Lovely clam, wonderful clam... ♫
Ah, the ever elusive bivavled mollusc. So rare unto The Xym.
And, for once, one is not bewailing one's lack of bearded clam, or Lady Pearls embedded within furry oysters for a great fat walrus (or carpenter) to feast upon.
Although one can no longer jest about the portliness of one's girth. But one is still often hailing space monsters of vessels that traverse betwixt spherical bodies that orbit solar/stellar mass. or something.
No, I'm talking about the mercenaria mercenaria. The hard bastard clam. The Quahog.
I need clams. I got 63, used 50, so left with 13 of the rarest of rare rarities. And with several buildings and shizzle requiring hundreds of the buggers, The Xym is somewhat stuck for shellfish currency.
Yet I visit other Quahogs, and they seem to accumulate all the clam based paraphernalia!
How come everyone else can get their fishy fingers on hundreds of the maritime mollusc, yet after days and days and days I get barely none?
The Xym needs clam, and he needs it now.
Some in-game molluscy money would be handy too...
Tuesday 29 April 2014
Monday 28 April 2014
Run DM Xym...
Right, now, t'other day I was heaping praise upon The Marqu... Owl Sanctuary (A popular Goth classic by Them There Cult, I do believe), and on Saturday was planning a return visit for 'kellas birthday.
However, it turns out that they're having one of them there Hippety Hop nights.
Hoorah! The double-soundproofed back room should save us from the blinged up bros an' hos...
...but has I got nudes for you - it seems that Gansta Style is taking over the entire pub. And you have to pay. On the door. A whole £5.
£5! To sit in an alternative punk & rock bar, listening to Warren G, Snoop Pooper Scoop, Puff Diddling With His Diddy Dick, 2pack of crisps, Eww Tan Clan and A Tribe That's Questionable. or something.
So, what do we do? Relocate to The Wildman, and get hemmed in by shouty trendies, or try and fit in wit' da mamdem down The Owl Sactuary, innit?
Yo, I cans, like, be all da shizzle. Fo' realz blood. I can chill in da bar fo' sho, and has teh drive-by shots of JD. Me an' mah homies git all up in some scrubs grill y'all, and, like, show them biatches who da man. Ya gits me, brah? I just needs me some bling, yeah. Booyakkah. Safe, blood. Safe.
Yeah, I think I can blend in! Dig out the old ghetto threads and it's bootylicious bump & grindin' wit' some bang tidy phat good girl who knows she wants it all the way! Check eet:
Bangin, man. Seriously bangin'.
*Does that gangsta flicky throwy clicky fingers thing*
Wikki Wikki Wikki Wikipedia. or sumt'in.
I's so down wit' da kidz tho, innit like.
However, it turns out that they're having one of them there Hippety Hop nights.
Hoorah! The double-soundproofed back room should save us from the blinged up bros an' hos...
...but has I got nudes for you - it seems that Gansta Style is taking over the entire pub. And you have to pay. On the door. A whole £5.
£5! To sit in an alternative punk & rock bar, listening to Warren G, Snoop Pooper Scoop, Puff Diddling With His Diddy Dick, 2pack of crisps, Eww Tan Clan and A Tribe That's Questionable. or something.
So, what do we do? Relocate to The Wildman, and get hemmed in by shouty trendies, or try and fit in wit' da mamdem down The Owl Sactuary, innit?
Yo, I cans, like, be all da shizzle. Fo' realz blood. I can chill in da bar fo' sho, and has teh drive-by shots of JD. Me an' mah homies git all up in some scrubs grill y'all, and, like, show them biatches who da man. Ya gits me, brah? I just needs me some bling, yeah. Booyakkah. Safe, blood. Safe.
Yeah, I think I can blend in! Dig out the old ghetto threads and it's bootylicious bump & grindin' wit' some bang tidy phat good girl who knows she wants it all the way! Check eet:
*Does that gangsta flicky throwy clicky fingers thing*
Wikki Wikki Wikki Wikipedia. or sumt'in.
I's so down wit' da kidz tho, innit like.
Sunday 27 April 2014
Xym's your private dancer...
Oh My, was last night FUN!!!
So, it's Jacquard Anthems #3 (see the website created by some phenomenal design genius), so I tootle off to The Crypt for another packed out Alternative 80s/90s night...
But alas, many are off to see New Model Army down The Whatacunt tonight, so didn't come out. Or they were at the Whitby Goth Dracula Weekendy Thing, where lots of EMOs ponce about in graveyards, annoying the locals and giving proper Goths a bad name.
Which means...
DANCE FLOOR SPACE!!!
Yay! Free reign for Slim Sym to strut his seductive stuff!
And it seems Dancing Xym (youngish and slim, long past 17) is quite popular with Teh Pretties with his snake hipped shape throwings!
First, 'kella mentioned that one's dance style was transfixing attentions, for it would appear to be somewhat theatrical. Xym as Performance Art!
And it was noted that several groups of enamoured Pretties were admiring The Xym!
Now, there were not many other dancers, but it became quite obvious Xym was something of a focal point! And a talking point. And a gossiping point.
But hey - there were Pretties galore. Most clearly unavailable (as ever), but Xym did get many a shy smile and a captive audience.
Not held captive in a cellar by me, forced to endure hours of watching Xym flounce about. Captive audience as in can't take their eyes off Xym. One does have a somewhat powerful presence (powerful post-scent of BO, more like ← reader's voice)
Why, even one of the hottest Pretties in the venue actually told Xym he was wonderful! Only off the dance floor twice for 5min breaks, and that seems to impress really hot babes! On the downside, it does lead to a dampening...
...of The Xym! 5hrs non-stop frenetic dancing does leave one's shirt all moist upon the back, which is somewhat repellant to Pretties whom are desirous of a hug at the end. Or just plain desirous. or something.
And guess what - as ever, there was one beautiful RedHead who was "really into The Xym", and if The Crypt hadn't commanded a premature ending 30mins earlier, Xym could have pulled. But fate intervened as always, leaving her to be dragged off by her mate, bewailing her lot at having to go home alone.
Which, if she'd waited, she wouldn't have had to.
"Yeah, right, Xym. As if you would have followed up, and chatted her up!"
Well, probably not. But I am getting better at the whole confidence thing. And not fleeing from Pretties.
So, now my "unrequited harem of Pretties what's after Xym (as identified by his Sister)" includes Crypt Barmaid, Jacquard Redhead, 80s Night Greek, Britpop Babe, Rawkus Babe #1, Rawkus Babe #2, Whatacunt Barbabe, and numerous other hottiess my Sister has identified!
Xym so popular!
Looks like I'm going to have to turn Jacquard Anthems into a Hit Man And Her type event, with show dancers. Hire meself out as a theatrical attraction for clubnight podium performance and such.
So, if you have a clubnight, and need an impressive dancer to lure in punters of the Pretties variety, I'm available. And probably cheaper than The Whatacunt's Snakehips guy (AND The Xym doesn't wear denim, Cuban Heels, or a Bandana... unless specifically requested to...)
So, it's Jacquard Anthems #3 (see the website created by some phenomenal design genius), so I tootle off to The Crypt for another packed out Alternative 80s/90s night...
But alas, many are off to see New Model Army down The Whatacunt tonight, so didn't come out. Or they were at the Whitby Goth Dracula Weekendy Thing, where lots of EMOs ponce about in graveyards, annoying the locals and giving proper Goths a bad name.
Which means...
DANCE FLOOR SPACE!!!
Yay! Free reign for Slim Sym to strut his seductive stuff!
And it seems Dancing Xym (youngish and slim, long past 17) is quite popular with Teh Pretties with his snake hipped shape throwings!
First, 'kella mentioned that one's dance style was transfixing attentions, for it would appear to be somewhat theatrical. Xym as Performance Art!
And it was noted that several groups of enamoured Pretties were admiring The Xym!
Now, there were not many other dancers, but it became quite obvious Xym was something of a focal point! And a talking point. And a gossiping point.
But hey - there were Pretties galore. Most clearly unavailable (as ever), but Xym did get many a shy smile and a captive audience.
Not held captive in a cellar by me, forced to endure hours of watching Xym flounce about. Captive audience as in can't take their eyes off Xym. One does have a somewhat powerful presence (powerful post-scent of BO, more like ← reader's voice)
Why, even one of the hottest Pretties in the venue actually told Xym he was wonderful! Only off the dance floor twice for 5min breaks, and that seems to impress really hot babes! On the downside, it does lead to a dampening...
...of The Xym! 5hrs non-stop frenetic dancing does leave one's shirt all moist upon the back, which is somewhat repellant to Pretties whom are desirous of a hug at the end. Or just plain desirous. or something.
And guess what - as ever, there was one beautiful RedHead who was "really into The Xym", and if The Crypt hadn't commanded a premature ending 30mins earlier, Xym could have pulled. But fate intervened as always, leaving her to be dragged off by her mate, bewailing her lot at having to go home alone.
Which, if she'd waited, she wouldn't have had to.
"Yeah, right, Xym. As if you would have followed up, and chatted her up!"
Well, probably not. But I am getting better at the whole confidence thing. And not fleeing from Pretties.
So, now my "unrequited harem of Pretties what's after Xym (as identified by his Sister)" includes Crypt Barmaid, Jacquard Redhead, 80s Night Greek, Britpop Babe, Rawkus Babe #1, Rawkus Babe #2, Whatacunt Barbabe, and numerous other hottiess my Sister has identified!
Xym so popular!
Looks like I'm going to have to turn Jacquard Anthems into a Hit Man And Her type event, with show dancers. Hire meself out as a theatrical attraction for clubnight podium performance and such.
So, if you have a clubnight, and need an impressive dancer to lure in punters of the Pretties variety, I'm available. And probably cheaper than The Whatacunt's Snakehips guy (AND The Xym doesn't wear denim, Cuban Heels, or a Bandana... unless specifically requested to...)
Saturday 26 April 2014
Bagpipes, dear Bagpipes, annoying fucking bagpipes..
Wake up, and look at this thing that I bring!
Ibuprofen. Lots of Ibuprofen.
So, we's three are sat in Starbucks. See No Evil, Hear No Evil, and Speak No Evil. Or just a triplicity of cheeky monkeys
Anyhoo, after much mockery of dresslexics, much perving at passing Pretties, and discourse of many a varied nature, that blight on the landscape stopped outside the window.
The Bagpiper from outside Marks & Spencer.
That honking great cacophony that doth assault all ears, much to the intense dislike of the public.
Anyhoo, he stops and opens his Savers carrier bag, and pulls out a pack of Ibuprofen,
And another...
Then another...
Then a fourth! At least 4 packs of Ibuprofen! Oh wait, he's a piper in full scotchman regalia!
At least 4 packs of IrnBruProfen!
And he immediately downs four tablets in quick successtion, before emptying the boxes and secreting the remaining 60 deep within the dark recesses of his hairy sporran.
That's 4 in under a minute, and preparation to have access to another 60 by rummaging in his groinal bag!
I know listening to bagpipery can drive you mad, and you want to kill yourself to escape the pain of the screeching horny bladder, but it's come to something when you are the actual blower upon said horny bladder and you have to take numerous numbing narcotics just to cope with having to blow your own trumpety behemoth!
Ibuprofen. Lots of Ibuprofen.
So, we's three are sat in Starbucks. See No Evil, Hear No Evil, and Speak No Evil. Or just a triplicity of cheeky monkeys
Anyhoo, after much mockery of dresslexics, much perving at passing Pretties, and discourse of many a varied nature, that blight on the landscape stopped outside the window.
The Bagpiper from outside Marks & Spencer.
That honking great cacophony that doth assault all ears, much to the intense dislike of the public.
Anyhoo, he stops and opens his Savers carrier bag, and pulls out a pack of Ibuprofen,
And another...
Then another...
Then a fourth! At least 4 packs of Ibuprofen! Oh wait, he's a piper in full scotchman regalia!
At least 4 packs of IrnBruProfen!
And he immediately downs four tablets in quick successtion, before emptying the boxes and secreting the remaining 60 deep within the dark recesses of his hairy sporran.
That's 4 in under a minute, and preparation to have access to another 60 by rummaging in his groinal bag!
I know listening to bagpipery can drive you mad, and you want to kill yourself to escape the pain of the screeching horny bladder, but it's come to something when you are the actual blower upon said horny bladder and you have to take numerous numbing narcotics just to cope with having to blow your own trumpety behemoth!
Friday 25 April 2014
The owls are not what they seem...
Shit the bed!
Now, we all remember the revamped Marquee - the pub famed for having no alcohol at all.
Well, tonight it re-opened under New Management... and it is fantastic!
We were supposed to go a-ghostbusting up Tittyshow St Mary, but it was a bit rainy for hunting ectoplasmic ephemera in ruined churches and abandoned graveyards, so it was a case of pubbing it.
So, off to the new Marquee.
Which is no longer The Marquee.
It's The Owl Sanctuary.
Being neither a Sanctuary, nor teeming with any strigiformes of any kind.
But that godawful magnolia/lime winebar color scheme has thankfully gone, and the Back Room double soundproofed tomuffle the screams of organs being harvested from unwilling victims of torture porn fistings sound of the bands. Brilliant - you can sit in the bar, and not have the deafening noise of a band mixing with the jukebox as before!
But best of all... they stock booze. It was packed out, but they had booze. They had booze all night. All kinds of booze.
It's back to how it should be - a proper alternative pub. In fact, it's almost how it used to be, but without the stench of the pissy toilets!
Finally, everything done right! Yay! Think we've refound a regular haunt...
Now, we all remember the revamped Marquee - the pub famed for having no alcohol at all.
Well, tonight it re-opened under New Management... and it is fantastic!
We were supposed to go a-ghostbusting up Tittyshow St Mary, but it was a bit rainy for hunting ectoplasmic ephemera in ruined churches and abandoned graveyards, so it was a case of pubbing it.
So, off to the new Marquee.
Which is no longer The Marquee.
It's The Owl Sanctuary.
Being neither a Sanctuary, nor teeming with any strigiformes of any kind.
But that godawful magnolia/lime winebar color scheme has thankfully gone, and the Back Room double soundproofed to
But best of all... they stock booze. It was packed out, but they had booze. They had booze all night. All kinds of booze.
It's back to how it should be - a proper alternative pub. In fact, it's almost how it used to be, but without the stench of the pissy toilets!
Finally, everything done right! Yay! Think we've refound a regular haunt...
Wednesday 23 April 2014
Proud to be Ingerlish...
Happy St Cruelty-To-Mythical-Beasts Day, where all true Englishmen head up to Scotchland to stab up the blue faced Loch Ness Camel before a slap up feast of cucumber sandwiches, ginger beer, cream scones and a fish'n'chip supper whilst punting up the Cam and beagling on the downs syndromes by setting the foxes on them. or something.
I wouldn't mind having foxes set on me.
Megan Fox, Sam Fox, um... anyone else with the surname Fox!
I wouldn't mind having foxes set on me.
Megan Fox, Sam Fox, um... anyone else with the surname Fox!
Tuesday 22 April 2014
Offensive Xym is offensive...
So.
Some people are offended by Xym's comedy ghetto patois.
Some people are offended by Xym offering assistance.
Interview on Thurs, and it seems I'm already in trub over me blog being all offensive an' shizzle.
And now I's all offended over something else, and I can't say nowt coz I'll offend even more peoples!
Sometimes, I really do wonder why I bother at all!!
But hey-ho. Onwards and upwards. Offensive Xym be, like, all offensive. or sumt'ing, fo' sho'! Ya gits me blood? Fo' realz, bi... ho... ma... br... people!
Some people are offended by Xym's comedy ghetto patois.
Some people are offended by Xym offering assistance.
Interview on Thurs, and it seems I'm already in trub over me blog being all offensive an' shizzle.
And now I's all offended over something else, and I can't say nowt coz I'll offend even more peoples!
Sometimes, I really do wonder why I bother at all!!
But hey-ho. Onwards and upwards. Offensive Xym be, like, all offensive. or sumt'ing, fo' sho'! Ya gits me blood? Fo' realz, bi... ho... ma... br... people!
Monday 21 April 2014
The kids of the Irn Bru nation...
So, in an effort to get Apple Maps working more popular than Google Maps, the spectre of Steve Jobs has been integrating some supernatural spirit photography into the app.
For those of a cryptozoological bent, they've spent hours scouring satellite imagery of Lake Champlain for evidence of Ogopogo, the Congo forUmbongo Mokele Mbembe, And Urquhart Castle for the Loch Ness Camel.
And lo, Nessie hunters discovered Nessie caught on Apple's Satellite cameras! Lookit!
Hold up, that's no pleasureyourselfisaurus! That looks like a great big fuck off trilobite!
"No, Xym, that's clearly a boat, with a bow wave at the front, and rippling out waves as it passes through the water!"
Yeah, right. Show me the boat then! That's one big bug! A trilobite shaped...
...whoa! I wasogling up that there Æryn Sun, I mean, watching Farscape the other night (as PickTV are showing it from the beginning), and that shape looks suspiciously like Moya...
And in Episode 2, there was a Peacekeeper beacon hidden aboard, so they had to dive into a swamp to muffle the signal...
Life imitating art? Has a sentient craft crashed into Loch Ness? Is Rygel stuffing his face full of battered mars bars and deep fried haggis?
Mind you, you wouldn't recognize Zhaan, as all Scotchwomen are blue with the cold. And D'Argo is just like every other fighty scotchman on a night out. Just a shame Æryn & Chiana aren't typical northern slagbags of the Shaz & Tray variety :(.
Anyhoo, fictitional ship from a Sci-Fi series, or a 1950s gigantisized by radiation reptile hell bent on world domination? You decide!
(I has - forget Godzilla! I want to see Trilobite 3D - the destruction of the Scottish Highlands by a thousand foot arthropod. Oooh, and Fish Out Of Marillion can be the plucky hero of the hour! Who wouldn't want to see that! All set to the soundtrack to Script For A Jester's Tear... with a thrilling re-enactment of their classic track Grendel played out to the titanic fight between Fish and Shellfish!)
For those of a cryptozoological bent, they've spent hours scouring satellite imagery of Lake Champlain for evidence of Ogopogo, the Congo for
And lo, Nessie hunters discovered Nessie caught on Apple's Satellite cameras! Lookit!
"No, Xym, that's clearly a boat, with a bow wave at the front, and rippling out waves as it passes through the water!"
Yeah, right. Show me the boat then! That's one big bug! A trilobite shaped...
...whoa! I was
And in Episode 2, there was a Peacekeeper beacon hidden aboard, so they had to dive into a swamp to muffle the signal...
Life imitating art? Has a sentient craft crashed into Loch Ness? Is Rygel stuffing his face full of battered mars bars and deep fried haggis?
Mind you, you wouldn't recognize Zhaan, as all Scotchwomen are blue with the cold. And D'Argo is just like every other fighty scotchman on a night out. Just a shame Æryn & Chiana aren't typical northern slagbags of the Shaz & Tray variety :(.
Anyhoo, fictitional ship from a Sci-Fi series, or a 1950s gigantisized by radiation reptile hell bent on world domination? You decide!
(I has - forget Godzilla! I want to see Trilobite 3D - the destruction of the Scottish Highlands by a thousand foot arthropod. Oooh, and Fish Out Of Marillion can be the plucky hero of the hour! Who wouldn't want to see that! All set to the soundtrack to Script For A Jester's Tear... with a thrilling re-enactment of their classic track Grendel played out to the titanic fight between Fish and Shellfish!)
Sunday 20 April 2014
Diggin' the dancin' Xym...
Yay! Just got back from greet your muff after seeing the legendary Doctor And The Medics!
So, we arrives at the bizarre venue - a converted theatre, with an highly elevated stage and a dancefloor that is about 40° to the horizontal, and within moments, much praise is heaped upon one's legendary barnet!
Bitches love Xymhair!
But there is only a triplicity of Pretties in the scarcely populated venue - two well hot barbabes, and Amber - a young Pretty we acquainted ourselves with.
First, we had to be subjected to The Support - a dreadful 80's Wedding Singer, an ungodly blend of Ricky Gervais, David Guest, George Michael, and assorted other horrors. 45 mins of awful awfulness.
And then on come The Band! And typically, only two people were on the slopey dancefloor. No prizes for guessing who!
Absolutely brilliant - and The Xym, being all slim and exercised thanks to Adrenalize, danced non-stop! Even whipping his jacket off for the best cover of She Sells Sanctuary I've ever heard!
So, after the gig, we stay to meet the band, as the evening becomes Club Night.
Oh, eldritch nightmare! Great Y'ha-nthlei at night! Under a gibbous moon venture out the cream of clubbing totty.
The lumbering loathsomness. The bulbous batrachian behemoths. The squat, toady terrors of amphibious abiguity. The deformed degenerate denizens of the deep. The misshapen, foul, barely human lurkers from below. The...
Well, you get the picture.
No Pretties for Xym here! Never before have I seen Stereotypical Norfolkness in the what-passes-for-scaly-webbed flesh. Why, I veritably feared for our return home, in case of waylayment by cultists bearing clubs carved with bas-relief of their fish-god, Dagon.
Much prefer The Whatacunt - where the grass is green and the Pretties are pretty.
Take.
Me.
Home!
So, we arrives at the bizarre venue - a converted theatre, with an highly elevated stage and a dancefloor that is about 40° to the horizontal, and within moments, much praise is heaped upon one's legendary barnet!
Bitches love Xymhair!
But there is only a triplicity of Pretties in the scarcely populated venue - two well hot barbabes, and Amber - a young Pretty we acquainted ourselves with.
First, we had to be subjected to The Support - a dreadful 80's Wedding Singer, an ungodly blend of Ricky Gervais, David Guest, George Michael, and assorted other horrors. 45 mins of awful awfulness.
And then on come The Band! And typically, only two people were on the slopey dancefloor. No prizes for guessing who!
Absolutely brilliant - and The Xym, being all slim and exercised thanks to Adrenalize, danced non-stop! Even whipping his jacket off for the best cover of She Sells Sanctuary I've ever heard!
So, after the gig, we stay to meet the band, as the evening becomes Club Night.
Oh, eldritch nightmare! Great Y'ha-nthlei at night! Under a gibbous moon venture out the cream of clubbing totty.
The lumbering loathsomness. The bulbous batrachian behemoths. The squat, toady terrors of amphibious abiguity. The deformed degenerate denizens of the deep. The misshapen, foul, barely human lurkers from below. The...
Well, you get the picture.
No Pretties for Xym here! Never before have I seen Stereotypical Norfolkness in the what-passes-for-scaly-webbed flesh. Why, I veritably feared for our return home, in case of waylayment by cultists bearing clubs carved with bas-relief of their fish-god, Dagon.
Much prefer The Whatacunt - where the grass is green and the Pretties are pretty.
Take.
Me.
Home!
Saturday 19 April 2014
Foxx got the runs...
So, today was Independent Record Store Day, where some artists release exclusive limited edition vinyl to promote independent traders, and not be fleeced by Spotify and iTunes and shit.
And, naturally, as some people work on Sat, it's a case of "Xyyyyyym, you're about in the City.... can you pick up a couple of things for us please...."
So, after Bootcamp, I ends up in the City about 10 past 1...
..and there's a queue...
..and some people were queueing overnight!
But this queue is ever so slow - no-one goes in, no-one goes out, no movement - honestly, how hard can it be to walk up, say "Have you got Xxxxxxxxx in?", and walk out if not, or purchase it if they have?
But, 1hr 15mins later, I end up making the 2 shop journey into the shop...
...where all the new special releases are on the counter. In boxes (luckily in alphabetical order).
And so, each preceding person peruses each and every box. Slowly. Picking out records, studying them (slowly), putting them back, reading all the sleevenotes on the next (slower).
But I eventually reach the boxes.
And guess what.
Naturally, the 2 limited edition John Foxx albums I went to collect were not there.
So, I ended up buying a ticket to see the UK Poo Farters tribute act.
Oh, the joys of being available on a Shat Turd Day.
And, naturally, as some people work on Sat, it's a case of "Xyyyyyym, you're about in the City.... can you pick up a couple of things for us please...."
So, after Bootcamp, I ends up in the City about 10 past 1...
..and there's a queue...
..and some people were queueing overnight!
But this queue is ever so slow - no-one goes in, no-one goes out, no movement - honestly, how hard can it be to walk up, say "Have you got Xxxxxxxxx in?", and walk out if not, or purchase it if they have?
But, 1hr 15mins later, I end up making the 2 shop journey into the shop...
...where all the new special releases are on the counter. In boxes (luckily in alphabetical order).
And so, each preceding person peruses each and every box. Slowly. Picking out records, studying them (slowly), putting them back, reading all the sleevenotes on the next (slower).
But I eventually reach the boxes.
And guess what.
Naturally, the 2 limited edition John Foxx albums I went to collect were not there.
So, I ended up buying a ticket to see the UK Poo Farters tribute act.
Oh, the joys of being available on a Shat Turd Day.
Friday 18 April 2014
I'm Sporticus, and so's my wife...
Happy Nail-Up-A-Prophet-Stab-Him-Up-And-Gouge-His-Scalp-With-A-Spiky-Torc Day!
Feasteth ye upon spiced fruit buns emblazoned with bloodstained torture devices in celebratory devourment, for 'tis only 3 days afore we gorge on Creme Eggs in worship of the arising of Zombie Jesus and his ascent up the gravity beam into the spaceship to be sexually experimented on by betentacled space monsters hentai raping his nailholes!
Merry Eostré everyone!
Feasteth ye upon spiced fruit buns emblazoned with bloodstained torture devices in celebratory devourment, for 'tis only 3 days afore we gorge on Creme Eggs in worship of the arising of Zombie Jesus and his ascent up the gravity beam into the spaceship to be sexually experimented on by betentacled space monsters hentai raping his nailholes!
Merry Eostré everyone!
Thursday 17 April 2014
Wednesday 16 April 2014
Tuesday 15 April 2014
I am the end of reproduction...
♪ Given no direction
Every care is taken
In my rejection
Cock in the eye... ♫
And so David J did slew Goliath by tossing his balls out of his sling at him.
And lo, some twattersack took the idea of balls in a sling and created the single sided g-string thong brief for men.
No. Just... no! Wrong on EVERY level! I mean.... it's just WRONG!
I mean, can you see me, out down The Whatacunt, clad only in a UV half-thong as I flounce about the dance floor? Urgh.
I know Teh Pretties like a sex-pack, but seriously - this is just plain... wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong! And wronger yet!
Oooh, what's this in the glow in the dark roads news...
"Mr Roosegaarde's projects aim to help people and technology to interact. His past projects have included a dance floor with built-in disco lights powered by dancers' foot movements, and a dress that becomes see-through when the wearer is aroused."
Forget these sackbags - speak to me more of nudification dresses!!
After all, The Xym isn't very good at recognising Pretties interest in him - this should make it slightly more obvious, even to him!
Sunday 13 April 2014
Gotta love this Birmingham Mail article on someone finding a copy of this game during a house clearance:
Love the overreaction at such a discovery - how a simple board game becomes an embodiment of creepy evil!
I should become a journo - I can turn that boardgame into a creepfest...
Just one look at the box gives the viewer the willies - his left hand creepily caressing the microphone as if wishing it was a young boy's cock, whilst his other hand is "air fingering" the bunghole (or fanny) of a teenage groupie in his dressing room. Clouds of white jizzum erupt from his unseen manhood, threatening to flood the band on the front page, and his unsuspecting prey play on oblivious in the bottom corner. Unaware a huge salacious Savile is looming over them with a horrific paedophillic leer, his hair slick with sweat from excessive masturbation over Teenypops, as a cameraman records the orgy for some sick website...
Can I has a job with the Bare Minge Ham Mail, please...
Love the overreaction at such a discovery - how a simple board game becomes an embodiment of creepy evil!
I should become a journo - I can turn that boardgame into a creepfest...
Just one look at the box gives the viewer the willies - his left hand creepily caressing the microphone as if wishing it was a young boy's cock, whilst his other hand is "air fingering" the bunghole (or fanny) of a teenage groupie in his dressing room. Clouds of white jizzum erupt from his unseen manhood, threatening to flood the band on the front page, and his unsuspecting prey play on oblivious in the bottom corner. Unaware a huge salacious Savile is looming over them with a horrific paedophillic leer, his hair slick with sweat from excessive masturbation over Teenypops, as a cameraman records the orgy for some sick website...
Can I has a job with the Bare Minge Ham Mail, please...
Saturday 12 April 2014
Xym's got legs, he knows how to use 'em...
Shock! Horror! Consternation! Uproar!
Xym is heading out...
WITHOUT his dangly Antflags
WITHOUT his jingle-jangle waistbells
and WITHOUT his Jervis Tetch/Twat Hatter millinery!
Lawks-a-mercy - slim (slum?) Xym is trying boots-on-the-outside skinny jeans for a laugh... I mean... for a change. or something...
[Early morning edit] Whoo-Hoo! Svelte long-legged tight-panted Xym went down a STORM with Teh Pretties! Well... the glowing boots did at least! Sylvie wanted a selfie with the shiny shoes... although she ended up just photogratificating the impressive boots of fame! For Xym is not only THE Xym, He's also The Famous Xym!
Wowsers!
Xym is heading out...
WITHOUT his dangly Antflags
WITHOUT his jingle-jangle waistbells
and WITHOUT his Jervis Tetch/Twat Hatter millinery!
Lawks-a-mercy - slim (slum?) Xym is trying boots-on-the-outside skinny jeans for a laugh... I mean... for a change. or something...
[Early morning edit] Whoo-Hoo! Svelte long-legged tight-panted Xym went down a STORM with Teh Pretties! Well... the glowing boots did at least! Sylvie wanted a selfie with the shiny shoes... although she ended up just photogratificating the impressive boots of fame! For Xym is not only THE Xym, He's also The Famous Xym!
Wowsers!
Wednesday 9 April 2014
Don't count your chickens...
Apparently, you shouldn't count your chickens before they're hatched.
Well Duhr.
That's because it's IMPOSSIBLE!
Mainly because there are no chickens before they hatch. Chickens, before they hatch, are Eggs. So presumably, the proverb should be "Don't count your EGGS before they hatch, in case you fancy an omelette. or a fry up. or something".
Besides, even when eggs hatch, they don't hatch into chickens - they hatch into chicks, who grow into chickens. Roosters, Hens and Cockerels.
So, I respectfully suggest the proverb be amended to:
Don't estimate the accumulated total of poultry based on the quantity of available eggs, as some may be fertilised, some not, and some scrambled by poachers nicking the fish. It is also wise not to pre-dertemine the total quantity of your eventual fowl brood, as post-hatching evolution decrees some chicks will not survive due to the environ. With foxes and bears tearing up the chicken coops. Such variables make calculating your eventual totality of farmyard avian survivors quite indeterminate.
or something.
probably.
Well Duhr.
That's because it's IMPOSSIBLE!
Mainly because there are no chickens before they hatch. Chickens, before they hatch, are Eggs. So presumably, the proverb should be "Don't count your EGGS before they hatch, in case you fancy an omelette. or a fry up. or something".
Besides, even when eggs hatch, they don't hatch into chickens - they hatch into chicks, who grow into chickens. Roosters, Hens and Cockerels.
So, I respectfully suggest the proverb be amended to:
Don't estimate the accumulated total of poultry based on the quantity of available eggs, as some may be fertilised, some not, and some scrambled by poachers nicking the fish. It is also wise not to pre-dertemine the total quantity of your eventual fowl brood, as post-hatching evolution decrees some chicks will not survive due to the environ. With foxes and bears tearing up the chicken coops. Such variables make calculating your eventual totality of farmyard avian survivors quite indeterminate.
or something.
probably.
Tuesday 8 April 2014
At midnight, on the 12th of August...
..., I mean, 6th of April, a huge mass of luminous gas erupted from Mars and sped towards Earth.
So quoth Liam Burton in Jeff Wayne's Musical Version Of H.G. Well's Novel Of Pearson's Gazette's Serialization of H.G. Well's Tale "The War Of The Worlds: The Nude Generation" UllaDubUlla Special Anniversary Extended Deluxe Collectors Edition (live on stage) Remix.
or something.
Remember t'other week, when I was debating making a mocking video of tin-foil hatted wearing loons spotting sports cars on Mars via the Curiosity Killed The Cat Rover?
Well, now they've found evidence of the space monsters attack fleet launch!
Here's a photo from the navcam:
Alien campfire as tentacled terrors in tents terrorize abducted Hillbillies? The fire from the thrust of a launched tripod filled cylinder? Martians raising their arses out of Clanger holes and farting to keep the stench out of their subterrainean warrens, but one witty space monster has lighted his mates flatulent emission? The ghosts of Martians wandering the empty wastes of their long-dead planet? The projectile snot from the sneezing Face On Mars in Cydonia?
Who knows?
NASA knows!
And they're only releasing the image in Black & White, rather than the usual colour images, so they've tampered with it to obfuscate evidence of alien civillization!
...hold on...
...let me zoom in on that white flare...
Gahh - call out Bernard Quatermass before the tripedal insectoids return for The Great Hunt, and kill off all the fucktards...
...NOOOO! TOO LATE!!!!
So quoth Liam Burton in Jeff Wayne's Musical Version Of H.G. Well's Novel Of Pearson's Gazette's Serialization of H.G. Well's Tale "The War Of The Worlds: The Nude Generation" UllaDubUlla Special Anniversary Extended Deluxe Collectors Edition (live on stage) Remix.
or something.
Remember t'other week, when I was debating making a mocking video of tin-foil hatted wearing loons spotting sports cars on Mars via the Curiosity Killed The Cat Rover?
Well, now they've found evidence of the space monsters attack fleet launch!
Here's a photo from the navcam:
Alien campfire as tentacled terrors in tents terrorize abducted Hillbillies? The fire from the thrust of a launched tripod filled cylinder? Martians raising their arses out of Clanger holes and farting to keep the stench out of their subterrainean warrens, but one witty space monster has lighted his mates flatulent emission? The ghosts of Martians wandering the empty wastes of their long-dead planet? The projectile snot from the sneezing Face On Mars in Cydonia?
Who knows?
NASA knows!
And they're only releasing the image in Black & White, rather than the usual colour images, so they've tampered with it to obfuscate evidence of alien civillization!
...hold on...
...let me zoom in on that white flare...
...NOOOO! TOO LATE!!!!
Monday 7 April 2014
Te te te te...
♪ t' t' t' t' testes
Take 'em, feel 'em
Only please don't squeeze 'em
You ain't never gonna peel mine
Respect your balls (respect your balls) ♫
I forgot about this yesterday!
When we were down The Queen Of Iceni, ogling up white haired waitresses, talked turned to the Reload festival in September, where we get to see Kool & The Gang, Soul II Soul, Rick Astley, ABC, Go West, Hot Chocolate, Imagination, Odyssey, and From The Jam (Saturday), and The Human League, Billy Ocean, Sister Sledge, Jason Donovan, Heaven 17, Aswad, Five Star, Bjørn Again, and The Real Thing (Sunday).
A fine line up, I think you'll agree1!
Anyhoo, 80s nostalgia took us back to Mel & Kim, and how me & Eva Patel used to do the "Respectable" dance at college!
And then we thought, well, them Pretties had #NoMakeUpSelfie... then tried to get manporn by inventing #CockInASock (or #ManUpInMakeUp for badtrannyporn) - why not replace the phrase "respectable" with "respect your balls" for testicular cancer?
It would be great fun on 80s nights, when the Applebys are played, and everyone joins in with "Respect Your Balls"!
Well, it was a right laff in the pub!
That said... Mel did die a cancerous death, so maybe a cancer prevention pastiché of their top pop hit is slightly inappropriate.
But she didn't have a cock'n'balls, so it shouldn't really infringe (in minge?) on copyright...
1 NO, WE DON'T! APART FROM HUMAN LEAGUE! LET'S ALL GO AND LOOK SMUG, AND TRY AND MAKE EVERYONE THINK GOFFS ARE JASON DONOVAN FANS...
Sunday 6 April 2014
Shyness can stop Xym...
...from doing all the birds he'd really like to.
or something,.
So, last night was another friends Birthday bash, and we begin in the Ghostly Whore's Ears pub.
Where the previous tenants have nicked off with the speakers, so you sit in silence, cautious that every word is overheard. But a few drinkles later, everyone is happy.
So a couple of us trundle off for a bout of Psytrance clubbery!
Yes, Xym, The Mardy Otters and The Phoarder went to Calm a Café in the cellar to "rave out" in the hard dance acid rave that is Psytrance.
Pissed and passed out patrons on the sofa - exactly how at THOSE prices, I don't know! But we were loving it! Riverdancing, Hoe-Downs, Twerking, Zumba - we know how to partay!
And then The Phwoarder showed us how to gas peddle up against a wall, and naturally, Xym was encouraged with all his new exercised energy & slimness to mount the wall in inverse twerkage to entertain The Pretties.
And so he did.
What Xym did not cater for, was the slimey slipperyness of the wall in question, and the venue's laxity of attention to Health and Safety, leading to wall descent entanglement with floor strewn electrical cables, thus ripping electrial plugs out of the sockets, disengaging the flex from the appliance, and leading to an imbalance upon the table, resulting in the toppling of the hand-held UV lamp and the shatterage of the blacklight bulb, providing a shower of scattered shards upon the dance floor.
Which was amusing.
But The Phwoarder had to leave early, and Chivalrous Xym once more performed Gentlemanly Escortage to ensure the safety of Pretties.
So, a top night!
And today was the Birthday Lunch at The Queen Of I Seen Knee.
Which would have been great, if not for the lack of stuffed balls, the presence of Smash and shoe leather, and not being able to revisit the bar due to embarassment thanks to a Mardy Otter approaching the hot, hot, hot, white haired Barbabe, and "making enquiries".
Y'all know The Xym - totally afear'd of approaching people in general, let alone Pretties. And then Mr G lets Pretties know Xym likes them, so Xym is now doubly shy. Then carps on about Going For It, or Asking For Her Number, making Xym triply embarassed, and even more in a panic!
Pressure, pressure, pressure! The Xym don't like it!!
One day, though, I will surprise you all! Xym will man up, approach one of the Pretties he so admires, engage in converse, and mayhap even get somewhat close.
But that day is not one in which he is pestered and badgered and forced into doing it!
or something,.
So, last night was another friends Birthday bash, and we begin in the Ghostly Whore's Ears pub.
Where the previous tenants have nicked off with the speakers, so you sit in silence, cautious that every word is overheard. But a few drinkles later, everyone is happy.
So a couple of us trundle off for a bout of Psytrance clubbery!
Yes, Xym, The Mardy Otters and The Phoarder went to Calm a Café in the cellar to "rave out" in the hard dance acid rave that is Psytrance.
Pissed and passed out patrons on the sofa - exactly how at THOSE prices, I don't know! But we were loving it! Riverdancing, Hoe-Downs, Twerking, Zumba - we know how to partay!
And then The Phwoarder showed us how to gas peddle up against a wall, and naturally, Xym was encouraged with all his new exercised energy & slimness to mount the wall in inverse twerkage to entertain The Pretties.
And so he did.
What Xym did not cater for, was the slimey slipperyness of the wall in question, and the venue's laxity of attention to Health and Safety, leading to wall descent entanglement with floor strewn electrical cables, thus ripping electrial plugs out of the sockets, disengaging the flex from the appliance, and leading to an imbalance upon the table, resulting in the toppling of the hand-held UV lamp and the shatterage of the blacklight bulb, providing a shower of scattered shards upon the dance floor.
Which was amusing.
But The Phwoarder had to leave early, and Chivalrous Xym once more performed Gentlemanly Escortage to ensure the safety of Pretties.
So, a top night!
And today was the Birthday Lunch at The Queen Of I Seen Knee.
Which would have been great, if not for the lack of stuffed balls, the presence of Smash and shoe leather, and not being able to revisit the bar due to embarassment thanks to a Mardy Otter approaching the hot, hot, hot, white haired Barbabe, and "making enquiries".
Y'all know The Xym - totally afear'd of approaching people in general, let alone Pretties. And then Mr G lets Pretties know Xym likes them, so Xym is now doubly shy. Then carps on about Going For It, or Asking For Her Number, making Xym triply embarassed, and even more in a panic!
Pressure, pressure, pressure! The Xym don't like it!!
One day, though, I will surprise you all! Xym will man up, approach one of the Pretties he so admires, engage in converse, and mayhap even get somewhat close.
But that day is not one in which he is pestered and badgered and forced into doing it!
Saturday 5 April 2014
Get Xym to the Greek...
Oooh! Remember not so long back, The Xym sorta got chatted up by a Pretty at 80s night/HitParade down The Whatacunt?
Well, just got back from last night's shenannigans for my Sister Jo's birthday bash, and interesting developments developeded. probably. or something...
But first - Boy George! Finally got to see Boy George! Supported by Skinny Lister - described themselves as an English Folk Sea Shanty band... turned out to be The Pogues without a Pennywhistle, and a cute babe instead of Shane McGowan.
But Boy George and his nine-piece is no Culture Club.
First song: Reggae. Second song: Reggae. Third song: Reggae and I'm a-Grrrrrrr! It's like being at a UB40 concert
Fourth song... Everything I own... didn't UB40 do that too? But at least Boy George did in 1987, but this is even more slooooow and reggaefied,,,
And so it went on. Reggae, Blues, Jazz, Swing... slow, slow, slow! Even the classics re-arranged, stripped down, and back to bare bones reggae.
So, not what I expected! Good, but not worth £27.50.
Anyhoo, After BG leaves, it's straight into the club night, and I join my compatriots bewailing the disappointment of BG, as I wait for Birthday Girl to arrive.
But Birthday Sister is delayed, as her chauffeur has lost the car park ticket!
But the crew finally arrives, and my Sister is driven to tears by her birthday surprise. Quite emotional, my sister is!
Anyhoo, the night progresses, and I ends up outside talking to my Hairdresser, Midge, when I gets approached by the self-same sexy siren from before!
Who now knows I'm not gay.
Then came much interrogation! Is that my wife? Your girlfriend? No - that's me barnet fondler! Is that your wife? Your girlfriend? No - That's me sister!
So, it turns out my Pretty is Greek, who teaches English to the English (eh?), and still wants to dance with me! So, she heads in with her mate, and after some "Who's THAT Xym?" questionings later, I heads in.
Now, it's 80s night, so I'm in me Flock Of Seagulls haircut and 3D specs, so my vision is somewhat limited. But although I can't see my Greek Goddess, I find my crew in the usual spot. Dancy, dancy, dancy...
...when up comes my Pretty for her dance - and ooooooh, the green-eyed monster comes out in my friends as we dance. But New Greek Pretty sees my other Greek friend, and squeals all round - they know each other! Small world, innit!
As they embrace, my jealous friend grabs me hand, and forcibly drags me to t'other side of the dance floor for a dance...
...oh dear... Flee, Xym, flee! Sis, Sis, help! It's all going wrong! Don't worry Bruv, I just met her in the toilets, and she was singing your praises! She's well into you! Cripes...
And lo, I creep back downstairs, and run into El Greco with her mates, and I'm hers now. Dancey, dancey, dance, and her mates sidle off...
...urk...
...well, looks like I've pulled here! Oh wait, her friends are returning...
...and surrounding her...
...and moving off towards the exit...
...hold on, she's gone too! They've snaffled her off!! Quick - drag her away before the strange man makes a move on her!
Just my luck!
So, Xym almost pulled... but, as ever, it all comes to naught.
Well, just got back from last night's shenannigans for my Sister Jo's birthday bash, and interesting developments developeded. probably. or something...
But first - Boy George! Finally got to see Boy George! Supported by Skinny Lister - described themselves as an English Folk Sea Shanty band... turned out to be The Pogues without a Pennywhistle, and a cute babe instead of Shane McGowan.
But Boy George and his nine-piece is no Culture Club.
First song: Reggae. Second song: Reggae. Third song: Reggae and I'm a-Grrrrrrr! It's like being at a UB40 concert
Fourth song... Everything I own... didn't UB40 do that too? But at least Boy George did in 1987, but this is even more slooooow and reggaefied,,,
And so it went on. Reggae, Blues, Jazz, Swing... slow, slow, slow! Even the classics re-arranged, stripped down, and back to bare bones reggae.
So, not what I expected! Good, but not worth £27.50.
Anyhoo, After BG leaves, it's straight into the club night, and I join my compatriots bewailing the disappointment of BG, as I wait for Birthday Girl to arrive.
But Birthday Sister is delayed, as her chauffeur has lost the car park ticket!
But the crew finally arrives, and my Sister is driven to tears by her birthday surprise. Quite emotional, my sister is!
Anyhoo, the night progresses, and I ends up outside talking to my Hairdresser, Midge, when I gets approached by the self-same sexy siren from before!
Who now knows I'm not gay.
Then came much interrogation! Is that my wife? Your girlfriend? No - that's me barnet fondler! Is that your wife? Your girlfriend? No - That's me sister!
So, it turns out my Pretty is Greek, who teaches English to the English (eh?), and still wants to dance with me! So, she heads in with her mate, and after some "Who's THAT Xym?" questionings later, I heads in.
Now, it's 80s night, so I'm in me Flock Of Seagulls haircut and 3D specs, so my vision is somewhat limited. But although I can't see my Greek Goddess, I find my crew in the usual spot. Dancy, dancy, dancy...
...when up comes my Pretty for her dance - and ooooooh, the green-eyed monster comes out in my friends as we dance. But New Greek Pretty sees my other Greek friend, and squeals all round - they know each other! Small world, innit!
As they embrace, my jealous friend grabs me hand, and forcibly drags me to t'other side of the dance floor for a dance...
...oh dear... Flee, Xym, flee! Sis, Sis, help! It's all going wrong! Don't worry Bruv, I just met her in the toilets, and she was singing your praises! She's well into you! Cripes...
And lo, I creep back downstairs, and run into El Greco with her mates, and I'm hers now. Dancey, dancey, dance, and her mates sidle off...
...urk...
...well, looks like I've pulled here! Oh wait, her friends are returning...
...and surrounding her...
...and moving off towards the exit...
...hold on, she's gone too! They've snaffled her off!! Quick - drag her away before the strange man makes a move on her!
Just my luck!
So, Xym almost pulled... but, as ever, it all comes to naught.
Friday 4 April 2014
Useless Xym is useless...
Why the feck do I bother.
I was all jazzed up about me website, everyone's raving about it, and some twatarse promotes it with...
"It's a bit goth, but the content is better"...
In other words - it looks shit, but there's some good words on it.
Well fuck you! Fuck you, the horse you rode in on, the whores you rode on, yer mum and yer website.
Thanks for nothing, you ungrateful gobshite.
I was all jazzed up about me website, everyone's raving about it, and some twatarse promotes it with...
"It's a bit goth, but the content is better"...
In other words - it looks shit, but there's some good words on it.
Well fuck you! Fuck you, the horse you rode in on, the whores you rode on, yer mum and yer website.
Thanks for nothing, you ungrateful gobshite.
Thursday 3 April 2014
Creative Xym is creative...
Apologies for the lack of updates o'er the last 2 weeks, but Xym hath been busy bees!
Job hunting
I finally signed on (after being told I had to have <£x savings, turns out I didn't, & could've signed on straight away). Anyhoo, a LOT of time has been spend fulfilling The Governments Rules on Job Hunting :(
Exorcising
Casting out the Mammon! Since starting Adrenalize, Xym hath lost 20lb, 3" off me waist, 4" off me belly, and body fat down 5.6%! Go me!!
Spiderxym
Takes a web, any site, commissioned to redesign!
So, I gets a message through That There Facebook: "Are you still on the job hunt scene? If you have a moment I would like a quick chat with you."
Oooh! Jobby job job?
Alas no - people hath once more been extolling the virtues of virtuoso Xym and spreading word of his mavellousness. And so Xym has been charged with having a look at the orangey overcomplicated mess of a website and seeing what he can do with it.
So, I has spent ages redesigning the Jaquard Anthems Website! And here is the result of my much more user-friendly simplified tinkerings:
Ooooh! Not only is it cleaner, with less too-small unreadable embeds with scrollbars, but is now readable on tablets and phones! And I gave it a forum too! You ask - I deliver!
And the new logo? Yes, that IS John and Jon, all Sisters Of Mercified! A couple of people have asked how I did it, so here's how...
The making of a logo
1. Have a fabbo idea!
The logo was inspired by John "King Of The Goths" Faircloth, who is a huge Sisters fan, so I thought it would be fun to create him in a Sisters Style.
So, as I starting point, I looked at the classic logo on the Greatest Hits cover:
Simple enough - three rings, some text, and a face looking up and to the left.
2. Choose the base image
Well, I can reverse that image, and with a bit of rotating, I can get John in the correct position to create the black & white outline.
However, John isn't the only DJ. What about John Fry?
So, somehow I need to incorporate the two.
As I like the circled text, is there another logo I could find to replace the solitary head?
3. Central 'head' replacement
Well, the nearest Sisters image is this. A face, one head, tilted looking upwards...
I can work from this - how about I put a dividing line down the centre, and have it half-and-half?
Right - concept in place. Let's start creating a logo
4. The easy bit!
Powerpoint!
Why powerpoint? Because I only have Photoshop CS2, and it doesn't allow me to create circular lettering.
So, on a new slide, I created a set of concentric rings.
Next - I added some text using 2 WordArt objects. One containing "Jon Fry & John Faircloth'*, & the other containing "● Jacquard Anthems ●"
*as you can see, the names are now in a different order - see below.
Then, using Format > Text Effects > Transform, the circular text was created.
The font used was Caslon Antique, which comes as a standard font with Windows and looks somewhat Sistersy (if not the actual font itself!).
5. Base image #2
Now I just need a photo of the DJs to base the head on.
Luckily, this was captured at the last event, so I have the two together...
...and as John is on the left, and Jon on the right, this is why their names are in this order in the logo.
6. Photoshop!
Now I have to create the basis for the faces, and merge the two into one!
A bit of cut, paste, rotation, and I manage to create this ungodly hybid!
Right, on with the tracing...
7. First attempt...
Create a new layer, and roughly draw in the outlines...
What a blinking mess - really hard to draw steadily with a mouse! And me tablet pen has decided not to work at all! Still - it's a rough idea how it may turn out.
8. Second attempt
Well, now I has to train meself in how to draw curved lines in Photoshop! I used to use PaintShopPro, so unfamiliar with Photoshop and it's bizarre methods!
But one google session later on Path Stroking (oo-er missus) and I gets nice smooth lines! A few plotted points on a new layer, and we get this image.
(I had to move John in a bit, to compensate for being at an angle to the camera, and not head-on)
9. Completing the 2 face for inclusion
Finally, I drop in a layer between the photo and the drawn lines, and fill it with a block black.
Am I happy with that? You bet I am!!
Oh FFs, I spent all that time on John's beard beads, I missed his dangler out! Oh well, earrings aren't the be all and and all!
10. Final composition
Finally, I copied the Powerpoint slide and pasted it into Photoshop as a new layer, removed the central circle and positioned it accordingly. And this gives us the final, completed logo:
God, I'm totes amazeballs!
Job hunting
I finally signed on (after being told I had to have <£x savings, turns out I didn't, & could've signed on straight away). Anyhoo, a LOT of time has been spend fulfilling The Governments Rules on Job Hunting :(
Exorcising
Casting out the Mammon! Since starting Adrenalize, Xym hath lost 20lb, 3" off me waist, 4" off me belly, and body fat down 5.6%! Go me!!
Spiderxym
Takes a web, any site, commissioned to redesign!
So, I gets a message through That There Facebook: "Are you still on the job hunt scene? If you have a moment I would like a quick chat with you."
Oooh! Jobby job job?
Alas no - people hath once more been extolling the virtues of virtuoso Xym and spreading word of his mavellousness. And so Xym has been charged with having a look at the orangey overcomplicated mess of a website and seeing what he can do with it.
So, I has spent ages redesigning the Jaquard Anthems Website! And here is the result of my much more user-friendly simplified tinkerings:
Ooooh! Not only is it cleaner, with less too-small unreadable embeds with scrollbars, but is now readable on tablets and phones! And I gave it a forum too! You ask - I deliver!
And the new logo? Yes, that IS John and Jon, all Sisters Of Mercified! A couple of people have asked how I did it, so here's how...
The making of a logo
1. Have a fabbo idea!
So, as I starting point, I looked at the classic logo on the Greatest Hits cover:
Simple enough - three rings, some text, and a face looking up and to the left.
2. Choose the base image
However, John isn't the only DJ. What about John Fry?
So, somehow I need to incorporate the two.
As I like the circled text, is there another logo I could find to replace the solitary head?
3. Central 'head' replacement
I can work from this - how about I put a dividing line down the centre, and have it half-and-half?
Right - concept in place. Let's start creating a logo
4. The easy bit!
Why powerpoint? Because I only have Photoshop CS2, and it doesn't allow me to create circular lettering.
So, on a new slide, I created a set of concentric rings.
Next - I added some text using 2 WordArt objects. One containing "Jon Fry & John Faircloth'*, & the other containing "● Jacquard Anthems ●"
*as you can see, the names are now in a different order - see below.
Then, using Format > Text Effects > Transform, the circular text was created.
The font used was Caslon Antique, which comes as a standard font with Windows and looks somewhat Sistersy (if not the actual font itself!).
5. Base image #2
Luckily, this was captured at the last event, so I have the two together...
...and as John is on the left, and Jon on the right, this is why their names are in this order in the logo.
6. Photoshop!
A bit of cut, paste, rotation, and I manage to create this ungodly hybid!
Right, on with the tracing...
7. First attempt...
What a blinking mess - really hard to draw steadily with a mouse! And me tablet pen has decided not to work at all! Still - it's a rough idea how it may turn out.
8. Second attempt
But one google session later on Path Stroking (oo-er missus) and I gets nice smooth lines! A few plotted points on a new layer, and we get this image.
(I had to move John in a bit, to compensate for being at an angle to the camera, and not head-on)
9. Completing the 2 face for inclusion
Am I happy with that? You bet I am!!
Oh FFs, I spent all that time on John's beard beads, I missed his dangler out! Oh well, earrings aren't the be all and and all!
10. Final composition
Finally, I copied the Powerpoint slide and pasted it into Photoshop as a new layer, removed the central circle and positioned it accordingly. And this gives us the final, completed logo:
God, I'm totes amazeballs!
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