"Fade Away"

Chapter Seven

"Stop Here"

More playing with the color, this time to mess with the overall concept of the piece.

Chapter Six.

"Close"

Chapter Five is done.

Bah.

"Green"

Long-exposure of the camera being twirled on my tree swing. Based on this whole post on Ali's blog.

I also am trying to revitalize The Guest Blog, so this week you should all make a script for a radio commercial that advertises the guest blog. The best one gets a prize.

Also I'm done with Chapter Four. I don't really like it, but it's really the best I could do. I wanted to get it out quick, as I haven't posted a new installment in a while.

And here's an awesome site for stories. Go to "Free Stories", and I reccomend "Bad Traffic" and "Wile". Both are a little depressing, but very cool.

"Drain Stop"

"Ma'am, I'm not sure which oceans you're talking about. Could you be more Pacific?"

"Odd One Out"

This is my 251st post, people.

The reason the picture is called "odd one out" is because it looks like that last one is lonely to me.

I would've announced it at 250, but I forgot.

As a quick contest, you can email me your favorite post title and/or the one you think best represents my personality as well as the blog. I would much rather appreciate an email or google talk, because I wish the voting to remain secret. Any entry I get multiple times or one that I think is particularly good will be put up later for final voting. The rest is a suprise.

And "Chapter Three" is done. I'm terrible at writing romance, which is why I would like to thank Angie for helping me, as well as the song "Such Great Heights" by Iron and Wine, which helped me because it's a bit sentimental.

The principal joke is based mostly on the "smoking a guitar" statement, as well as our middle school principle pronouncing "viola" wrong.

"Merge"

Chapter Two is out on "Anonymous".

If you have problems with the links, keep refreshing the page. It should work.

"Perfection"

Is an apple still an apple if it isn't red?

And I'm finished the introduction and chapter one of "Anonymous", the unauthorized biography of the Vanquisher of Anonymous-ness.

"Illuminate"

"On/Off"

I've also done an introduction to the Vanquisher's Biography. I'm doing it similar to Tim's "The Adventures of Jack Sinclair", where I'm making an entire blog devoted to this and only this.

I'll post it when I finish chapter one. Then I'll update you when I add chapters.

"Edit"

This is a shot of ripply water, edited a bunch (cropped, increased shadows, lighting, etc.)

I'm working on an unauthorized biography of the Vanquisher. It'll be out soon.

"Art Form"

**NOTE: There is some swearing. You've been warned!**

There really an art to it.

One there, two over there, and three more coming in.

An artist uses a paintbrush to draw on his canvas. But he plans it out first.

A lot of my job is planning.

Another bang. This table isn't gonna last.

Shit. Time for moving.

I rolled and aimed again, taking down the two next to the washing machine. The other was blasting randomly, but he was just trying to add to the chaos. He was behind a sofa, and was too cowardly to actually look out to fire.

I dived behind the dining room table in time to hear the thumps from the three others upstairs. I pulled out one of my homemade grenades and tossed it behind the couch. The guy squealed.

For like two seconds.

The three others tumbled down the stairs and I got two of them before the third dived behind the sofa.

What is it with these people and their fucking sofa?

I didn't want to waste another grenade, so I just sprinted past the sofa and blew him to pieces from behind the coffee table.

I put a new clip in my glock and then stuck it in the holster. I took out the 12 guage. This next room was going to be messy.

Sometimes I liked to give advice to the people I was killing.

Run, you idiot!

No, not over there! I can kill you over th-

See? Now you're dead. Nice going.

How 'bout you? Are you any better. Ooh, a molotov cocktail. That's creative. Only it slipped out of your hand. And hit the ceiling. And you killed yourself. Pity.

I stepped out from the doorway and took down a couple of ill-equipped stragglers. One tried to throw a knife and the other actually tried to tackle me. What is this, a football game? Moron.

I finally found the briefcase behind the refridgerator. I also helped myself to a jar of pickles.

I slipped out the window and crawled down the fire-escape, sliding down the ladder and into the alleyway.

There were two men there, looking at my bloody trench-coat.

I thought "what are you looking at?" might be a little too obvious, but it did the trick. They went back to their cigarettes.

I caught the bus back to my apartment and opened the case.

Everything was in there.

I changed the combination on the case and went to put it behind my bed.

I went out, and crossed the street to the smoky bar I so often found my refuge at, pushing through the grimy door and greeting the bartender.

"And how was your evenin', Mr. Georges?"

"Fine, thank you."

*****

I made these:

"103.2"

The flu, oh the flu.

103.2.

So much virus inside, that my microscope slide, looks like a day at the zoo.

"Standby"

That's a long exposure of the "standby" light on my stereo, when I moved the camera in a twirly shape while taking the shot.

I think my favorite of your comments is this:

"In an Iraki prison, American troops were sodomizing the inmates with lightsticks.

Get some perspective, you ****."
Just a really hilarious comment. And could you guys avoid swearing for no reason? I really don't like the word "dick".

"Blink"