Afishionados,

I’ve got a bad cold, and so I decided to make myself some chicken noodle soup. Microwaved from a Campbell’s can, just like mom used to reheat. This part went rather well, actually. I also filled a glass with ice cubes, as a means to chill my delicious Coca-Cola (I’m am addict). This part went okay, too. The problem came when I went for the pour. Because my eyes, with tears flowing like water from Niagara Falls, and my runny nose, with snot running like water from Niagara Falls, I felt my way to the open can of Coke like Ray Charles in a maze (not at Niagara Falls) and went to pour it into my frosty glass. But I missed the glass and poured it directly into my bowl of chicken noodle soup instead. But, I’m so sick, I didn’t even fucking care. I ate the soup anyway. It’s not like I could taste anything anyway.

Afishionados,

Target gift cards specify “Ages 1½+” in the lower right-hand corner. And, honestly, what child wouldn’t want a nice plastic gift card in place of a toy? Remember, your kids are never too young to start being a part of corporate greed!

Afishionados,

This post comes with fine print. You must agree to the following terms and conditions before reading this post. If you do not agree, click here to go to a happy place.

By reading this post you agree with everything written, said, and/or posted on this blog. By reading this post you acknowledge that you might be one of (though certainly not limited to) the following:

Article I.

1. An Ubercunt.
2. An alcoholic.
3. An Evil Bitch.
4. A drug addict.
5. An absolute waste of human life.
6. A vindictive asshole.
7. A hypochondriac.
8. A liar.

By printing this post or any part of Old Fish and Lemonade and mailing it to ANY attorney you agree to ALL of the following:

Article II.

1. You agree to pay me $15,000 in cash.
2. You’re not worthy of the air you breathe.
3. Everything that I say is always right.
4. You’re completely incapable of doing anything for yourself because you can’t stand up to your parents.
5. I am absolutely fucking awesome.

If you do not agree with ALL of the above you are in violation of the terms and conditions hereby in effect immediately by order of the Awesome King as of this moment on Friday, November 30th in the year of our Lord 2007.

These terms and conditions do not apply to “Fellow Inmates” with the exception of Article II: Section 5.

::Whew:: Sorry about that. It seems that my Fairy Tale post has ruffled some feathers so I had to add a disclaimer for this one. Now, on with the post. And remember, NO PRINTING AND MAILING to attorneys without agreeing to the terms and conditions of this blog. Any similarities to persons or things in real life, no matter how guilty those persons or things’ consciences may be, is pure coincidence.

The Evil Bitch

Once upon a time in Magical Happy Land there lived an Evil Bitch. She was annoying, had short hair, and hunched a lot.

The Hideous and Overweight Scourge of the Land: The Ubercunt

The Evil Bitch could never do anything without the permission of the mentally unstable Ubercunt. No matter how much she thought she was independent, the Evil Bitch was not capable of thinking for herself or making decisions on her own, for fear of upsetting the Ubercunt. Upsetting the Ubercunt would only lead to panic attacks, severe dramatic upchucking, and a fast, albeit pointless, trip to the Room of Emergency.

One day, the Ubercunt got it in her head to continually pester the Awesome King by making shit up and sending him copies of his fairy tales by means of a Loiyar. Though the Ubercunt considered herself a super hero, the reality is that she was nothing more than a fat Ubercunt in really bad tights.

The Ubercunt on its cell phone.

One of the claims of the Ubercunt and the Evil Bitch was that the Awesome King had been “text messaging derogatory messages” to the Ubercunt’s phone. This was not at all true, however, and the Awesome King would be MORE THAN HAPPY AND WILLING to submit the last few records of his cell phone statements as proof. After all, the Awesome King only gets 200 text messages a month with His Majesty’s Service Plan, and why would he waste them on the Ubercunt when he’s since met so many beautiful women at college and work?

The Ubercunt and the Evil Bitch also feared that a specific line from the Awesome King’s Fairy Tale was a threat to their life. “If only they could be silenced forever”. The Awesome King was confused by their reaction to a fictitious tale, and certainly never planned to take the lives of anyone. Especially not with gas at $3.15 a gallon. Sadly, the Ubercunt and Evil Bitch were gravely mistaken if they thought that the Awesome King cared enough to travel so far to do such things. No, children, the Awesome King would never do that. The Awesome King never meant it as a death threat. But no one ever said that the Ubercunt or the Evil Bitch were intelligent and that the Awesome King’s schedule certainly did not revolve around them and their guilty consciences.

The Ubercunt, after learning that the world does not, in fact, revolve around her or the Evil Bitch.

In the end, the Awesome King also reminded the Ubercunt and the Evil Bitch that there existed, even in Magical Happy Land, the Bill of Rights. The Bill of Rights happened to include the First Amendment, which states:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

This gave the Awesome King the ability to continue to write his fictitious stories and share them with his followers and admirers throughout all of Magical Happy Land.

And so, the Awesome King continued to live a happier life with his newfound friends from school and work and the memories of much, MUCH happier times.

Afishionados,

My sister, her husband, and their children are in town for the Thanksgiving holiday weekend. My nephew is 4 and my niece is 1-and-a-half. I love them and usually it’s good to see all of them, but there are moments when I wish that the kids were still in Cleveland where they belong. For example:

My nephew, Austin, is mostly potty trained. I say mostly because he can do everything except wipe his own ass. A skill that, in my opinion, is essential to human survival and one that everyone should possess. Unfortunately, Austin hasn’t quite reached this milestone yet.

A few days ago, I found myself alone in the house with just Austin and Kevin, my other sister’s fiance’. Kevin and I were sitting at the kitchen table surfing the Internet when Austin decided to run like hell to the bathroom (which is just outside the kitchen) and shut the door. Aside from the speed at which the child had moved, I didn’t think much of it. And then the door slowly creaked open, and the a small, squeaky voice announced, “Uncle Atlas, I pooped!”

At first I thought that perhaps Satan was just a soprano and was playing an evil trick on me. And then the voice spoke again. “Uncle Atlas, I said I poooooooooooooped!” I looked at Kevin and he looked at me. His ashen face was like that of a deer’s just mere moments before a van drives into it at 100 MPH.

“Not it,” he said to me as Austin continued to stand in the doorway, pants around his ankles and continuing with the updated status reports of what he had just accomplished.

Kevin is a doctor and a future pediatrician. Apparently, the noxious fumes from Austin’s festering floaters had permeated his brain, causing cell damage and creating a momentary lapse in memory and judgment. Clearly, Kevin was misinformed. And so I took it upon myself to correct his misguided outlook.

“I’m a graphic designer. You’re the pediatrician. If Austin needs crayons or coloring books, I’m there for him. But if there’s chunks in his cheeks, that’s your line of work. Start wiping.”

In the end (no pun intended), Austin wiped his own ass and Kevin gave a thorough inspection. Austin had done just fine by himself, washed his hands, and stepped out from the bathroom. As he approached the table, I congratulated him on his success. “Good job, Austin. Today, you became a man!”

I had a similar experience with Austin this past summer, when I really was the only one (besides him) in the house. My sister and my mother had gone out shopping, and Austin told me that he had to poop. So I did what any paranoid man would do: I sent a text message to both their cell phones.

“Austin has to poop. Come home soon.”

Thankfully, my ingenious plan worked and they arrived within minutes. Of course, I was prepared and had a backup plan in place. If mom and sis had not returned in time, Austin would have been stripped naked and placed safely and securely in a bathtub full of water until someone (anyone) came home.

Afishionados,

Tonight was my last night with the Photocopy Queen. A BIG HOORAY to this, as I will never take another one of her classes ever again. What an uppity bitch she is. She works in Cincinnati at some design firm but lives and commutes to Dayton to teach. So she is always¹ in a FABULOUS mood when she arrives for class at 5:30 P.M. Tonight was no different. I’m pretty sure that my class is the worst she’s ever had, which isn’t really fair because most people do their work and turn it in on time. There are a couple of people that seem to have ruined it for the rest of us. I think the real problem is that most of the students in my class have personalities and the Photocopy Queen (PQ) doesn’t.

My final project was to create an brochure or pamphlet for my musician (Mozart). The way that the PQ wanted us to design the project was just as retarded as all her other “ideas”. Create a really nice comprehensive mockup and then (any guesses?) photocopy it for the final piece. If you have to, you may glue additional elements to your final piece as necessary.

No, I didn’t make a typo. You read that correctly. I said “glue”. Who the hell glues things into a FINAL brochure project? I can understand gluing two prints together to form a brochure, but I would never in a million years glue something inside a finished piece.

There is also a serious problem with students using images they found online inside their brochures. Copyright issues aside, the biggest problem with this is that the images are typically at resolutions of 72 dpi (dots per inch). This looks great on your monitor, but looks like total shit when you print it out. But nobody seems to be able to grasp this concept and of course the PQ never explained it to anyone. To better understand how poor 72 dpi is for printing, consider that a newspaper is about 150 dpi and most printed material you see (magazines, photos, books…etc.) is 300 dpi or better.

My classmates can be thankful that I am not their professor, because I would fail you instantly for using pixelated images in any final work that you turn into me. Instant F, no questions asked. I am a resolution Nazi.

I created my whole project by cheating with Photoshop at 300 dpi so it looked perfect when printed. I created a cover and back from scratch using an old leather texture. The cover should look familiar, because it’s what I was working on when I decided to redo Old Fish and Lemonade’s appearance. It even uses the same font.

Click for larger size (800 pixels wide)

All the burns, stains, and “spine crease” were added by me. There is also a gradient and burnt effect added to the text, in addition to separate stains for the W and the A (Wolfgang Amadeus, in case you were wondering). I “carved” the corner pieces out of a brass texture and added stains and cracks to them to make them look older as well.

Click for larger size (800 pixels wide)

There were 16 panel pieces in total, but these are the parts of the brochure that I like the best so I’m not showing you the other 6. The brochure unfolds to this “mini poster” made up of the interior 8 panels.

Notice the return of my flowery violin pattern! I wanted to use it somewhere in my final project and I’m glad I did. Also notice that the treble clef is stained inside and slightly blurred to look like an antique drawing or print. The text over Mozart’s head is a snippet from a biography paper we had to write about our musician and is typed in one of my favorite fonts. I added a slight golden glow to the text to make it look older, stained, and easier to read. The quote is from Mozart and is meant as a jab to the PQ and her ignorant beliefs about photocopying everything. I think my approach is better than hers.

The final brochure is 8.5 inches high and 17 inches wide. I printed the two parts on a plotter and used a spray adhesive (Barbaro in a can) to stick them together. I trimmed the edges so that they lined up then folded it together so it ultimately became a 4.25 inch brochure that unfolds into a poster. No glue or photocopying required!

Perhaps I am too conceited, but my brochure was one of the VERY few brochures that didn’t suck horribly. It really did look better than everyone else’s and I’m glad that I used the computer and Photoshop, despite the bitching of the PQ.

¹Never

Afishionados,

It seems my cheapo printer has decided to terminate our relationship. It dumped me tonight, and I am a little sad inside. I was trying to print some stuff from Illustrator this evening and she decided to freeze up on me and throw a tantrum. I pushed her buttons, I admit, but she still wouldn’t help me out. Instead, she tossed me to the curb.

The reason, she says, is because I have an unsupported personality. She wouldn’t print my project out. No, sir. Instead I got this goodbye letter. I took a photo so you could see it. That just hurts. Hurts like a deep paper cut right through my heart.

Afishionados,

It’s always been my intention to be as compatible with as many computer configurations as possible. Unfortunately, the other guys just don’t always play fair. I’ve been using the Anarchy Media Player to display all my videos in Flash format, because everyone has Flash these days. It’s the same video format as YouTube.

Microsoft, however, has fucked up something in Internet Explorer 7, which has rendered Anarchy Media Player incompatible. And, of course, the Flash files won’t play without it, even with the Adobe Flash plugin.

So, friends (and enemies), from now on, Old Fish and Lemonade is embracing Apple’s QuickTime video format for any and all future video posts. It’s a free download, so go get it. www.apple.com/quicktime/download. Seriously. It’s a thousand and one times better than Microsloth’s Windoze Media Player. Do you have an iPod? Then you have QuickTime installed already, cuz you need it to use iTunes. Congratulations.

Goddamn I hate Microsoft.

Afishionados,

I took an exam today in hopes of testing out of an Introduction to the Macintosh Operating System class when I go back to college on September 5th. I’ve been using Macs since the original Titanium PowerBook came out circa 2001. And I’ve been using Mac OS X since version 10.1 came out.

So, I expected this class to be relatively easy. You have an hour to answer a written test, as well as perform a “hand on” portion. The class is designed to teach you how to use Mac OS X, so I assumed that the questions would relate to this simple objective. How difficult could it possibly be?

The test started out very simple:

1. How is the X in Mac OS X pronounced?

“Okay,” I thought, “no problem. This test is easy.”

Then weird shit started getting asked.

What are the three basic types of keys on the Macintosh keyboard?

What? I didn’t know there were three basic types of keys. Function and… what else? Letter key? Number key? Anarch Key? How does this relate to the OS? Whatever, next question.

What are two methods for writing applications for Mac OS X?

This question confused me and lead to a challenging discussion with the instructor giving the class. I asked him for clarification.

“Are you asking the types of programs used to write apps or the types of apps that are written by these programs?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Which is it? The programs used or the results of the programs?”

“Yes.”

“What? You aren’t answering my question.” My frustration in MP3 format.

The answers ended up being “Carbon” and “Cocoa”, which I did know, but the question was poorly worded. I thought they were looking for Xcode and something else.

I know that 99% of you reading this have absolutely no idea what I am talking about. And that’s my point. The class is designed for total beginners, and total beginners do not need to be asked questions about Carbon and Cocoa application writing. BECAUSE IT DOESN’T MATTER.

I imagine the guy who wrote this test is the type of guy who can build you a computer out of your toaster, but can’t tie his own shoe. The same type of guy who can tell you all about the science of pheromones but has never actually kissed a girl. You know the type.

Also, this is an important message for any idiots who set up computer labs. If you’re going to have a 22″ CRT monitor plugged into the computer, don’t set the resolution for 1024 x 768. Save that shit for your 10″ screens. Oh, I’d also like to thank the same asshat who fucked up the resolution for setting the refresh rate to 60 Hz as well. How did you know that my eyes love the strobe effect of watching the screen refresh itself? Are you trying to give me a seizure?

Finally, Adobe Systems, makers of such infamous titles as Photoshop and Acrobat. I own two legal copies of Photoshop CS3 Extended for Mac. Which is nice, because I can call for tech support, right? You’d think so, but…no.

I was having problems with Photoshop remembering my settings and installing updates. I tried the usual (restart, reinstall, etc.) but to no avail. So I called Adobe for help.

“I can’t get Version Cue to update correctly and Photoshop won’t remember my workspace settings.”

“Huh. Well, no one uses Version Cue anyway”

“Then why do I need it installed to Save my files?”

“Well, yea, there is that.”

“Yes, I would like the ability to save my files.”

“Huh.”

Idiot. What’s the point of actually buying a legal copy if you can’t get help? It’s not as if you get support for downloaded versions from Bit Torrent. Gee, thanks Adobe.

And while we’re on the topic of buying Adobe software legally, why does their shit have to cost so damn much money? Perhaps it’s because there’s no longer any competition.

This package would set you back $1800 if you weren’t a student. Still, it’s $600. Do you know how many nuggets I could buy at Wendy’s for that? I could buy every chicken on the farm. It’s nice that students get 2/3 off the commercial price, but $600 is still outrageous.

/end rant.

Afishionados,

School starts, at long last, the first week in September. And Uncle Sam is paying for quite a bit of it. I’ve gotten a part time job, just for spending money, gas, books, whatever, and I really fucking hate it. The people at this place are one or all of the following:

• 1. Asshole
• 2. Retarded
• 3. Worthless
• 4. Incompetent

Seriously. It’s definitely NOT a job where we’re saving lives, but the way the whole staff acts you’d think so. I’ve only been working here a short time, but I came so close to just walking out today. And I’m sure that there are natives in the Congo who get paid more than me, too.

Honestly, at what point do you cut your losses and just move on? I’m supposed to work at 8 AM tomorrow, but I can’t guarantee that I will make it. And even if I DO, I definitely can’t promise that I won’t just disappear while on a break and never come back.