I make sure that it's on the same network as the Twonky. Add your passwords and such to get on the network.

Fourth: Open MEDIA PLAYER on the google TV and choose your video through the Navigation Tree and VIOLA! You have your own networked media server!

Enjoy!

A quick tutorial about inking and scanning artwork.

People ask me what I use to do my illustration and how I prepare it.

I like to use smooth bristol board for my art. For my pens I use this pen It's the best brush pen EVER! For the detail stuff I used to use rapidographs, but now I use Faber Castell pens. These have a good line variation where as the radiographs are pure technical pens.

First I pencil the art out as much as I can. Thinking about the shadows and how they'd fall on shapes. That's all technical stuff though. Different strokes, etc...

After the artwork is finished, I do the following in photoshop to make the artwork purely black and white.

• In photoshop Scan the image in at 600 dpi. in greyscale.

• Go to Image/Adjustments and select LEVELS. Eyeball it and move the black slider, the little black triangle on the left to the right. The more you move this the more black your blacks become. Now move the white slider, the one on the right that's white. Move it to the left. Your whites will become less grey. Try and get it as close to black and white as you can.

• Go to Image/mode/bitmap and Make it a bitmap.

• Make it 50% threshold at 600 dpi. This will make your art purely black and white. No grays whatsoever.

• Go to Image/mode/greyscale and make the size ration 1 in the popup. Press OK.

• I usually clean up here, making sure there aren't little off lines here and there.

• Your artwork is now ready to be colored if you'd like. What I do is make it a 300 dpi RGB image and color it using the wacom tablet.

My Hackintosh. A Story of Discovery and a Really Kick Ass Computer (That worked like gangbusters for 6 months and then went tits up)

Here's the makings for my hackintosh I recently made. You can find the parts here.

• Antec High-End Performance Case P183 V3
• GIGABYTE GA-Z68MX-UD2H-B​3 LGA 1155 Intel Z68 HDMI SATA 6Gb/s USB 3.0 Micro ATX Intel Motherboard
• Intel Core i5-2500K Processor 3.3GHz 6 MB Cache Socket LGA1155
• Corsair Vengeance Blue 16 GB PC3-12800 1600mHz DDR3 240-Pin SDRAM Dual Channel Memory Kit for Intel and AMD Platforms CMZ16GX3M4A1600​C9B
• GIGABYTE ATI Radeon HD6850 1GB DDR5 2DVI/HDMI/Displ​ayPort PCI-Express Video Card GV-R685OC-1GD
• Crucial 128 GB m4 2.5-Inch Solid State Drive SATA 6Gb/s CT128M4SSD2
• Seagate Barracuda 7200 1 TB 7200RPM SATA 3Gb/s 32MB Cache 3.5 Inch Internal Hard Drive ST31000528AS-Ba​re Drive
• Pioneer Internal Blu-ray Disc/DVD/CD Writer BDR-206 (Black)
• OCZ ModXStream Pro 600W Modular High Performance Power Supply compatible with Intel Sandy Bridge Core i3 i5 i7 and AMD Phenom

Apple >Mac OS X version 10.6 Snow Leopard


Putting together the computer was a snap. With a friend of mine who knew what he was doing, it took about two hours. When I started to install the system, I ran into Kernel panic. This was because the Sandy Bridge installation needed to be patched. So, here's what I did...

(I pretty much followed the instructions here. Read this carefully before progressing.)

• Launched iBoot
• Installed Snow Leopard
• Configured MultiBeast
• Installed UpdateHelper
• Rebooted
• Ran Mac 10.6.8 Combo Update
• Rebooted

Viola! Booted perfectly. Only problem was the sound and networking. I searched on this site for how to finish that and came across this post from Frostcall, who has a much more detailed description then here.

Based on this info, I basically checked my off my Multibeast exactly like the image below...

WHAM! Networking popped up instantly and audio came upon reboot.

I went to the Apple website and looked at their custom built computers. The result from apple was an outrageous 6,124.00! I had spent only 1,300.00.

I hope this helps anyone who needs it.

DF~>

••••UPDATE••••
The whole thing went tits up so I tried to fix it. Unfortunately no one on any of the boards would help and so I said fuck it and got a new MacPro and we're doing just fine. Oh, and tonymacx86.com bulletin board? Suck my balls. Thank you.

SCARY GHOST MOVIES FOR HALLOWEEN 2011

Here's a list of films that I'm going to be watching this Halloween. I don't much like gore flicks or torture porn, but I do like creepy ghost flicks.
Recently people have been asking me about what I like to watch and what I'd recommend. So, here's my list of great spook films for your possible perusal this Halloween season.

The Changeling
The Entity
The Haunting (1963) NOT the 1999 one.
Burnt Offerings
The Legend of Hell House
Stir of Echos
The Uninvited
Exorcist 3
The Shining
The Uninvited
Poltergeist
The Sentinel
Lake Mungo


Japanese:
Pulse
Seance
Juon

Thai:
Shutter

Chinese:
The Eye

Spanish:
The Devils Backbone
The Orphanage

British Ghost movies: These are hard to find but worth it.
Ghostwatch
Whistle and I'll come for you
A warning to the curious
The Stalls of Barchester
Lost Hearts
The Treasure of Abbot Thomas
The Ash Tree
The Signalman
A View from a Hill
Number 13
Schlacken the painter
The Woman in black
The Stone tape
The Innocents

FLAWLESS

The grogginess this morning was like a sheen of milk in his eyes. His head feels like it’s filled with wet cotton. Tylenol PM last night? That stuff ALWAYS puts him under too deep, a deep sleep that’s always almost impossible to climb up out of. But sometimes you need to get a good nights sleep.

He looks over and sees the sleek and flawless body next to him. The sheets partially covering the perfect ass and legs. He looks at the blond hair lose along the pillows covering delicate shoulders obscuring the gorgeous face. He smiles. What did he do to deserve such a wonderful woman? The light shimmers along her perfect skin as she shifts and mumbles slightly in her sleep. He hears her breathing and he feels a huge shudder of love.

John Isphus gets out of bed and steps quietly around the room trying not to wake his girlfriend Shannon up. She works hard and today is her day off he thinks. She is such a wonderful girl who gives so much to friends and family. The least he can do is let her sleep in.

In the bathroom he performs his morning rituals. He brushes his teeth, gagging in the mirror. Washes his face, goes to the bathroom, and applies deodorant. He’s ready for another day of high adventure at Goodman & Eblis Law partners.

He smells the smell of freshly brewed coffee. The pricetag on this coffeemaker was more then most people make a week, but damn did it make a perfect cup of joe.
One thing John doesn’t skimp on is quality. His condo’s the best in the upper class neighborhood of Brentwood. His m60 BMW coupe doesn’t just get him to work, he gets to work in serious style. His girlfriend is not only beautiful but practically an angel. His friends are gregarious but close, and they’ll stand next to him no matter what. His bank account is in the 6 digits. His parents are happy and healthy living in San Jose.

No matter which way you slice it, life is perfect for John. The best of all possible worlds.

As he drinks his coffee John hears the clicks on the floor from his dog’s paws. If a dog is man’s best friend, Shuck the black retriever is his.

“Good morning fuzz butt.” John says as he scratches under Shuck’s chin. Shucks tail could hammer nails with the intensity of it’s wagging.

“Good morning to you too.” He hears from the doorway to the kitchen. Standing in the morning’s golden rays is Shannon, wearing only one of his button up shirts. She’s stifling a yawn as she runs a hand through her blond hair.

“Good morning to you too hun.” he says as he smiles. Damn she’s hot, he thinks. Even freshly awake without primping. “I thought you were going to wake me up? Today’s the big day after all.” she says as she walks over to him and sits on his lap. She kisses him.

John is up for his review at the firm today. All indications have been that it’s going to be stellar. He’s primed for big things he’s told by everyone in the know.

“I didn’t want to wake you. I was just going to slip out and call you a little later.” he says as he looks straight into her blue eyes. “You need you beauty sleep after all...” He smiles. She returns the smile. “Dick.” She says and kisses him again.

- - - -

Nick is waiting for John as he pulls up outside of his house. Nick is Johns friend from way back when, before Goodman & Eblis, before USC, before Loyola. Half of the fun every morning is the ball busting that results in the car ride, listening to Howard and generally goofing off. The 405 freeway can be a parking lot for most of the daily transit, but the time still seems to fly by with Nick.

John pulls his gleaming red Beemer into his personalized parking spot and kills the engine. “Man, aren’t you nervous?” Nick asks. “Not at all. I have it on good authority that my review is golden. Soon you may even be calling me boss.” John replies.

“Yeah, that’ll be the day.” Nick says and smiles. They walk towards towards the courtyard as professionals zip back and forth. As John and Nick walk, John looks up and sees the large corporate sculpture that adjourns the reflecting pool in the middle of the courtyard. It’s a large copper looking ball suspended over a dark marble triangle that’s about 15 feet tall. It’s one of those things he takes for granted.

Yet...

Yet today he notices something that makes him stop. Mid laugh Nick asks “What’s wrong?” John murmurs “Hmmm... nothing.” as he steps a couple of steps closer. He looks at the marble base of the sculpture. There’s a chip in the otherwise perfect surface. A chip he’s never seen before. Now that’s he’s looking closer he can now see the spider leg like cracks emanating from the damage. The world starts to grey out as his attention is firmly held in place on the crack. He can’t hear the birds or the bustling crowd and his line of vision is slowly being sucked into the crack. He feels an almost physical pull from it as the sound of his breathing is all he hears. Is this recent? He thinks, perplexed. Funny how you never see the little blemishes in life. They should fix it. They should...
“John? Hey John? Earth to John? You OK there buddy?” Nick asks.
“Yeah, yeah...strange.” John says blinking back into reality. “Sorry, I just kinda tripped out there.”

- - - -

The meeting room for his 3:00 that John walked into was adjourned with photos of the owners of the company and a large window that curved around showing the courtyard outside. John took his chair and pulled it out and sat. Across the table sat two men, one is Old Man Goodman and the other is Old Man Ellis, the heads of the firm. They have folders in their hands and smile. This is gonna be a massacre, John thinks as he smiles back.

“So John, let’s get down to business... the purpose here this afternoon is to go over your job performance for the last 6 months. We’re really proud of your abilities and your leadership as of late. You’ve come in to your own and made the job yours.” Old Man Goodman starts of...

John nods his head, appearing to be humble but not too humble. That’s when he looks past the two men, past the window behind them and into the courtyard. The Corporate sculpture he noticed today. Time seems to slow down as his eyes focus on the piece with hungry eyes, taking in every nuance of the object. After what seems like an eternity he notices it again. The crack. The blemish, the imperfection. It was like he wasn’t in the meeting room anymore. He felt right next to the thing. He feels like he could reach out and touch it.

“John.”

He hears his name called off in the distance. What is that? He doesn't care. The only thing that really matters in the world right now is this crack. He doesn't know why. It’s an abhorrent thing. He feels tendrils of revulsion reach from inside the crack and draw him in. He looks closer and closer... his mind drifting...

“JOHN!”

John’s eyes snap open. The two men are now standing and looking at him, jaws slack with barely stifled anger. “What the hell’s wrong with you?” Old Man Ellis coughs out redfaced.
“I... I... dunno.” John replies. He’s looking around now. He notices the time. It’s 3:16! Sixteen minutes!?! It felt like a second or two!
“How... dare... you!” Old Man Ellis barely sputters out. “Who do you think you’re talking to, you little prick?”
“What did I say!?!” John says as he struggles to find mental footing.
Old Man Goodman adjusts his glasses shakily. “You seemed to go into some trance. You then said things... things...” He shook his head, pained.
“You’re done here.” Ellis says point blank. The words cut through John like bullets. “Get your stuff and leave.”

- - - -

“I don’t know what happened.” John says as he drives.

“What? Did you psyche-out or something? You had it in the bag!” Nick replies incredulous. “I’m really sorry man... that’s really weird. At least it’s an early day for me today.” The joke doesn’t lighten the situation any.

What should he tell Nick? John thinks. That he was thinking about the crack on some useless Corporate sculpture? That time seemed to draw out and he has no memory of what he said. They wouldn’t even tell him. But it must have been reprehensible... downright evil. Why did he trip out again on the stupid crack?

In his minds eye he sees it again. The crack. Only about two inches tall. Did someone bump into it? Was it vandalism? He imagines himself standing next to the object in the water but he’s not wet he notices. He feels as slight shudder and hears distance thunder but he doesn’t care. He realizes that he’s holding a roundish ceramic bowl in his hands. What should he do with this bowl? He dips the bowl in the water and lifts it up and splashes his face and takes a drink.

Sirens?

Even though he’s looking at the bowl, he blinks his eyes. Durning the time of the blink he sees smoke and his hearing kicks in. The air is filled with sirens. He opens his eyes again and he sees the sculpture. The sirens are quiet now. Blink. Blink. Blink.

John sits in his now totaled car. The sounds of complete chaos hill the air as he now smells rubber and engine fluids. He hears police radios and through the smoke he sees colored lights strobing. He looks to his right.

A blue Mazda is up-ended over the passenger side of the car. He’s looking up at the headlights that point up to heaven. He’s glad Nick isn’t in the seat. It’s too small of an area for him to fit into.
Then he sees the arm. He follows it up to a twisted pile of flesh and fabric that’s wringing wet with blood. He feels a stickiness on his face and tastes copper. His mouth is still full from the water. He spits out a gout of gory thick blood down the front of his shirt and lap. He looks down and as sees about a fourth of Nicks head looking back at him in his hands. One unblinking eye and the upper left part of Nicks head is all he can make out. He feels his fingers dig into the tattered biological material behind the mask that was once his friend and he vomits.

- - - -

“Honey? Are you all right?” John hears as his mind reels back in like a fishing line. He’s sitting on his bed and he remembers what happened. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health and he had left the hospital post haste. He had given his statement and cleaned up. He hadn’t mentioned the daydream to the doctors. He left that little part out. He still felt sticky and the taste in his mouth... best not to think about it otherwise he’d throw up again.

He looked at the door drunkenly. Shannon had come home immediately from her parents house to keep an eye on him. She was strong and maternal. That was exactly what he needed right now.

“Hey hun... sorry... I was a million miles away.” He said with a dry chuckle. She walked across the room and sat down next to him and put her hand on his and held it.
“When you want to talk I’ll be here.” She said looking deep into his eyes. As she said it she squeezed his hand firmly when she said “talk”, “I’ll”, and “here”. She looked away. That’s when he realized that she was not telling him something.

“What is it? I’m fine...” He started.

“Honey... I...” she started. She dropped his hand and started wringing hers. “I think you may be in trouble. Some witnesses say that you swerved into oncoming traffic right before the accident. A policeman told me that you shouldn’t go too far away for a while. I think they’re putting together a case against you.” She said flatly and to the point. He was dumbstruck.

“It was an accident! I didn’t... I mean I...” What could he say? That he had some weird spell and came too a couple of seconds after a horrific accident that he had caused? He felt his stomach drop out as an overwhelming dread seemed to creep up his spine.

First he lost his job, then his best friend being horribly killed, and now this? he put his head in his hands. Everything had been so great. And in the course of a couple of days it had been blown to hell.

He felt the sounds in the room start to fade into the back of his head. Oh no, not again he thought. He didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see the world change again around his consciousness. Every time it did it ended with the destruction of another part of his life. Off in the distance he could hear the sound of ethereal music. Quiet at first but growing...

He hazarded a look up between his fingers. The room was gone and a thin white mist filled the air. As he focused in the distance he could sense a spot of some kind of origin, where reality met and converged. All at once the feeling like a reversal of gravity occurred where instead of pulling him down it was pulling him forward. His feet left the ground as he rocketed forward, beyond terminal velocity, faster then he’s ever gone.

And there it was. The crack. It seemed like it wasn’t just a physical crack, it felt like a crack in the world. A crack to another world where only bad, cancerous things existed on the other side shrouded in wet darkness. But the crack was more... it was also desire and the forbidden. Ashamedly he felt his body react to that thought. Anger flooded him as he reached for it, and started to claw like a wild animal, tearing into it with insane abandon. Anger, terror and passion fueled him into a frenzy of violence. He had to destroy it. He fought like a man possessed.

As he flailed madly he could feel a presence of... something... watching him. It felt like someone was right behind him about three feet away over his right shoulder. He whirled around and saw nothing. He was now positive that he was alone.

There was a loud boom and the world was falling. The mist started to sweep around his feet as everything got swallowed in a deep blackness. He plummeted...
- - - -

Slowly he came to. His first conscious thought was how his head hurt and his arms were sore. It was like waking up with a hangover after a fight. He slowly focused on his arms.

Cuts crisscrossed his forearms and  hands. Really deep cuts it turns out. The blood still slowly leaked out when he moved them and the skin shifted. Horror seized him. “Oh my God! Shannon!” he thought and looked around the room.

The room was chaos incarnate. A wild animal had torn through here. The furniture was overturned and there was blood and other liquids everywhere. The walls had impact marks from flying debris. The mirrors, cracked. “Where was Shannon?” he thought. He stood up and walked to the doorway, legs weak and arms hurting. He prepared himself for the worse.

He saw her in the hallway, laying there belly down. She didn’t look real. She looked like a mannequin that had been destroyed in a storm. Her limbs were twisted in impossible angles with broken bones jutting out like bloody spears. Her neck was craned around so she was looking up into the air. One of her eyes was a hollowed socked. Her mouth, frozen in a silent scream, a mouth which was missing most of its teeth. When he looked closer he could find a couple of teeth in her bloody matted hair. She wasn’t just dead. She was trampled. In her right hand she held a bloodied butcher knife.

His arms, he realized... the wounds on them from where she had tried to fight him off.

Now in his dim memory he could see her screaming as he hit her with clawed hands. He held his head trying to force the memories off. Why was he remembering this now? Every gory wound that he delivered as his anger reached a climax. Now he was kicking her prone body, feeling bone and tissue give way to fury.

He threw up again soiling himself and stumbled backwards. He fell against the wall and slid down slowly. A stifled sob escaping his mouth. He put his head in his hands and started crying, first quietly then hard and loud.

There was a loud and rapid series of knocks on the door. “Police! Open up!” came booming from behind the door with authority. “Open up now!”

John looked down the hallway past his ruined life towards the front door. His red eyes ached. He sensed a dark shape coming around a corner. It was Shuck. The dog was walking towards him in the gloom of the hallway. The sounds of the police trying to get in was lost to the click clack of the dogs nails on the floor. Shuck had something in his mouth.

It was John’s Smith and Wesson .357 revolver.

Shuck dropped the gun into Johns lap and sat there and licked his chops. He looked at John, the gun and then John again. John grabbed the gun and held it shakily. Shuck’s brown eyes were locked on Johns. John instead looked down the barrel.

The door exploded with a kick followed by careful footsteps. Shuck looked down the hallway and then back to John.

“Hell’s in the details...” Shuck said to John.

John’s mind now snapped. He giggled girlishly as he put the gun in his mouth.

“WAIT! STOP!” One of the officers yelled.

He pulled the trigger. It felt like a mule kicked him in the mouth. Blood exploded from his nose and mouth as the contents of his head emptied upwards all over the wall behind him. His eyes went dull as he fell over, gore draining from his mouth. The smoking blasted flower of his head fell limply sideways, smacking the floor with a slap.

- - - -

The grogginess this morning was like a sheen of milk in his eyes. His head feels like it’s filled with wet cotton. Tylenol PM last night? That stuff ALWAYS puts him under too deep, a deep sleep that’s always almost impossible to climb up out of. But sometimes you need to get a good nights sleep.

He looked over and saw his beautiful girlfriend in the bed next to him. She slept quietly and looked like a beautiful blond angel. John smiled and looked over and saw his furry pal Shuck, who was looking at John from the hallway, tail wagging with contentment.

No matter which way you slice it, life is perfect for John. The best of all possible worlds.

Gotta love people who steal your art

As an artist you come across people who just seem to have no regard for your abilities. People who will talk down to you to get a better rate. There are some people who won’t pay you for your work and just disappear into the woodwork. There are some people who will use your artwork on their Myspace or Facebook accounts or in some other web based forum. 

I’ve had to deal with all of the above and more often then not everything gets sorted out in the end. Sometimes I’m even cool with the people who made the mistake of co-opting my art and sometimes create possible business opportunities. 

And then there are those people who will just out and out steal from you. Who will print your stuff and just sell it like they own it or drew it themselves. People with zero regards for your properties and will be a complete dick towards you when you call them on the floor. 

This is a story of one such pile of shit. 

I woke on October 19th to an email from a friend of mine named Noah.

Just thought you’d like to know but someone is selling your art that they converted for themselves. Not sure if you want to do anything about it but here is the url incase you do.”

Here's the Link...

Sure enough, I opened up the link and was greeted with the following item for sale on Ebay.

Wow, I thought. That’s total outright thievery of a piece that I made for the Disney licensed Haunted Mansion comic book for Slave Labor Graphics. 

These people whose store is called fairytaleweddingstore needed to be stopped. These people have a huge buyers rating on Ebay. How long have they been doing this?

I shot out an email to these people. I kept it to the point and even gave them the benefit of the doubt.

This is D.W. Frydendall, the artist who's artwork this is that you're selling without my consent. Please remove it from your store immediately. I'm going to check back at 5:00pm and if it's not down I'm going to inform ebay and have you removed from their system entirely. I'm even considering on seeing how many you've sold and "politely" asking you for that money.

Pretty forward. I expected the ol’ “Sorry about that. I’ll remove it right away. Won’t happen again.”

Wrong...

No sweat! By the way does Disney know you did this? As you can see, no one is even interested in the design. No sales.

I felt a surge of fire shoot behind my eyes. Granted, I checked out the page and they had stopped the sale but they still had my art on their ebay store. But then they accuse me of stealing shit after they steal my artwork! Then they get their little dig in on me about no one is even interested in my artwork? I got really pissed and shot back.

First off... yes, I designed that for Slave Labor Graphics for their licensed Haunted Mansion Comic. Second, why don't you shove your little dig right up your fucking ass.

Now I probably shouldn’t have told them to shove anything up their fucking ass, but you know what? Fuck them! How much money have they made from my piece that I made? Disney and SLG pretty much owned the piece, but still... they’re using my likeness to line their grubby little pockets. 

I went and had some breakfast and called my friend Devon to get some perspective. She had always been a quieting influence in my life. I tend to fly off the hammer and want to murder anything in eye shot. I told her about what I’d done and she sighed. Typical D.W.

So when I got the following message from the Cake Farts, as I now call them, she talked me down from ideas of grim murder. 

Wow! You are one class act for sure! Go find a job you starving so called artist!

Hahahahaha! Sniff... seriously! So, with Devon walking me through the reply, making me not use such terms as “asshole, fuckhead, dipshit, fuckwit...” I shot back the following.

Just a heads up. Besides Ebay, I approached Disney legal who I'm in the employ of (some starving artist huh?) to review all of your content on your little store. Disney legal as you may or may not know doesn't take kindly to plagiarists. 

Also, rather or not I'm a starving artist isn't the issue. You stole and were selling my art for your personable profit. With people like you no wonder the term "Starving artists" was coined.

Don't contact me in the future. it won't go well.

So I never heard from them after that. Turns out they weren't that stupid. But I was far from finished. 

I found out that these dolts are up in Oregon. Oregon City to be exact. So I got their address and phone number. I then called my friend Huy. He lives up there and he can be one scary motherfucker when he wants to be. He’s an MMA fighter who has a mohawk and tats up and down his arms. 

He told me he’d check into it since he was going to be in Oregon City today. I didn’t know what he’d do. Odds are he’d do nothing, but maybe he’d just look at them sideways and make them piss their pants. Nothing ultimately happened due to the fact that their address was completely false. He got there and no such place exists. 

Oh well I thought. Next step... look at the other art on their Ebay page.

I found another artist named Daniel (website here) who’s arwork was being used as well. I shot him an email and he was totally cool.

Hello D.W!

Thank you for bringing this to my attention. It is surely not cool of them to profit from our work without our permission. 

Have you tried using ebay's 'Report item > Copyright violations'? That would probably put an end to their bad behavior.

Again, really, really cool of you to notify me as well!

So that’s two. I then got ahold of Ebay via chat message and laid out the entire thing. They assured me that they would take actions against these folks. They even at one point said "Seriously... they said that to you?" A yup. I told them.  

Next I called my friends at Disney and got their legal department. I plan to call them tomorrow first thing. 

I know... I could have just “let it go.” But you know what? They really pissed off me off and then were completely unrepentant.

I see how Cooks Source lifted a recipe from Monica Gaudio (here) and I get a warm feeling when the internet trolls come a callin’ on the guilty party and rain a wash of shit all over the not only guilty party, but the arrogant AND guilty party. 

Updates will be coming. Keep posted...

Marc Jacobs

This is a set of pieces i did with Mandana Towhidy. See her blog at Nancy Girl.

Victor and Rolf

This is a set of pieces i did with Mandana Towhidy. See her blog at Nancy Girl.

Christian Dior

This is a set of pieces i did with Mandana Towhidy. See her blog at Nancy Girl.

Favorite FAT CHICKS IN PARTY HATS images.

Thanks go out to Miguel and SeanBaby for the greatest site of all time, Fat Chicks in Party Hats.
Link
These are my favorite images from the consciousness expanding site.

My friend Tim and I used to see this guy all of the time at the comic con. He wore this Optimus Prime costume that was made with spraypainted cardboard boxes put together with duct tape and he stunk. I mean stttuuuunnnkkk. We came up with a ton of names for our new special friend in a box. Optimus Stink, Stinkor, but we ultimately settled with Stinky Robot. Cheers Stinky Robot. You rule all you survey from your robot vantage point of awesome.

Oh Miguel... you never cease to amaze with a laser keen eye for social satire and wit. Your Swiftian barbs keep me laughing and thinking... at the same time.

To contemplate the perfection of this piece is much akin to staring at the sun. You want to witness the universes wonders but you only just blind yourself instead.

They are indeed Lazer Force. They are... indeed.

Sketch Saturday: Baine

Here's a pencil drawing I did of Baine.

Sketch Saturday: Lobo

Here's my sketch of one of my favorite characters from DC. He got kinda played him out but I don't care since I'm a huge fan of random extreme violence.

Sketch Saturday: Superman

In my attempt to do more sketches of stuff, I decided to draw a couple DC COMICS characters. This here is how I see Superman as looking.

Move Your Car - DJO

Here's more DJO for your Monday. Always great... always makes me laugh.

ASK BAINE: I have a den of junkies next door.

This is a new feature we're including on ODD BLATHERINGS where we ask Vincent Angus Baine to answer some of the more...uh... "esoteric" questions that we get asked. We'll see how long we can feature it before we get sued.
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By Vince Baine

You come home from work and there's a bunch of scabby faced people you've never seen before shuffling into the neighbors house like dopey zombies to do a handful of crappy drugs. The stereo is going at all hours next door to your bedroom window. The neighbors have been on another meth bender and have been up for two days straight arguing about who stole who's fix. You walk to your car in the morning and the smell of junkie piss on the side of the house stinks the joint up. You get to your car and your antenna, hub caps or anything else not bolted to the ground are missing.

Having a neighbor who's running a junkie flop house can be a huge drag.

Yeah, sure, it's sad when people have drug problems and all that... but you know what? Fuck 'em! You can cry me a river for the fact that they're victims too or some such namby-pamby bullshit, but now they're fuckin' with your house or apartment that you pay a fuck load of money for in rent or mortgage and not to mention the hard earned shit that you bust your ass to have that these shitheads will snake out from underneath you to sell for drugs. A serious junkie problem can really destroys your neighborhood like cancer from either the user themselves or the piles of human debris that float through now and then looking for free goods. There's nothing like coming home from a hard day of work and seeing that your plants have been stolen by some fuck up who needs a fix. Or waking up in the middle of the night as some scrawny weasel's trying to sneak through a window and into your house to rip you off (What you do at that point will be discussed in the next chapter. Don't miss it.)

Yeah, you can talk to the druggie in question, and that will get you only an addicts lies ("Never Trust a Junkie." Ministry: Just One Fix) so don't waste your time. You could just go over with a bat and break the place apart and bust of couple of the heads of some of those pukes, but yeah, the cops aren't cool with that and the rats will just scurry back and steal your shit while you're in the hoosegow doing time for assault. I know... gay. The system just doesn't seem to work out for the little guy.

Outside of brutalizing someone with a bat what's a Joe to do?

Buck up young fella. Here are some ideas that you can try!

MAKE IT THE LANDLORDS PROBLEM:
Is the asshole in question in your apartment complex? One thing you can do if so is tell your landlord or Apartment Manager about it. If they're not in your complex then tell their Manager about it. Tell them a couple of times and make a log of when you did, either with email or a certified letter. Now you've created a paper trail that shows that you've warned and warned them about the drug problem next door. Be sure to inform them that if anything happens to any of your property you are going to hold them  personally responsible from here on out due to their inaction. It's core, I know... but if it's at that point, then it's at that point. The Apartment Manager knows what's going on.

Super dick move: After warning the Manager, take some of your shit and make it look like it was stolen then really put it to the Manager. Besides, who would believe what a junkie says? They'd probably just kick the trash to the curb.

MAKE IT THE DRUGGIES PROBLEM:
Another thing you can do is get a camera and a heavy and brutal household beat-up devise like a bat or a crowbar and walk out and take snapshots of license plates of cars that show up that you know are the visitors to the house who is using it as a dive. Druggies are cowards so they'll just bail rather then deal with the law and angry neighbors. If they're combative, then you have the blunt instrument. Under no circumstances are you to provoke a fight. If asked about what you're doing be to the point. "There's a lot of drug use at that house and I'm just keeping track of peoples comings and goings. If you're not doing anything bad then you've got nothing to fear." if they persist. "I'm now holding you personally responsible asshole for any theft or other problems in this neighborhood. It just takes one phone call to get your info..." and leave. Odds are they will too cause as I said, junkies are cowards...

MAKE IT EVERYONE'S PROBLEM:
The problem with the police is they're not just going to go smashing into a house on the off chance it's an illicit drug den full of ravenous meth fiends. This aint China Pal.  You can call the city's police departments crack tip line but most times they'll say there's nothing they can do but they'll send units by now and then to check it out. But you're a proactive cuss aint ya and you want this dealt with now. How do you get the cops really interested? We'll get to that. First thing you can do is make and post up flyers around the neighborhood with the words DRUG HOUSE at the top with the address. For extra "zing" take a picture of the house in question and put that on the flyer. Put at the bottom of the poster a number set delineating how many you've put up around the neighborhood. For example 3 of 12, 4 of 9, etc. You don't have to make all twelve, just two or three should work.

Super dick move: Here's what you can add to get under the skin of the local law enforcement in a "no holds barred" kinda way. Put on the poster DON'T WORRY, THE COPS DON'T CARE! Ohhhhhhh.... Nothing... and I repeat NOTHING pisses off a cop more then being told that they don't care about their community.

The junkies will find the posters or it will come to their attention in other ways. Do not tell anyone you did this. Not a soul. If it gets out you did this then you're gonna be the object of bullshit revenge tactics and the last thing you want to do is tangle with a bunch of strung out losers.

It will bring TOTAL attention to the house from everyone around the neighborhood. Everyone will now keep an eye on The DRUG HOUSE and the junkies probably will see the place as high risk. The cops will come by much more often and probably even check inside. You've now elevated your problem to be everyones problem.

You just want them gone. And with a little balls and a little effort you can get rid of 'em.


NOTE: Hey, what you do with this info is your business. Don't hold me responsible if you try anything I say and it goes south badly. That's your own damn fault.


VINCE BAINE is currently a private eye in Pasadena, Ca. He's served in the L.A.P.D. for 4 years but since had to resign. He served the Persian Gulf '90 as a Navy SEAL. You can find the album from his hardcore punk band "Wreckingball" on Amazon if it's still in print.

BAINE and all likenesses are COPYRIGHT © 2010 D.W. Frydendall.All Rights Reserved.

The Human Torando will kick your ass.

 George Stiehl and I were sitting in Wok n’ Roll Friday night, eating sushi and drinking beer and unfiltered sake. We were having a great time getting drunk and checking out the groups of ladies who were out showing off their wears. After we left the restaurant we got a bottle of bourbon. I was buzzing with excitement. I had finally, at long last, got a copy of Rudy Ray Moore’s magnum opus “The Human Tornado”.

He will own you.

For those of you who don’t know who Rudy Ray Moore is, he’s a comedian who gained stardom with his first record “Eat Out More Often”. This allowed him to gain enough funds to make his first film “Dolemite”. This film had everything for greatness…violence, sex, dancing, and comedy. Needless to say it became a success. What more can you say about a movie with lines like “You insecure-born, rat soup eating, jock-jawed, motherfucker!” other then greatness is bound to ensue.

Moore made “The Human Tornado”, the sequel to “Dolemite” in 1976. According to Moore this film is his favorite movie. One can see why. The film opens with a party at Dolemite’s mansion. While his friends are having a good time (a young Ernie Hudson is in the film as one of Dolemite’s friends), Dolemite is screwing some white chick in his room. Well, in Dolemite’s world, if there’s a group of brothas and sistas having a good time, some crazy-ass, racist sheriffs going to show up and rain on the parade. But are you ready for this? The aforementioned white chick is the sheriff’s wife! “He made me do it!” she cries, in which Dolemite replies “Bitch, are you for real?” Insert shootout here. Dolemite is now on the run.

The film goes into overdrive from there. There are some scenes that make you both laugh your ass off and scratch your head. When he has sex with the villain’s wife, he literally destroys the room with his “sexational” abilities. He is after all the Human Tornada’! The fight scenes offer sped-up footage, and over dubbing that doesn’t sync to the footage. Moore’s main martial art form consists of him engaging the enemy while sporadically shaking his head back and forth, making a sound similar to when you get into a really cold bath tub (see the sample to the left).

Do your soul a favor and see this film. I watched this film 4 times in two days. Everyone who watched it wants to see the rest of his films. There is a power with this film that takes you on a magical ride into film-watching ecstasy. Scorsese? Spielberg? They can lick Rudy Ray Moore’s balls. My new goal is to see him live. Then I can die happy.

NOTE: I wrote this back in 2004... unfortunately Rudy Ray Moore died in October of 2008. I think we should all have 10 days of silence in remembrance of this great man.

WHY MAKING WEBSITES IS THE LAMEST JOB…EVER.

I've been making websites since 1995 and have quite a number of sites under my belt. I've worked on everything from corporate sites to artsy websites to cheap sites. I even made a porn site or two (Everyone who does sites has made a porn site. It's just the way things are on the web space), so I know a bit about the cause and function of web site building. So in knowing that, I'd like to say to all aspiring web developers…

Making websites is the lamest, most dead-end job ever!

The greatest single day of my creative life was retiring from the web business with MADCREATOR.COM being the last (and greatest) site I made. People would tell me “"But Darren! You're so good at it!"” I say thee “Phooey!” I'm outlining the reasons why web site creation and maintenance, in a word…sucks.

SUCKS.

On the echelon of the things that sucks about doing sites a bit is dealing with the client. The client never understands the technology that goes into website construction. Thus the changes come at a rapid pace. “"Oh, it's easy to fix this or that"” or “"But you LIKE doing websites" are two things that I heard all of the time. No no no! All dumb statements! And they make no attempt to understand the technology too boot! Most of the clients I had for site just became helpless babies who NEED you to help them out. Usually these are the mom and pop sites. I made websites for cash not for creative reward! Another thing that happens all of the time is when you visit a “possible”client, the client asks you a series of questions. There is always some Jackass who sits there and listens to how you do things. Then you never hear from the “possible” client. It turns out Jackass tells the boss that they have a nephew in school who can do the site much cheaper. Thus they take all of your ideas and funnel them to some puke with a copy of Dreamweaver, making a dinky website for 100 bucks with broken links and shoddy design. Also, payment for website deals is ALWAYS on the backburner. It's like the client can't feel or hold the website in a tangible sense, therefore, it doesn't seem real to them. Oh, they usually will pay everyone else off but you, the web designer. I’'ve had “professional” clients (including some of those corporate web people found working under the radar at the big “"D"” and Vivendi/Universal) are totally unprofessional. They don't return your calls in time and then rush things through at the last moment! Gah! So, the number 3 thing that sucks about websites…CLIENTS.

SUCKIER.

The technology for making websites is hinky at best. What works on one computer and browser won't work with another computer and browser. I always use the analogy of programming a VCR with tennis rackets attached to your fingers. FLASH sometimes gets corrupted and will mess up your file. Then you need to restart from scratch. Or there is some font problem with FLASH, or there is some sound issue, or there is some programming bug that can't get fixed, or...you get it? The shit doesn't work when you need it to. Getting PHP or PURL to work on your server is a headache because the server doesn't have APACHE so hey have to fix that, and it STILL won't work. The number two reason why site building sucks…TECHNOLOGY.

SUCKIEST.

The world of web development is like the Wild West. You have the maverick gunslingers (Designers) and the greedy land barons (Companies). I can't tell you how many companies have dorked me over. They've either reneged on a deal, stole my ideas or designs or stole my original art. These people suck! I can give you a couple of names of people who screwed me over. Like, for example, in 2002. We designed a website for Clay Lacy, only to have them steal the design and have some place called Red Wave Studios RECREATE the site verbatim. Thus weaseling my company out of 3000.00. THREE GRAND! That's it! The biggest private jet charter company in the U.S. screws three hard working guys out of three grand. I hate them. They lick balls. There are so many other instances of this type of behavior in the web world. When the web became popular in the 90's every piece of crap Hollywood wannabe came out of the woodwork to get a piece of the action. I'm not saying all, but a large number of them are “"Hollywoodcentric"” shysters who will screw you to your face. “"It's all business" they say, but come on… and have some class you evil assholes. So the number one reason why websites suck…THIEVING TALENTLESS HACKS WHO RIP YOU OFF.

There you have it. Go on young soldier and make those sites. But heed my warning...you will get boffed in the long run.