Alien Striptease

my milkshake brings all the birds to the yard

Wed, 30 Aug 2006 18:48:59 GMT

So I'm supposed to be writing in this thing more often. Problem is, my life's boring. So here's a post all about. . . my baby!

Now, I know there are many of you out there going, "WTF? I didn't know she was a mom!" and several more of you going, "I know for a fact she's not a mom, unless she's been hiding the baby in her attic." Well calm down, my baby isn't human, and the one that was died of attic poisoning and bats eating it years ago.

I have a bird! A rather obnoxious, attention-whoring, talkative one. His name is Scarlet, and he's a Scarlet, Ring-necked Lory. I say this because he looks both like a Scarlet Lory, and a Ring-Necked Lory. I don't know which he is. . . . but it hardly matters. Lories cross-breed all the time.

I got him last year, as a Christmas present in my mother's attempt to maintain my self-respect after my boyfriend dumped me like a used condom. Thankfully, it did the trick. I wasn't in a good place, and though I might seem like a bitter, angry, spiteful woman, I'm a bitter, angry, spiteful woman who's had animals her whole life. It was killing me to be away from my dogs, birds, and summer barn jobs for so many years. Scarlet brought that little extra something back to my life.

Scarlet is going on nine years old, he couldn't be healthier, and he's just about the friendliest bird I've ever encountered. He lacks discipline. . . I've been studying up on it and consulting with bird breeders and trainers for a few months now to get him educated on a few things, but all-in-all, he's a sweetheart who just wants attention ALL THE TIME. That's the 'lacking discipline' part. He talks all day, asks to come out and tempts you by kissing you. . . and once he's out of his cage, he doesn't want to go back in. But he's gotten better at that. . . he's slowly but surely learning the 'step up', 'step down' commands, and he's all but stopped eating my earrings. It probably helped that I got less dangly earrings. . . .

It's just wonderful to come home, walk into my room, and literally KNOW someone is going to be waiting there to say 'Hi' (hello sometimes. . . but he prefers 'hi', it's easier to say). So this particular post is devoted to Scarlet. . . who's chattering at me right now to come out.

Thank you, baby.

- Rukis

ah, cheesecake. . . .

Sun, 27 Aug 2006 03:07:11 GMT

Oh man oh man. . . I'm so poor, it's worth laughing at myself over. Rent due, about $15,000 worth of tuition fees, and I still owe one of my roommates three months of utilities fees. It's hilarious.

I am in so much trouble.

But all's happy, right? It's all gonna work out. Yeah. . . .

Update is coming tommorrow, being that I just got back from a 'family vacation', and I'm still too busy kissing Rochester soil and loving the shit out of my crappy apartment to care about much else. Ye gods, do I love living six hours away from every blood relative.

ok, fess up. . . .

Thu, 17 Aug 2006 18:23:57 GMT

This is a classic case of Whodonit?

Who on *earth* upgraded me to a paid account? I've since ruled out the possibility I did it while drunk or very, very tired, after looking at my paid history. I didn't think anyone cared enough about my ramblings, which are few and far between, to bless me with such a gift.

Of course, this now means I have to use this thing more than once a month. I'll feel horrible if I don't. I'm trying to mess with the settings, now, but it's confusing as HELL. . . . Anyone out there with a paid account who can give some pointers on what to tweak and where? I'd love to have my own mood theme. . . I'm guessing you make transparent gifs for that. . . if someone could tell me, like, the size and shit. . . .

Help.

Oh, and the hand LIVES! I have the uber-healing body of death. . . my friends have recently joked I could give Wolverine a run for his money. Well. . . we've all got to have *something*, I guess. . . .

- Rukis

(two characters in a DBZ game,while having sex. . . .)
"Did you feel that?!"
". . . .uh. . . I should hope so. . . ."
"I can feel the power. . . someone's coming. . . ."
*sigh*

ow

Mon, 14 Aug 2006 18:48:28 GMT

This will be cross-posted at Tourniquet soon-

There will be a delay in the update this week, as my right hand is currently not functioning. That's what I get for putting it through a window, I guess. . . .

Hopefully, there won't be any permanent, lasting damage. . .it's mostly just gashed up. But typing is a bit difficult, so adieu for now.

I'm ba-aack. . . .

Wed, 26 Jul 2006 19:54:54 GMT

Well, I'm well aware these last few months have made me few friends. After all, I'm certainly not the most personable person there is. . . about the only thing I offer most of the people who read this is my comic. Which hasn't been updating for almost three months now. If you even occasionally stop by the site any more, you would have found out why.

But enough of that. You don't care. . . what you want to know is. . . when the hell is Tourniquet updating again. . . right?

The answer is: tonight. Because three of my readers saw fit to call in a few commissions, and the freelance agency I now use did the rest. I am officially reeling in more money as a freelance artist than I could at my full-time job. By a lot. I quit as of yesterday. I've never been happier. And though the majority of my confidence comes from the contract I have with Tattoo Apparel, and their new reaper line (more about that on my site) the majority of the thanks goes out to the three readers out there who offered me work, and the others who offered me encouragement. I really had to know there were a few of my readers out there who were willing to support a free comic, and not just spam me hate mail, before I was going to quit my job in order to continue updating it.

I think I speak for all free webcomic writers and artists when I make the following statement:

It's free. You have a right to bitch, moan and yell all you want. . . but that's not going to encourage us to update any time sooner. If someone were to walk up to you on the street and hand you a free sandwich, would you complain they didn't get there soon enough?

For all of you who were patient, I honestly and truly apologize. If you're reading this now, I'm glad you stuck it out so long. I was working upwards of 45 hours a week, and though I occasionally had days off, and free time at nights, the last thing I wanted to do was work MORE. Thank you for your patience.

The wait is over now. Look for an update tonight.

- Rukis

many good things

Wed, 10 May 2006 16:04:30 GMT

Updated the comic. Oh. . . and for anyone I haven't assaulted yet. . . .

I PASSED MY SENIOR THESIS REVIEW!

Yes, I'm THAT happy about it. It means most of my worries for this school year are over. And what's more, they mentioned that my two-quarter project, the one that consumed my life for the first two semesters, was, in their words, 'impressive'. And it helped my chances on getting passed.

*squees from explosive happiness and falls over dead*

Couldn't have gone better. I've been having real issues with this whole college thing recently, and this just sent my courage through the roof. I finally feel like I'm accomplishing something here. Mind you, it's still not something that will help me in my lack of career ahead (schooling can't cover for a lack of raw talent) but it's enough to make me feel better about being here, which is enough.

And I'm keeping my end of the bargain to my mom. . . keeping my average at a good, solid 3.5. Considering how much help she gave me getting all my loans to go here, it's the least I can do for her.

Speaking of which, I might be seeing the motherly unit this upcoming weekend, if I'm not working. It'll be so nice. I have to get her something for mother's day. She's a short, athletic pure-blooded Italian woman who likes death metal, oldschool rock, teaching elementary school students, and her children. Any ideas? I could use some help.

fun times. . . .

Tue, 02 May 2006 13:20:20 GMT

So, I've got less than a week until I propose my senior thesis. Why am I so sure of failure?

Oh, and my Fundamentals of C & I is, in addition to being a dumbshit, a nasty sonofabitch. I'll be lucky to B this course, which is ridiculous. I know how to work a damn computer, thankuverymuch. He'll take any opportunity available to deduct points from everything I do. Motherfucker needs a truck to the head.

I want out of college. . . I've been doing this for four years. I'm done. Really. I don't give a shit that this is supposed to be the treasured time of my young life. I'm fairly certain I'm not going to look back on my useless, shitass Liberal Arts courses in ten years and go, "Oh, if only I was there now. . . ." No. I want to start my real life. I should be graduating this year, but thanks to RIT's policy on accepting transfer students, (namely, "yeah, we know you have enough credits to graduate, but we're going to squeeze you for that extra year so you spit out forty grand") I'm not. I don't want to lose my friends, or my awesome house, but I am dooooone with this college bullshit.

Rowr. My stomach hurts. And I wish my goddamn professor would shut up about rods and cones. Or at the very least, take the rod out of his ass.

Zaralious

Thu, 27 Apr 2006 04:47:00 GMT

Announcement and warning to all:

The character 'Zaralious' from the Thorium Brotherhood server on WoW is a MOTHERFUCKING COCKSUCKER. I don't really know why I'm bothering with this. . . the little shit is probably ten years old. . . but he annoyed me enough that I needed to warn the world.

Don't group with this guy. Don't talk with this guy. Don't expect decency equivalent to a human being from him.

If I could report someone for being a dick, I would. I might even try. I doubt the GM's count 'being an asshole' as a legitimate complaint, but it's worth a shot.

And this, ladies and gentleman, is the dark side of MMO's. Immature little bastards ruining the otherwise good time had by all. I'm still so pissed. . . .

well, everyone else was doing it. . . .

Tue, 25 Apr 2006 03:04:01 GMT

So. . . Tora-Con. Everyone else's done a con review, so I thought I should. Fair warning, though. . . there's a bit of gloating towards the end of this. It only concerns one individual, and anyone who knows me even remotely well knows who.

The Con was awesome. I honestly didn't think I'd have as much fun as I did, being that I've been so worried about it since I agreed to go. But the staff was very kind, incredibly helpful and giving, and though there was an abundance of fanboy and fangirling amongst the congoers themselves, the people were a lot of fun. What's more, I made enough to pay my rent this month. . . which was the worry of the day. And I met a few really awesome artists, all of which I need to keep in contact with. . . .

I'm so bad at e-mailing, contacting and generally. . . talking to people. At all. But I think it's time I crawled out of my corner. Hearing how friendly the other webcomic artists were with the online community was like shock treatment to me. I'm resolved to be afraid of being social no longer. Or at the very least, I'm going to try.

So, I hung out with TONS of folks I haven't seen in awhile, including the Cazenovia Anime Club, Visual Rebellion, The Crack Crew cosplay folks, Rym's crew, Yuko and Brian, even scattered members of the e-board, when they weren't too busy. The panel was fun. . . I was told I had the most 'unique and interesting commentary', and despite being the low man on the comic totem pole once again, I didn't feel quite as meek as I did last year. I got a couple really awesome commissions I'm looking forward to finishing, my table was a neverending party of button-making and doodling, and our 'Poser Mobile' cosplay skit won best skit. . . which lead to quite possibly the most rewarding part of the whole day.

Seeing the look on my ex's face when I walked out of the event he got booted off the staff of, holding the prize in my pocket.

Call me shallow, but there's something to be said for returning a brutal, malicious lie with a big shit-eating grin, and a sense of accomplishment a nobel prize wouldn't match. I win.

And that's the end of my gloating. For good this time, I think. . . . Yes.

Much thanks to the e-board for inviting me. I had a fantastic time. I don't think any of you read this journal. . . but thank you, anyway. And thank you to all who stopped by my table just to chat, or say hi. Good times were had by all. Oh yeah. . . and one more thing. . . .

POSER MOBILE IN THE HIZ-OUSE, YO!

So, my game rocks. . . oh, and also. . .Toracon

Sun, 26 Mar 2006 04:05:06 GMT

Oh, I updated. Yays.

And in other news, the RPG I run, Half-Dragon, is the shit. It's been going for over two years now, and I'm loving the development. We've had nothing but good sessions recently.

Oh, and my bird is a crap machine. Oh my god. . . bird poo, everywhere. Yeah.

Also, I was asked some time ago if I'd reconsider attending Toracon. I am.

The asshole who *caused* me to blacklist this particular con has apparently had a rather hellish couple of months, recently. Homelessness, lack of friends. . . oh. . . the works. Karma's been slapping him around like a dirty whore. I feel somewhat avenged. My life, in comparison, is absolutely awesome right now. . . probably the best it's ever been. It might be time to let go of the anger, and realize I've won.

So, I'm e-mailing the staff now, for an art table. It might be too late. It doesn't really matter. I'll let you all know if I end up going.

hides in shame

Sun, 12 Mar 2006 23:04:45 GMT

I UPDATED!

*goes back to hide*

HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mon, 27 Feb 2006 03:00:34 GMT

LIVE IN FEAR MORTALS, FOR I HAVE RETURNED!

I'm DONE. DONE with the project of death. Completely and utterly dried up, crazy fucked-up tired and have lost my entire concept of time, but I'm DONE. Never mind the fact that I don't know what day it is, still can't properly type straight for the animation-induced agony in my hands. . . nothin' matters, because the semester is over, and I'm done.

. . . okay, I have three papers due. But still.

DONE.

I have to catch up on. . . no joke. . . about a week of sleep. Heh heh. Yeah. You think I'm kidding. No. Much sleep to catch up on. Two final papers and one novel to finish for creative writing.

And the comicking shall commence.

announcement for Tourniquet readers. . . .

Mon, 13 Feb 2006 20:18:10 GMT

Okay, so I'm officially announcing my return date to the world of comicking. I'm sorry that I had to leave at all, but my college projects occasionally have to take precedence.

In two weeks, it won't matter if I'm done with this project or not. . . it's still due. And I think I'll be just fine, but the next two weeks are going to be just a tad busy. I'm sure you've all gotten used to the idea of me being missing for awhile. . . but it ends in two weeks. Of that you can be certain.

I'm very sorry the comic had to disappear for two or so months like this. . . but life intervenes sometimes. I've tried to hold onto an updating schedule throughout large projects before, and if often ends fruitlessly. This time, it was impossible.

Wish me luck.

A few things. . . .

Fri, 20 Jan 2006 18:40:40 GMT

First off:

The West Jersey Animal Shelter is closing at the end of this month. The Pennsauken, NJ shelter had it's license revoked due to unkept and dangerous conditions for the animals. There are currently 31 dogs and 5 cats on the premises that are in desperate need of adoption. If these animals are not adopted by the end of the month, they will be euthanized.

The West Jersey Animal Shelter is open for adoptions Monday through Friday from 11 a.m. until 4 p.m. and from 11 a.m. until 5 p.m. on Saturdays and Sundays. Phone (856) 486-2180.

I DONT CARE WHERE YOU LIVE WE ALL GOT FRIENDS ON OUR LISTS FROM ALL OVER THE USA PLEASE PLEASE REPOST EVERY REPOST COULD SAVE A ANIMALS LIFE IN NEED

Even if you can't adopt an animal, please repost this.. Eventually it will reach someone you can.. Even if only one pet is adopted, that's still a big difference for that animal's life.

And secondly, for all of you more interested in comic news, I'm working at it. Bad weeks. Bad weeks still to come. Oh god oh god. . . screenings in five. Film one week behind on schedule. Need to start coloring. Guh.

But you will get some stuff this weekend. Me swears it. With my broken and bustin' heart. . . you shall have comic.

- Rukis

"You know what the chain of command is? It's the chain I come an' beat you wit' until you understand who's in ruttin' command."

- Jayne ("Firefly")

this is for all the lovers. . . .

Sat, 17 Dec 2005 05:43:00 GMT

Love is like a bird.
When you least expect it. . . it shits in your face.
Swears it loves you.
Tells you you're safe.
Tells you to trust it. . . just trust it, it says.
Gets bored with you.
Invents five different stories as to why it needs to leave you.
Swears it feels horrible about it.
Really. . . awful.
Aww.

Shoot yourselves in the spleens, kneecaps and guts, you sons of bitches and tell me THEN that you know how we feel. Tell me THEN that you're in as much pain as we are. Tell me THEN that you understand. I'll wait a few minutes until you've choked on your innards, vomited up blood, bile and your own semen all at once. I'll wait until you're doubled over on the ground, knowing you're going to die because no one is calling an ambulance for you.

Then I'll agree with you. You'll know how it feels. . . then.

Oh, and make sure you do all of this right before the fucking holidays. Because your sense of timing has always been a keen one.

mrr. . . .

Wed, 14 Dec 2005 07:04:22 GMT

Just an entry to let all know I finally updated. Sorry for the delay. Hasn't been a kind couple of days.

I yet breathe thanks only to the graces of my two wonderful roommates, who pulled me out of quite the vegetative coma through food and a good few hugs to bury myself in. Thank them profusely, otherwise you wouldn't have seen hide nor hair of me for quite some time.

Image spam, yay!

Sat, 10 Dec 2005 23:10:22 GMT

Nifty image! And guess what, everyone? No naughty bits!

Yay!

Stykk is mah boy. . . .

WARNING

Mon, 07 Nov 2005 23:06:57 GMT

This is a disclaimer for this livejournal. . . .

This is the personal livejournal of a depraved, naughty-bits-obsessed, far-too-horny comic artist. What does that mean for you? It means that posts in this journal will include, and not be limited to. . . .

- Illustrative nudity of all shapes and sizes
- Profanity out the wazoo
- Links to smutty fiction, none of which will contain warnings of said explicit smuttiness
- PENISES! (because for some reason, people seem to exclude male genitalia from the term NUDITY. . . . For as we all know, men do not have penises. Only fuzzy blocks that vaguely resemble a penis-like shape.)
- Rants against major corporations that utterly and completely reflect the opinions of the author
- Rants against individuals that. . . you get the idea
- Llamas having their way with frat boys. Why? Because it's my goldang journal. I can post anything I want. And I want to post about Llamas having their way with frat boys.

I will not remotely link things on this journal because. . . .

A.) That's stupid, it's my journal,
B.) I don't know how to do it, nor do I wish to. I have no urge to understand the greater workings of livejournal.
C.)The NAME of this livejournal is ALIEN STRIPTEASE. If you are looking at it at work, or any place in which someone might lean over your shoulder and assume you're a perv. . . it's not my fault that you got caught. Be more careful. I managed to read explicit fanfiction and view explicit yaoi artwork from a school computer for my junior and senior years of highschool. . . without ever getting caught by a teacher. I believe in you. You can do the same.

This in response to the painful experience of seeing two of my readers debate the morality of livejournal posting. . . on *my* livejournal. I'm sorry to have caused any harm, I love you guys and don't wanna see you fight on behalf of something as unimportant to my comic as MORALS. Tourniquet, and this webcomic, are empty of anything even remotely wholesome. Don't look for something that's not there. My artwork, story, website and subsequently my livejournal are unholy ground. Walk freely in sin and don't tread here if you think it might get you in trouble.

Good night, all!

- Rukis

"Ok, guys. . . if this guy's blue balls drop, I wanna roll for 'em. . . ." *pause* ". . .wait, wait, that came out wrong. . . what I meant to say was. . . well. . . he has rare cannonballs. . . they're blue. . . blue items! He drops them most of the time, I. . . damn. . . this just doesn't sound right no matter how I put it. Just, if anyone loots the balls, I want'em for my gun. . . you can roll for them, too, if you really need them. . . . Crap. I'm never going to hear the end of this, am I?"

- Me, talking about the Cannonmaster in Stratholm Live (World of Warcraft) and his rare blue cannonball ammo

okay. . . .

Mon, 07 Nov 2005 18:25:35 GMT

All right, Angelfire was only crashed for most of last night and early this morning. Things have righted themselves. And I know for a fact it was Angelfire, not a problem on my end, because I checked multiple ways, and the angelfire site was DOWN.

This is all just a sign. . . I need to change providers. I've been saying it for two years now. . . .

*sigh*

Anyway, all is well for the moment. If Tourniquet switches hosts some time in the near future, you now know why. I'm getting tired of this. . . this isn't the first time it's happened.

BULLSHIT I SAY!

Mon, 07 Nov 2005 16:30:13 GMT

I swear, the fucking world is out to get me!

I UPDATED LAST NIGHT! And now fucking Angelfire has been crashed for the past umpteen hours. MOTHERFUCKINGCOCKSLAPPINGDIRTYPIGFUCKINGWHORES!

Hate. . . life. . . .

Not even the images I linked on my post are showing, because they're fucking LINKED THROUGH ANGELFIRE!

squee

Mon, 07 Nov 2005 06:33:20 GMT

So, just felt I'd do an image spam, because for once, I am extremely happy with two piccies I made. If you read my comic, you've already seen these. . . .

"Please move along, Ma'am. . . you're making my willy hurt. . . ."
- Victoria's Secret Security Guard (Foamy)

I want my life back

Wed, 12 Oct 2005 06:35:50 GMT

It's a very odd thing when you can't sleep at night because you're overwhelmed with the need to have your memory wiped.

Ever since this past summer, and the incident involving my ex, I've realized just how it is people are able to say 'I want that part of my life back'. More than that. . . I want that part of my life gone. Forever. I thought by now I would stop hating it, stop harping on it, stop remembering every bloody little detail, and wondering how I could have been so stupid. The more and more time passes, the more I feel like a whore who gave away what should have been saved for someone more deserving. I feel, for the first time in my life, like I've honestly been preyed upon, and used. And I'm not the sort of person who lets themselves get messed up like this, which is why it's killing me.

The worst part is, it's looking like I'm never going to be free of all this shit. Dom went entirely unpunished. . . he may have lost the majority of his friends, but the ones that remain (however few that is) who are loyal to him are being lied to. And I have testimony of that fact. . . .

What's more, I feel like it's not over. I know for a fact that my ex is a sick, perverse little man who gets his rocks off by dishing out his form of 'justice' for all the wrong he thinks the world's committed against him. If he wasn't, he never would have stooped to such depths as taking from me a piece of clothing my MOTHER and I worked on for almost two months. Because he felt I wasn't affectionate enough with him, he attempted to ruin a presentation we'd worked on for eight months, that my mother and brother had driven seven hours to see. In the end, he got away with it. . . he took the costume we'd made, by lying to me and claiming he needed it for 'practice', and we performed the skit without him, *or* the jacket. My mother was upset. I was upset. Dom was enjoying his last day at the convention, with a costume he had no need for, laughing at us for trusting him.

Someone with that little regard for basic human dignity is *still* living a carefree life, his very presence scaring me away from anime club, and any functions my school holds that I think he might attend. He spent half the summer threatening me by AIM, telling me that 'holding something over my head'. . . that 'something', I later discovered, being the costume he intended to steal. . . was legal. That I couldn't do a thing about it. That he could continue using 'scare tactics' to keep me in line for as long as he wanted to. His words, not mine.

And the worst part is, he's right. The justice system seems to protect those who best know how to manipulate it. Because my ex never *hurt* me physically, and because I have virtually no documented proof besides dozens of friends' testimonies, that he was verbally abusive and threatening, I have nothing. They're about to have a hearing for him at RIT, not because I asked them to, but because my MOTHER stormed into the Campus Security office and demanded to have him kicked out of school. . . and he's going to get away scott free. I can bring in my testimony, as well as that of the seven or eight other people who saw how he abused me, and tell them that he preyed off my anxiety disorder by threatening me for two months. . . but they won't care.

So here's what it boils down to. You can frighten, and threaten, and do everything in your power to make someone's life a living hell. . . and you are innocent as a newborn babe. Lay a hand on them, and you're looking at prison time.

I want that part of my life back. Or at the very least, I want it gone. Erased from my memory. Dealt with, somehow. My voice isn't getting heard in this, because bottom line. . . Dom is louder and more vicious than me. And just like he used me, he's preying on the trust of all those around him now.

If anyone knows any way at all to forget a particularly nasty part of one's life, I'm open to suggestions. Last year, after my father attempted to steal money from my college fund, I had to abandon him. That was fucking rough enough. Now this. When does life start picking up?

So. . .this is, what? Move #549,879?

Tue, 06 Sep 2005 16:12:51 GMT

I've decided two things, over these past few days back here at RIT. One. . . the apartment/house I'm now sharing with my three closest friends up here is the shit. . .I couldn't possibly be happier in any other living arrangement, (and yes, for all those confused, in my world, 'the shit'=teh awesome). I'm living in a HOUSE again, with all the amenities of. Like a back and front yard, a full bathroom, a full kitchen, a living room and dining room, even a basement and attic in which to store all of our stuff. The place is clean, and in great shape. It's an older house, so all the doors and cabinets are solid, dark wood. It's gorgeous. I couldn't be any more pleased.

Number two. . . I hate moving. Maybe it's just because I've had to *do* it eight times just this year, but. . . ohmyfuckinggod. . .I hate moving my stuff, especially now that I've actually got FURNITURE of my own, I hate setting up a new room differently every time (I'm the sort of person who likes to dig myself a niche in my living space and get comfy with it) and more than anything, I hate going without internet for hours, days, and in this case, upwards of a week, every time I have to reestablish myself. It sucks for my comic readers, it sucks for trying to keep in contact with friends, and it sucks, in general, for having stuff to DO. I feel like my computer is half the machine it should be.

*sigh* So here I am, in a school lab again, using a fucking mac computer that would as soon eat my face a follow my commands. The keyboard sucks. . .the operating system sucks. . .the fact that I'm in a SCHOOL LAB and not in my own comfy chair at home sucks. Guh.

In other news, I'm learning how to cook. That's right, world. . . live in fear. They let me use a stove. And a lot of large knives. Even a *gasp* blender. I shall reek havoc with my new skillz, yo. Thusfar, the 'havoc' consists of several experimental smoothies, all of which went well, a lot of italian salads,(thank you mom) and a beef stew and rice casserole which were both mostly made by alex. Oh, and spaghetti. Also made mostly by Alex. But I helped. And I'm learning.

I'm still damn good at making sandwiches.

In short, I certainly won't starve. And we're attempting to get a bunny. So very soon, I may be alleviated of my deprivation of fluffy things, as well. Life is good.

That's all for this update.

- Rukis

"If you suck on it enough, it curls."
- Todd
(commenting on a Jolly Rancher. . . at least we think so)

Ah. . . college

Fri, 02 Sep 2005 17:33:30 GMT

Ok, so I've moved. . . yet again. And here cometh the bad news.

Again. . . I am without internet for a week. I can come to the school lab and check my e-mail and such, but that's about it. Which means no comic updates 'til I get this all settled up, and my mother mails me my scanner. I hope you'll all forgive me. . . .

On the plus side, my new apartment ROCKS HARDCORE. It's, like, a whole house. And I'm sharing it with four of my best friends here at RIT. Life promises to be good. And until the cable guy comes next week, the only down side will be dealing with the internet withdrawl shakes I get whenever my compie is offline.

See you all again then.

- Rukis

Dom Haters Not So Anonymous

Mon, 22 Aug 2005 14:32:30 GMT

Let's start at the beginning, shall I? Because several of you will most likely want to know why it is I left my table early this year at Otakon, and didn't set up the table at all on sunday. It has a little something to do with six months' work being intentionally sabotaged and *almost* ruined by a boy. . . I dare not say man. . .with a vendetta against me for breaking him off. Here's the story. . . .

First off, I have bad taste in men. I share the bloodline of my mother, which probably explains it. And I was unfortunate enough to not only choose *wrong*, on this occasion. . . but to choose a bleeding psychopath with a lust for being hypocritical, intentionally cruel, and sexually impotent. I will now touch on *all* of those points.

My friends and I have been working on a performance for Otakon's masquerade for, eh. . . nigh on a year now. More like eight months, really. Dominic, the aforementioned ex, expressed an interest in *leading* this little skit. And we all decided that would be cool. Because generally, *I* lead all of our skits, and I've gotten tired of the responsibility. For once, I wanted to focus on costumes, and leave the paperwork and information gathering to someone else. We all trusted him to do his job.

Therein lay the mistake.

Six months after the skit had been in the planning stages, I had managed to gather four people whom I could supply with costumes, or who already had costumes. We had begun practicing the choreographed dance. My friend Rose had gathered up professional stage makeup for all of us, and had learned the entirety of the dance, beginning to end, perfectly. She was to be our choreographer. I had started the costuming. Everything was going well.

Except that our skit LEADER had not done a damn thing in six months. He had not bothered to gather the information (phone numbers, AIM names, ACTUAL names) of the people who'd so graciously offered to be in his skit. In six months time, he had not finished mixing the music for the skit. In fact, he hadn't even started. And we sort of *needed* it to practice.

During our first rehearsal, we had to practice without music. And we couldn't seem to coax him away from his couch and his videogames long enough to get HIM to practice WITH us. During our second rehearsal, he 'finished' the music on the day we all had to leave. And by finished I mean. . . left it in .wav format so that I had to go to the editing lab and export it on my own to mass produce cds for everyone. Again. . . he refused to practice with us.

During the final rehearsal, of which his friend from afar, a girl none of us knew who was SUPPOSED to be in the skit, was absent for, as well. . . we all got angry. We finally yelled at him to get his goddamn act together. And he took it as a personal offense. I went home, at that point. . . we all continued to practice on our own. The skit was coming up in less than a month. . . and he didn't even know the dance. We continued to badger him over AIM to get his ass in gear. He ignored and threatened us to leave him alone, saying speficially to ME that if we didn't trust him to practice on his own (because, you know. . . he'd gotten SO much progress done BEFORE this point) that he was going to do something. And that we would be sorry.

I'm far too trusting of people. I had no clue of what he intended. . . I decided it was a hollow threat.

At the convention, Dominic preyed off of our trust, and my own belief that he was still, despite his lunacy, a good person. He stalked myself and my friend to our hotel room, and said he wouldn't leave us alone until we gave up the costume I had made for him. I didn't want to give it to him, because I had an idea he was planning something. But he insisted he needed it to practice the dance in. So I did the worst thing I could have. . . I gave it up.

Apparently, as we found out from his very own friends later on. . . he had been planning to sabotage our skit from SOME time ago. The 'friend' he had who was supposed to be in the skit had no clue she was even involved. He did not intend to perform with us. Instead, he took the main costume we NEEDED to perform the skit, stashed it in his room, and disappeared, with the intention of destroying the countless hours and months of work we'd put into this performance. After all. . . so far as he knew, we couldn't perform without him or the costume.

I had a rather rough hour upon finding this out. Even after we tracked him down at the convention, my brother and half my friends roughed him up a bit, and I had the pleasure of seeing him shivering and scared, surrounded by a dozen people who wanted to rip his throat out. He's a real brave one, too, y'know. I've never seen a twenty year old man scream for Security because his ex's MOTHER is successfully scaring the shit out of him. Yes, Dom. . .scream for help. That fifty one year old, five foot one WOMAN is gonna rough you up real good. Fuckin' pussy.

Here's the bad news. He wouldn't give up the costume. And he had the satisfaction of believing, for a second or so, that he'd gotten the best of me.

The good news? You're gonna love this one, Dom. We'd been training a replacement for you since June. She even had a costume, and knew the dance. What's more, we substituted a white glove for the jacket you stole, and the skit went over without a fuckin' HITCH. The crowd loved us, the other masquerade contestants loved us, and I had the best performance experience of my life. And the best part was. . . you weren't there. Because they took your damn convention badge away for what you did to us. Isn't that nice?

Dancing in my seat,
Your Ex

Hugs and kisses. Die miserable and alone, and remember once in awhile who has more friends than you before you fuck with them.