Mutley the Driveljournal

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Thu, 14 Aug 2008 03:57:37 GMT

My homebrew kit for the DS turned up today! Colors* runs really smoothly on it, provided you aren't electrostatically charged and that you keep your other fingers away from the touchscreen while drawing. It came with a groovy USB adaptor for the MicroSD card as well, meaning I'm not as likely to lose the nigh-invisible lilliputian memory speck.

Unfortunately I've been hit by the whammy trifecta with workworkwork and have had no downtime to play with it as yet.

I think the DS has been one of the most sensible of frivolous purchases I've made so far. I beg anyone to differ as I flood LiveJournal with half-baked oekaki illustrations made on the fly. When I have the hang of it.

*User submitted gallery of the program here!

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 02:17:19 GMT

More scribbly distraction between jobs.

I'm procrastinating on starting my third "Business Roadmap" for that telecommunications company with cars and hills and checkpoints. I tell you, give these folk a metaphor and they just absolutely fucking run with it.

And mandarins?
I cannot eat just one, I can't deny.

Reaper

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 11:37:27 GMT

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Sat, 09 Aug 2008 05:03:07 GMT

Exactly four and a bit episodes of the final season of Will & Grace.

That's how long my root canal took to perform this morning.

I shall forever wonder at the high-pitched nasal delivery of the Karen character blending seamlessly with the high-pitched whine of the dental drill.

Once or twice I almost laughed and paid for it dearly, mentally noting this situation as having the dubious honour of being the least pleasant Saturday morning in recent memory.

Because, despite my every intent to the contrary, I ended up in the dentist chair at 8:20 am having major surgery with a hangover.

Alert: Videogaming update.

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 08:17:09 GMT

I bought a DS.

After this amount of time I figured there would be a substantial library of titles I'd like to play which, in reality, is always inversely proportional to the amount of titles available on any given system.

So, based on that equation, I should have expected this dreaded suckhole vortex of pony, puppy and kitten sims? Could someone please explain to me why there is a baby baby simulation? Or at least give me an amusing rundown of the marketing meeting that went into developing that.

As a nigh-middle-aged man Nintendo has cornered the market on public emasculation. Visibly standing by the DS games is like being given a lovely new crown drawn in fluorescent pink crayon every time you look at a title.
I deflect this by pretending I don't understand that I've accidentally picked up a copy of Super Pony Princess Simulation Adventurez Go!!! by squinting and looking puzzled and sniffy. Which in a way, I am, because it's all pink, fluffy and twee and I'm normally not wearing my glasses out of vanity's sake.

So rather than the wealth of titles I had anticipated, I'm left confused, grumpily out of touch and am resolved to crack the system with a homebrew chip so I can use it as an oekaki moleskine rather than play the generic diaper changing sims that are currently on offer.

That said, I got Nintendogs for Kel to tool around with because I thought he might enjoy it.
After spending half an hour in the toilet shouting at the console so the puppy would learn its name (and so Kel couldn't hear me) the chip has been resigned to the back of the drawer. Any game that requires you to yell at it and discovering the only word it'll respond to is "fuck" can stay there.
Wisely, omenode has observed my tribulations and decided it's best left alone.

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 03:52:16 GMT

I don't remember exactly how I stumbled upon this particular folly, but I can't recommend this enough to anyone who has a need to express some righteous anger at client foibles or may even just feel like serving up a good old bitchslap.

The Barbie Dream House.

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Sat, 02 Aug 2008 09:37:19 GMT

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Thu, 31 Jul 2008 04:44:22 GMT

In March on the flight home from Paris I found an uneaten protein ball in my backpack. Anyone familiar with this substance can tell you it's slightly less chewy than tree bark and is similarly as flavoursome, even when hidden beneath a glucklike caramel fudge disguise.
Shrugging, I stuck some of the cludge in my mouth whereupon it immediately ripped out a large section of a rear left molar, enfolded itself around the fragment and had me chew and swallow it. Slightly unnerved at having eaten some of my tooth I then prodded the enormous cavity left behind with my tongue.
Stuck on a ten hour flight with nothing so entertaining as this bizarre development I worried at this new excavation in my mouth's landscape until I had completely lacerated my tongue into bloody shreds. Much hilarity ensued.

Fast forward to the present, the intervening period filled with the detritus of a million discarded toothpicks. A fortnight ago I encountered a pain so severe I believe I crossed my eyes and went a luminous white whilst eating a dessert. Finally, I conceded defeat and hove to the dentist who filled my tooth with much clucking and ka-chinging. He informed me that the nerve may still die despite the cap.

Well, slap his crystal balls and call him Nostrodentus because that little bugger did up and kick it a couple of days ago, throwing out toxins at an astounding rate in a tearfully unwelcome farewell. So I've been mortally stricken with the nastiest of face ache barring an impacted wisdom tooth and blessed with the need for a root canal.

As for the rest... I'm not really compelled to talk about work because 1. I'm likely to break about six gazillion client confidentiality clauses in my need to describe in excruciating detail the errors of their ways, 2. It's not that interesting to anyone who isn't a really, really, really huge screaming fanboy of advertising storyboards about binge drinking preventative iniatives and 3. My agent also reads this journal.
So I'm left with talking about my upcoming trips to the dentist and the way that that hilarity did ensue.

We haven't missed anything because the rest of the time has been filled with work, food, sleep and drink. In that order. And no Protein Balls.

Face 10

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 23:40:06 GMT

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Sun, 27 Jul 2008 14:14:03 GMT

Busy, occupied, calm, accomplished and the well is completely dry.

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 08:26:22 GMT

Face 09

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 03:04:24 GMT

Face 08

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 03:34:44 GMT

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 12:19:23 GMT

A week of contrasts, wherein

• I was made to ignore my general apathy and rallied for a cause I became personally invested in,

• enjoyed a cinematic marvel at an Imax theatre among the detritus of pilgrims with a cadre of fellow illustrators,

• left my box for an night to party in a kooky neon winter wonderland

• and have this evening just returned home from drawing for the sick children convalescing at Ronald MacDonald House.

It also appears there has been photo documentation for nigh on the whole journey, which is pretty unforgiving given some of some circumstances I found myself in.
From the shot in which I'm sitting in a bar wearing a batman mask four sizes too small for my enormous face to the sickeningly pinklit neon wonderland with butfirst, I can readily deduce that I'm singularly incapable of closing my mouth when the camera takes a picture.

I hope I had my gob shut tonight because it would have been unseemly to be that happy holding up a drawing of a jellyfish with chicken legs and gorilla arms in a hospital.

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Sat, 19 Jul 2008 09:20:37 GMT

I was dragged out of my apathetic state today to rally against the erosion of civil liberties as endorsed by Pope Palpatine and his euroteenclusterfuck. It was a lovely day out, the sun was hot and wintery and the sound system was as dodgy as anything organised by a ragtag coalition of fried hippies and exciting queer gentlefolk. I held up signs to prevent skin cancer and was generally enlightened far beyond any intention when I left the house this morning.

And omenode is in the first thirty seconds of this footage here as a devil with a placard exclaiming that he doesn't exist.
butfirst took much of this incriminating evidence of annoying and inconvenient behaviour to the plebian flock.

Face 07

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Sat, 19 Jul 2008 00:24:20 GMT

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 07:34:45 GMT

There's a terrace down the street that is covered in chalk, as is the sidewalk, the steps and the pot plants.
Obviously their children are allowed to run riot over every exterior surface and it's all the more entertaining for it. There's years of chalk strata still faintly begging attention, once you squint past the flowers, cars, indecipherable text and monsters.

We're all still playing dodge the pilgrim. Tonight is the Stations of the Cross which promises to be the largest hymn-filled extravaganza to ever cross Sydney town - barring Mardi Gras 1994. If I leave the balcony door open I've been able to hear them singing Hallelujah from St Mary's Cathedral as it's the one word they all universally appear to know.

Face 06

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 01:13:17 GMT

Face 05

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Thu, 17 Jul 2008 00:03:54 GMT

Face 04

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 22:30:31 GMT

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 06:08:14 GMT

Welcom Pilgrims. Rest your weary, atavistic feet awhile.
Our city welcoms paying for your hymns, road closures, car removals, corralling of public spaces like Hyde Park and attempted draconian state laws enacted to prevent annoyance and inconvenience to you by our meagre protestations.

World Youth Day (Actually Only for Catholic Youths Plus All the Old Folk Who Came Anyway to Eyeball Pope Palpatine) - it was so enlightening to see you young un's living it up by carrying The Cross through the city on your backs. Smiling!

How do you achieve that kind of levity? The one where fun and guilt are wrapped up so tightly it was indistinguishable from reason?
Wait - I can answer that.

I hope you have the time of your eternal life, so sayeth your advertising slogan, because fusty antiquity is all I smell here.

I've been to the dentist, the anesthetic is wearing off and reality is returning in a grumpy bloodshot manner.

Face 03

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 23:39:12 GMT

It's an Italian tank driver's helmet.

Face 02

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 01:05:47 GMT

Face 01

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Sun, 13 Jul 2008 08:27:48 GMT

mutleyjames@gmail.com — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 06:30:49 GMT

We went and saw Kung Fu Panda last night. I'll watch a movie if Jack Black is in a Panda suit and forced to fight.